HATTON.

HATTON.John Liphot Hatton, a composer well known in America, not only by his songs and other works, but also by his visits here, was born in Liverpool in 1809. Though his early musical education was very scanty, he soon became known as a composer after his removal to London in 1832, and his works met with a very cordial reception. In 1842 he became conductor at Drury Lane Theatre, and while acting in that capacity brought out one of his operettas, called “The Queen of the Thames.” In 1844 he went to Vienna and produced his opera “Pascal Bruno.” Shortly afterwards he issued several songs under thenom de plumeof “Czapek,” which secured for themselves widespread popularity. In 1848 he came to this country, and some years later made a concert-tour here. Upon his return to England he assumed direction of the music at the Princess’ Theatre, and while engaged there wrote incidental music for “Macbeth,” “Sardanapalus,” “Faust and Marguerite,” “King Henry VIII.,” “Pizarro,” “King Richard II.,” “King Lear,” “The Merchant ofVenice,” and “Much Ado About Nothing.” In 1856 he wrote “Robin Hood,” a cantata; in 1864 the opera “Rose, or Love’s Ransom,” for Covent Garden; and in 1877 “Hezekiah,” a sacred drama, which was performed at the Crystal Palace. He has also written a large number of part songs, which are great favorites with quartet clubs, and nearly two hundred songs which are very popular; among them, “Good-by, Sweetheart, good-by,” which has been a stock piece with concert tenors for years, and which the late Signor Brignoli used to sing with excellent effect. His music is specially characterized by grace and melodiousness. Hatton died in 1886.Robin Hood.The pastoral cantata of “Robin Hood” was written for the Bradford (England) Triennial Festival of 1856, Sims Reeves creating the part of the hero. Its name suggests the well-known story of the greenwood outlaw which has been charmingly versified by George Linley in the libretto. The personages are Maid Marian, Robin Hood, Little John, and “The Bishop.” Maid Marian, it will be remembered, was the mistress who followed Robin into the Sherwood Forest and shared his wild life; and Little John was his stalwart lieutenant, whose name was transposed after he joined the band, thus heightening the incongruity between his name and his great size. The incident contained in Linley’spoem appears to have been suggested by Robin Hood’s penchant for capturing bishops and other ecclesiastics, notwithstanding his religious professions, which were exemplified by the retention of Friar Tuck as chaplain in the bold archer’s household; or it may be based upon the historical story of the expedition which Edward II. and some of his retainers, disguised as monks, made into the forest for the purpose of exterminating the outlaws and thus stopping their slaughter of the royal deer. As the old story goes, they were led into an ambuscade by a forester who had agreed to conduct them to the haunts of Robin, and were captured. When Robin recognized the King in the disguise of the abbot, he craved forgiveness for himself and his band, which was granted upon condition that he should accompany his sovereign to Court and take a place in the royal household. The old collection of ballads, “The Lytell Geste of Robyn Hood,” tells the same story and continues it, relating how after “dwelling in the Kynge’s courte” a year, he tired of it and obtained permission to make a visit to the woods again, but forfeited his word and never returned, dying at last in Kirklees priory, through the treachery of the abbess, and how in his last moments he blew a loud blast on his horn, summoning Little John from the forest, to whom, after he had forced his way into his chamber, the dying Robin said:“Give me my bent bow in my hand,And an arrow I’ll let free,And where that arrow is taken up,There let my grave digged be.”The cantata opens with a chorus of the outlaws, who vigorously assert their independence of tribute, laws, and monarchs, followed by a bombastic bass aria by the Bishop, who threatens them for destroying the King’s deer. His grandiloquence is speedily interrupted by the outlaws, with Robin at their head, who surround him without further ado and make him the butt of their sport. Robin Hood sings a charmingly melodious ballad, “Under the Greenwood Tree,” in which the Bishop is invited to become one of their number and share their sylvan enjoyments. A trio and chorus follow, in the course of which the Bishop parts with his personal possessions in favor of the gentlemen around him in Lincoln green with “bent bows.” A chorus (“Strike the Harp”) also informs us that the ecclesiastic is forced to dance for the genial band much against his will as well as his dignity. Robin’s sentimentalizing about the pleasures under the greenwood tree is still further emphasized by a madrigal for female voices, supposed to be sung by the forest maidens, though their identity is not very clear, as Marian was the only maid that accompanied the band. After the plundering scene, the cantata grows more passionate in character, describing a pretty and tender love-scene between Robin and Marian, which is somewhat incongruous, whether Marian be considered as the outlaw’s mistress, or, as some of the old chroniclers have it, his wife Matilda, who changed her name when she followed him into the forest. From the musical standpoint,however, it affords an opportunity for another graceful ballad of sentiment, in which Marian describes her heart as “a frail bark upon the waters of love;” a duet in which the lovers passionately declare their love for each other as well as their delight with the forest; and a final chorus of the band, jubilantly proclaiming their hatred of kings and courtiers, and their loyalty to Robin Hood and Maid Marian. It may be worthy of note in this connection that Bishop, the English composer, wrote a legendary opera called “Maid Marian, or the Huntress of Arlingford,” in which the heroine is Matilda.HAYDN.Joseph Haydn, the creator of the symphony and the string quartet, was born at Rohrau, a little Austrian village on the river Leitha, March 31, 1732. His father was a wheelwright and his mother a cook, in service with Count Harrach. Both the parents were fond of music, and both sang, the father accompanying himself upon the harp, which he played by ear. The child displayed a voice so beautiful that in his sixth year he was allowed to study music, and was also given a place in the village church-choir. Reutter, the capellmeister of St. Stephen’s, Vienna, having heard him, was so impressed with the beauty of his voice that he offered him a position as chorister. Haydn eagerly accepted it, as it gave him an opportunity for study. While in the service of St. Stephen’s he had lessons on the violin and piano, as well as in composition. When his voice broke, and his singing was of no further value, he was thrown upon the tender mercies of the world. Fortune favored him, however. He obtained a few pupils, and gave himself to composition.He made the acquaintance of Metastasio, Porpora, and Gluck. His trios began to attract attention, and he soon found himself rising into prominence. In 1759, through the influence of a wealthy friend and amateur, he was appointed to the post of musical director and composer in the service of Count Morzin, and about this time wrote his first symphony. When the Count dismissed his band, Prince Paul Anton Esterhazy received him as his second capellmeister, under Werner. When the latter died, in 1766, Haydn took his place as sole director. His patron meanwhile had died, and was succeeded by his son Nicolaus, between whom and Haydn there was the utmost good feeling. Up to this time Haydn had written thirty symphonies, a large number of trios, quartets, and several vocal pieces. His connection with the Prince lasted until 1790, and was only terminated by the latter’s death. During this period of twenty-eight years his musical activity was unceasing; and as he had an orchestra of his own, and his patron was ardently devoted to music, the incentive to composition was never lacking. Anton succeeded Nicolaus, and was generous enough to increase Haydn’s pension; but he dismissed the entire chapel, and the composer took up his abode in Vienna. He was hardly established before he received a flattering proposition from Salomon, the manager, to go to England. He had already had many pressing invitations from others, but could not accept them, owing to his engagement to Esterhazy. Now that he was free, hedecided to make the journey. On New Year’s Day, 1791, he arrived in London. Success greeted him at once. He became universally popular. Musicians and musical societies paid him devoted attention. He gave a series of symphony concerts which aroused the greatest enthusiasm. He was treated with distinguished courtesy by the royal family. Oxford gave him the honorary degree of Doctor of Music. The nobility entertained him sumptuously. After a year of continuous fêtes he returned to Germany, where he remained two years, during a portion of which time Beethoven was his pupil. In 1794 he made his second journey to England, where his former successes were repeated, and fresh honors were showered upon him. In 1804 he was notified by Prince Esterhazy that he was about to reorganize his chapel, and wished him for its conductor again. Haydn accordingly returned to his old position, where he remained during the rest of his life. He was already an old man, but it was during this period that his most remarkable works were produced, among them the Austrian National Hymn (“Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser”), the “Seven Words,” the “Creation,” the “Seasons,” and many of his best trios and quartets. He died May 31, 1809, a few days after the occupation of Vienna by the French, and among the mourners at his funeral were many French officers. Funeral services were held in all the principal European cities. Honored and respected all over Europe, he was most deeply loved by his owncountrymen, who still affectionately speak of him as “Papa” Haydn.The Seven Words.“The Seven Words of Jesus on the Cross,” sometimes called “The Passion,” was written by Haydn in 1785, for the cathedral of Cadiz, upon a commission from the chapter for appropriate music for Good Friday. It was at first composed as an instrumental work, consisting of seven adagio movements, and in this form was produced in London by the composer himself as a “Passione instrumentale.” He afterwards introduced solos and choruses, and divided it into two parts, separating them by a largo movement for wind instruments. It was then given at Eisenstadt in 1797, and four years later was published in the new form, with the following preface by the composer himself:—About fifteen years ago I was applied to by a clergyman in Cadiz, and requested to write instrumental music to the seven words of Jesus on the cross. It was then customary every year, during Lent, to perform an Oratorio in the Cathedral at Cadiz, the effect of which the following arrangements contributed to heighten. The walls, windows, and columns of the church were hung with black cloth, and only one large lamp, hanging in the centre, lighted the solemn and religious gloom. At noon all the doors were closed, and the music began. After a prelude, suited to the occasion, the bishop ascended the pulpit, pronounced one of the seven words, which was succeeded by reflectionsupon it. As soon as these were ended he descended from the pulpit and knelt before the altar. The pause was filled by music. The bishop ascended and descended again a second, a third time, and so on; and each time the orchestra filled up the intervals in the discourse.My composition must be judged on a consideration of these circumstances. The task of writing seven adagios, each of which was to last about ten minutes, to preserve a connection between them, without wearying the hearers, was none of the lightest, and I soon found that I could not confine myself within the limits of the time prescribed.The music was originally without text, and was printed in that form. It was only at a later period that I was induced to add the text. The Oratorio entitled “The Seven Words of our Redeemer on the Cross,” as a complete and, as regards the vocal parts, an entirely new work, was first published by Messrs. Breitkopf and Härtel, of Leipsic. The partiality with which this work has been received by scientific musicians leads me to hope that it will not be without effect on the public at large.Joseph Haydn.Vienna, March 1, 1880.As the various movements are all of the same general tone and character, though varied with all that skill and mastery of instrumental effect for which Haydn was so conspicuous, it is needless to describe each separately. By many of the musicians of his day it was considered one of his most sublime productions; and Bombet declares that Haydn on more than one occasion, when he was asked towhich of his works he gave the preference, replied, “The Seven Words.”It opens with an adagio for full orchestra, of a very sorrowful but impressive character. Then follow each of the Seven Words, given out in simple chorale form, followed by its chorus, namely:—I.PATIENCE.“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”Chorus: “Lamb of God! Surely Thou hast borne our sorrows.”II.THE PENITENT FORGIVEN.“Verily I say unto thee, this day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.”Chorus: “Lord, have mercy on me after Thy great goodness.”III.THE MOURNERS.“Woman, behold thy Son. Son, behold Thy mother.”Chorus: “Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for Me.”IV.DESOLATION.“Eli, Eli, lama sabacthani?”Chorus: “O my God, look upon Me.”V.THE BITTER CUP.“I thirst.”Chorus: “He treadeth the winepress of the fierceness and wrath.”VI.COMPLETE OBEDIENCE.“It is finished.”Chorus: “He came down from Heaven.”VII.THE GREAT OBLATION.“Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.”Chorus: “Into Thy hands, O Lord.”Following immediately after the last number the whole spirit of the music changes with the chorus, “The Veil of the Temple was rent in twain,” a presto movement, sung fortissimo, describing the darkness, the quaking of the earth, the rending of the rocks, the opening of the graves, and the arising of the bodies of the saints who slept, with all that vividness in imitation and sublimity of effect which characterize so many of the composer’s passages in “The Creation” and “The Seasons.” Haydn was by nature a deeply religious man, and that he felt the inspiration of the solemn subject is shown by the manner in which he conceived it, and by the exalted devotion of the music which accompanies thelast words of the Man of Sorrows. The lines which Bombet quotes from Dante in this connection are hardly exaggerated:—“He with such piety his thought reveals,And with such heavenly sweetness clothes each tone,That hell itself the melting influence feels.”Ariadne.The cantata “Ariana a Naxos” was written in 1792, and is for a single voice with orchestra. As an illustration of the original cantata form, it is one of the most striking and perfect. Its story is an episode familiar in mythology. When Minos, King of Crete, had vanquished the Athenians, he imposed upon Ægeus, their king, the severe penalty that seven youths should be annually sent to Crete to be devoured by the Minotaur. In the fourth year the king’s son, Theseus, was among the number. He was more fortunate than his predecessors, for he slew the Minotaur and was rescued from the labyrinth by following the thread of Ariadne, daughter of Minos, who had conceived a violent passion for the handsome warrior, conqueror of Centaurs and Amazons. Upon his return to Athens she accompanied him as far as the island Naxos, where the ungrateful wretch perfidiously left her. It is this scene of desertion which Haydn chose for his cantata.Ariadne is supposed to have just awakened from sleep and reclines upon a mossy bank. The firstnumber is a recitative and largo in which she hopefully calls upon Theseus to return. The melody is noble and spirited in style, and yet tender and fervent in its expression of love for the absent one. In the next number, a recitative and andante (“No one listens! My sad Words Echo but repeats”), hopefulness turns to anxiety. The contrast between the blissful longing of the one and the growing solicitude expressed in the other number is very striking. The next melody, anallegro vivace,—“What see I? O heavens! Unhappy me!Those are the sails of the Argosy! Greeks are those yonder!Theseus! ’Tis he stands at the prow,”—is remarkable for its passionate intensity and dramatic strength. The clouds of despair close over her, and she calls down the vengeance of the gods upon the deserter. In the next two numbers, an adagio (“To whom can I turn me?”), and an andante (“Ah! how for Death I am longing”), the melodies closely follow the sentiment of the text, accompanied by very expressive instrumentation. Anallegro presto, infused with the very spirit of hopeless gloom and despair, ends the cantata:—“Woe’s me! deceived, betrayed!Earth holds no consolation.”In the mythological version, however, consolation came; for Bacchus, “ever young,” and full of pity for lorn maids, married her, and gave her a crown of seven stars, which after her death was placed among the constellations. The music presents manydifficulties for a singer, as it requires the noblest style of declamation, peculiar refinement of sentiment, and rare musical intelligence, as well as facility in execution to give expression to its recitative and strongly contrasting melodies, which have no unity of key, but follow the varying sentiments, with their changes of tone-color, as closely as Theseus followed his thread.HILLER.Ferdinand Hiller, one of the most eminent of modern German composers, and a writer of more than ordinary ability, was born at Frankfort-on-the-Main, Oct. 24, 1811. His musical talent displayed itself so early that in his tenth year he appeared in concerts. In 1825 he began his studies with Hummel, and two years afterwards accompanied him on a concert-tour to Vienna, where he published his first work, a piano-forte quartet. He next went to Paris, where he remained until 1835, occupying for a time the position of professor in Choron’s “Institution de Musique,” but principally devoting himself to piano-playing, composition, and concerts. In 1836 he returned to Frankfort, and for more than a year conducted the concerts of the Cœcilienverein. He then went to Milan, where he met Rossini, and with his assistance brought out his opera “Romilda” at La Scala, but without much success. About the same time he began his oratorio “The Destruction of Jerusalem,” one of his most important works. In 1841 he made a secondjourney to Italy and gave particular attention to church music. On his return he first resided at Frankfort, but was soon in Leipsic, where he conducted the Gewandhaus concerts (1843-44), and after that time in Dresden, where he produced two more operas, “Traum in der Christ-nacht” and “Conradin.” In 1847 he was appointed municipal capellmeister at Düsseldorf, and three years later took a similar position at Cologne, where he organized the Conservatory. In that city he exercised a widespread influence, not alone by his teaching, but also by his direction of the famous Lower Rhine festivals. He also made many musical tours which increased his fame. In 1852-53 he conducted opera in Paris; in 1870, gave a series of successful concerts in St. Petersburg; and in 1871-72 visited England, where he produced his works both in public concerts and festivals. His compositions are very numerous, including among the most prominent, five operas, four overtures, a festival march for the opening of the Albert Hall, the Spring Symphony, the oratorios “Destruction of Jerusalem” and “Saul,” and the cantatas “Heloise,” “Night,” “Loreley,” “O weint um Sie,” “Ver sacrum,” “Nala and Damajanti,” “Song of Victory,” “Song of the Spirits over the Water,” “Prometheus,” and “Rebecca.” He has also enriched musical literature with many important works, among them, “Aus dem Tonleben unserer Zeit” (1867), “Personalisches und Musikalisches” (1876), “Recollectionsof Mendelssohn” (1874), and “Letters to an Unknown” (1877). He died in May, 1885.Song of Victory.The “Song of Victory,” a cantata for soprano solo, chorus, and orchestra, was first produced at the Cologne Festival of 1871, and was written to celebrate the victorious conclusion of the Franco-German war of 1870. It consists of eight numbers, all of which are sacred in character, though their purpose is to express gratitude and joy over the triumph of the German arms.The opening number is a vigorous, jubilant chorus (“The Lord great Wonders for us hath wrought”). It begins with a slow movement in massive chords, gathering animation as it proceeds, and closing pianissimo on the words, “There is none that searcheth or understandeth.” The second number is a soprano solo and chorus (“Praise, O Jerusalem, praise the Lord”) declamatory in style. The third (“The Heathen are fallen in the Pit”) is assigned to chorus, and is the most dramatic in the work, describing as it does the terrors of war. In the fourth (“See, it is written in the Book of the Righteous”), a short soprano solo, the melody is a tender lament for the dead. The fifth (“He in Tears that soweth”) is a soprano solo with chorus of first and second sopranos and altos. In this number lamentation gives way to hope and gladness, leading up to the last three numbers,—thesix-part chorus (“Mighty is our God”), full of effective sustained harmony, and the soprano solos and choruses of praise and hallelujah which resume the triumphant style of the opening chorus with increased power and enthusiasm.HOFMANN.Heinrich Karl Johann Hofmann was born Jan. 13, 1842, at Berlin. In his younger days he was a scholar at the Kullak Conservatory, and studied composition with Grell, Dehn, and Wüerst. Prior to 1873 he devoted himself to private instruction, but since that time he has been engaged exclusively in composition. Among his works which first attracted public attention by their intrinsic excellence as well as by the knowledge of orchestration which they displayed, were an “Hungarian Suite” and the “Frithjof Symphony.” Among his piano compositions are the following four-handed pieces, which have been remarkably popular: “Italienische Liebesnovelle,” “Liebesfrühling,” “Trompeter von Säckingen,” “Steppenbilder,” and “Aus meinem Tagebuch.” His choral works are “Nonnengesang,” “Die Schöne Melusine,” “Aschenbrödel,” and “Cinderella.” Among his operas are “Cartouche” (1869), “Armin” (1878), and “Annchen von Tharau” (1878). He has also written several works for mixed chorus andmännerchor, piano pieces, songs, duets, a violoncello concerto, piano trios and quartets, and a string sextet.Melusina.The beautiful story of Melusina has always had an attraction for artists and musicians. Moritz von Schwind, the painter, has illustrated it in a cycle of frescos; Julius Zellner has told it for us in a series of orchestral tone-pictures; and Mendelssohn has chosen it as the subject of one of his most charming overtures. The version which Hofmann uses in his cantata entitled “The Fable of the Fair Melusina” (written in 1875) runs as follows: Melusina, the nymph of a beautiful fountain in the Bressilian forest, and Count Raymond have fallen in love with each other. They declare their passion in the presence of her nymphs, and plight their troth. Melusina engages to be his dutiful wife the first six days of the week, but makes Raymond promise never to inquire or seek to discover what she does on the seventh, which, she assures him, shall “never see her stray from the path of duty.” On that day she must assume her original form, half fish and half woman, and bathe with her nymphs. Raymond promises, calls his hunters, introduces his bride to them, and the wedding cortège moves joyfully on to the castle. In the second part Raymond’s mother, Clotilda, and her brother, Sintram, intrigue against Melusina. They denounceher as a witch, and the accusation seems to be justified by a drought which has fallen upon the land since the marriage. The suffering people loudly clamor for the surrender of the “foul witch.” After long resistance Raymond is induced to break into the bathing-house which he had erected over the fountain. Melusina and her nymphs, surprised by him, call upon the king of the water-spirits to avenge his treason. The king appears and consigns him to death. Seized with pity, Melusina intercedes for him, and the king agrees to spare his life upon condition that they shall separate. Raymond once more embraces her, neither of them knowing that it will be fatal to him, dies in her arms, and the sorrowing Melusina returns to the flood.The prologue describes Melusina’s fountain, and contains a leading motive which characterizes Raymond. The chorus part is very romantic in its style, and is set to a graceful, poetical accompaniment. The opening number introduces Melusina and her nymphs in a chorus extolling their watery abode (“For the Flood is life-giving”). In the second number she describes the passion she feels when thinking of Raymond. The song is interrupted by horn signals indicating the approach of her lover and his hunters, who join in a fresh, vigorous hunting-song and then disperse. In the fourth number Raymond gives expression to his love for Melusina, followed by a fervid duet between them, in which the lovers interchange vows of constancy. The sixth number, describing their engagement in presence ofthe nymphs, and concluding with a stirring chorus of nymphs and hunters, closes the first part.The second part begins with a theme from the love-duet, followed by a significant theme in the minor, ominous of approaching danger. In the eighth number the people clamor in furious chorus for the witch. In the ninth, a trio and chorus, Clotilda warns her son of the misery he has brought upon his house and people, and urges him to discover what his wife does on the seventh day. The next number introduces Melusina and her nymphs in the bath, the former singing a plaintive song (“Love is freighted with Sorrow and Care”). A noise is heard at the gate, and the nymphs join in a chorus in canon form (“Hark! hark! Who has come to watch”). As Raymond appears, the scene grows very dramatic. The king of the water-spirits is summoned; but before he rises from the water Melusina, in very melodious recitative, laments her lover’s treason. The scene culminates in the sentence, “Let Death be his lot.” He is spared by her intercession, but she is commanded to return to the flood. Raymond appeals for forgiveness, and a part of the love-duet is repeated. The final embrace is fatal to him, and he dies in her arms. The chorus repeats the melody of the opening number (“For the Flood is life-giving”), and she bids her dead lover a last farewell, and disappears with the nymphs and water-spirits, singing, “Forget with the Dwellers on Earth all earthly Woe.” The epilogue is substantially the same as the prologue.LESLIE.Henry David Leslie was born in London, June 18, 1822, and in his sixteenth year began his musical studies with Charles Lucas, a famous violoncellist and for a long time principal of the Royal Academy of Music. Like his master, Leslie played the violoncello several years in the concerts of the Sacred Harmonic Society, subsequently becoming its conductor,—a position which he held until 1861. In 1855 he organized the famous Leslie choir of one hundred voices, which took the first prize at the international competition of 1878 in Paris. In 1863 he was chosen conductor of the Herefordshire Philharmonic Society, and in the following year became principal of the National College of Music. In 1874 he was appointed conductor of the Guild of Amateur Musicians in London. He has been a prolific and very popular composer, among his works being the following: Te Deum and Jubilate in D (1846); symphony in F (1847); anthem, “Let God arise” (1849); overture, “The Templar” (1852); oratorio, “Immanuel”(1853); operetta, “Romance, or Bold Dick Turpin” (1857); oratorio, “Judith,” written for the Birmingham Festival (1858); cantata, “Holyrood” (1860); cantata, “The Daughter of the Isles” (1861); and the opera “Ida” (1864). In addition to these he has written a large number of songs, anthems, part songs, madrigals, and piano pieces, besides music for his choir.Holyrood.“Holyrood” was written in 1861, and was first produced in February of that year at St. James’s Hall, London. Leslie’s collaborator was the accomplished scholar Chorley, who has certainly prepared one of the most refined and attractive librettos ever furnished a composer. The story represents an episode during the period of Queen Mary’s innocent life, overshadowed in the close by the dismal prophecy of the terrible fate so rapidly approaching her. The characters are Queen Mary (soprano), Mary Beatoun (Beton), her maid of honor (contralto); Rizzio, the ill-fated minstrel (tenor); and John Knox (bass). The scene is laid in a court of the palace of Holyrood, and introduces a coterie of the court ladies and gentlemen engaged in one of those joyous revels of which Mary was so fond. In the midst of the pleasantry, however, the Queen moves pensively about, overcome with sadness, as if her thoughts were far away. Her favorite maid tries in vain to rouse her from her melancholy witha Scotch ballad. The minstrel Rizzio is then urged to try his skill. He takes his lute and sings an Italian canzonet which has the desired effect. The sensuous music of the South diverts her. She expresses her delight, and seizing his lute sings her new joy in a French romance. It is interrupted by a Puritan psalm of warning heard outside. The revellers seek to drown it; but it grows in power, and only ceases when the leader, John Knox, enters with stern and forbidding countenance. The Queen is angry at first, but bids him welcome provided his mission is a kindly one. He answers with a warning. As he has the gift of prophecy, she orders him to read her future. After the bridal, the murder of the bridegroom; after the murder, battle; after the battle, prison; after the prison, the scaffold, is the tragic fate he foresees. The enraged courtiers call for his arrest and punishment, but the light-hearted Queen bids him go free:—“Let him go, and hear our laughter!Mirth to-day, whate’er come after.”The cantata opens with a chorus for female voices in three divisions, with a contralto solo, in the Scotch style:—“The mavis carols in the shaw,The leaves are green on every tree,And June, whose car the sunbeams draw,Is dropping gold on bank and lea;The hind is merry in the mead,The child that gathers gowan flower,The Thane upon his prancing steed,The high-born lady in her bower,—Gay, gay, all are gay,On this happy summer day.”After a short recitative passage in which Mary Beatoun appeals to the revellers to lure the Queen from her loneliness, and their reply (“O Lady, never sit alone”), the maid sings a very characteristic and engaging Scotch ballad:—“There once was a maiden in Melrose town(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)Who looked on the best in the country down,Because she had lovers, one, two, three.The first was a lord with his chest of gold,The second a ruddy shepherd so tall,The third was a spearsman bluff and bold,—But Pride, it goeth before a fall.“One hour she smilèd, the next she wept(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)And with frowns and blushes a chain she keptRound the necks of her hapless lovers three.For the lord in her lap poured wide his gold,And the shepherd ran at her beck and call,And the spearsman swore she was curst and cold,But Pride, it goeth before a fall.“At last it fell out on a bleak March day(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)There sate at her window the maiden gayAnd looked o’er the frost for her lovers three.But the lord had to France sailed forth with his gold,And the shepherd had married her playmate small,And the spearsman in battle lay stark and cold,—So Pride, it goeth before a fall.”As might have been expected, this mournful ditty fails to rouse the Queen from her melancholy, whereupon Rizzio takes his lute and sings the canzonet “Calla stagion novella,” a very slow and graceful movement, closing with a sensuous allegro,written in the genuine Italian style, though rather Verdi-ish for the times of Rizzio. The canzonet has the desired effect, and is followed by a delightful French romance, sung by the Queen, in which a tender minor theme is set off against a fascinating waltz melody, closing with a brilliant finale:—“In my pleasant land of FranceThere is gladness everywhere;In the very streams a dance,Full of life, yet debonair,Ah, me! ah, me!To have left it was a sin,Even for this kind countrie.But we will not mourn to-day,Bid the harp and rebec play,Merrilie, merrilie,Sing and smile, and jocund be;If my father’s land is dear,Mirth and valor still are here;Maidens faithful, champions gay,France has melted far awayBeyond the sea.”At the close of the pretty romance, the revel begins with a stately minuet and vocal trio (“Fal, lal, la”) for the Queen, Mary Beatoun, and Rizzio. It is interrupted by the unison psalm-tune of the Puritans, a stern, severe old melody set to a “moving bass” accompaniment:—“O thou who sittest on the throneAnd wilt exalt thine horn on high,While captive men in prison groan,And women poor of hunger die,Beware! albeit a Haman proud,Served by thy slaves on bended knee,The heaven can speak in thunder loudAnd rend to dust both them and thee.”There is a temporary pause in the revels, but at the Queen’s command they are resumed with a quick-step introduced by the pipes and full of the genuine Scotch spirit and bustle, the “Fal lal” trio and chorus still accompanying it. It is interrupted afresh by a repetition of the psalm (“A Hand of Fire was on the Wall”), after which John Knox enters. With his entrance the gay music closes and the work assumes a gloomy tragic cast as the dialogue proceeds and the terrible incidents of the prophecy are unfolded. It is a relief when they join in a hopeful duet (“E’en if Earth should wholly fail me”) which is very quiet and melodious. It leads to the Queen’s farewell, a quaintly-written bit, with an old-fashioned cadenza, followed by the final chorus, which takes up a theme in the same joyous spirit as the opening one:—“Hence with evil omen,Doleful bird of night,Who in tears of womenTakest chief delight!Think not to alarm her,As with mystic power;Nought shall ever harm her,Scotland’s lily flower.”LISZT.Franz Liszt, the most eminent pianist of his time, who also obtained world-wide celebrity as a composer and orchestral conductor, was born at Raiding, Hungary, Oct. 22, 1811. His father was an accomplished amateur, and played the piano and violoncello with more than ordinary skill. He was so impressed with the promise of his son that he not only gave him lessons in music, but also devoted himself to his artistic progress with the utmost assiduity. In his ninth year Liszt played for the first time in public at Oedenburg. His performances aroused such enthusiasm that several Hungarian noblemen encouraged him to continue his studies, and guaranteed him sufficient to defray the expenses of six years’ tuition. He went to Vienna at once and studied the piano with Czerny, besides taking lessons in composition of Salieri and Randhartinger. It was while in that city that his first composition, a variation on a waltz of Diabelli, appeared. In 1823 he went to Paris, hoping to secure permission to enter the Conservatory; but Cherubini refused it onaccount of his foreign origin, though Cherubini himself was a foreigner. Nothing daunted, young Liszt continued his studies with Reicha and Paer, and two years afterwards brought out a two-act opera entitled “Don Sancho,” which met with a very cordial reception. The slight he received from Cherubini aroused popular sympathy for him. His wonderful playing attracted universal attention and gained him admission into the most brilliant Parisian salons. He was a favorite with every one, especially with the ladies. For two or three years he made artistic tours through France, Switzerland, and England, accompanied by his father, and everywhere met with the most brilliant success. In 1827 the father died, leaving him alone in the world; but good fortune was on his side. During his stay in Paris he had made the friendship of Victor Hugo, George Sand, Lamartine, and other great lights in literature and music, and their influence prepared the way for his permanent success. From 1839 to 1847 he travelled from one city to another, arousing the most extraordinary enthusiasm; his progress was one continued ovation. In 1849 he went to Weimar and accepted the post of conductor at the Court Theatre. He made that city the musical centre of Europe. It was there that his greatest compositions were written, that the school of the music of the future was founded, and that Wagner’s operas first gained an unprejudiced hearing; and it is from Weimar that his distinguished pupils, like Von Bülow, Tausig, Bendel, Bronsart, Klindworth, Winterberger,Reubke, and many others date their success. In 1859 he resigned his position and after that time resided at Rome, Pesth, and Weimar, working for the best interest of his beloved art, and encouraging young musicians to reach the highest standards. Few men of this century have had such a powerful influence upon music, or have done so much to elevate and purify it. His most important works were the “Divina Commedia” and “Faust” symphonies, the twelve symphonic poems, the six Hungarian rhapsodies, the “Graner Mass,” the “Hungarian Coronation Mass,” and the oratorios “Christus” and “The Legend of the Holy Elizabeth.” Besides these he wrote a large number of orchestral pieces, songs, and cantatas, and a rich and varied collection of piano-forte solos, transcriptions, and arrangements. He died July 31, 1886.Prometheus.Liszt’s cantata “Prometheus,” composed in 1850, is based upon the poem of the same name, written by Johann Gottfried von Herder, the court preacher of Weimar. The poem closely follows the well-known legend of Prometheus’ punishment for stealing fire from heaven, and his ultimate rescue by Hercules from the vulture which preyed upon his vitals. The poet pictures the victim in the midst of his sufferings, consoled by the knowledgethat he has been a benefactor to the human race. The spirits of the ocean mock and menace him, but the harvesters and tillers of the soil praise him for the bounteous gifts he has given to the earth. Ceres and Bacchus, protectors of the soil and its products, also pay their tribute of sympathy to him and thank him for the blessing of fire. Hercules at last releases him from his torture by killing the vulture and breaking the chains which bind him to his rock. The sufferer is brought before Themis, who announces that the divine wrath has been appeased by his long punishment, and that the gods forgive him.In building up his cantata Liszt has introduced several prologues from the poem without music, which serve as narrators explaining the situations, linking and leading up to the musical numbers, which are mainly choral. Thus the opening prologue pictures the sufferings of Prometheus, the crime for which he is forced to endure such a terrible penalty, and the patience, hope, and heroism of the victim. The closing lines,—“Now through the hush of night burst well-known voicesUpon his ear. From out the slumbering ocean,Fanning his cheek with breath of the sea waves,The daughters of Oceanus approach,”—introduce the opening chorus of sea-nymphs (“Prometheus, Woe to thee”), for female voices, arranged in double parts, and set to a restless, agitated accompaniment, expressive of fear and despair. The second prologue, reciting the wrathof Oceanus “on his swift-winged ocean steed,” that mortals should have dared to vex his peaceful waters, and the reply of Prometheus that “on the broad earth each place is free to all,” introduces the choruses of Tritons and Oceanides. The first is a mixed chorus full of brightness and spirit (“Freedom! afar from Land upon the open Sea”). Their exultant song is followed by a fascinating melody (“Hail! O Prometheus, hail!”) for female chorus, with short but expressive solos for soprano and alto (“When to our Waters the golden Time shall come”), the number closing with double chorus in full rich harmony (“Holy and grand and free is the Gift of Heaven”). Thereupon follows the third prologue:—“Scarcely has ceased the Ocean’s song of joy,Which, breathing peace unto Prometheus’ soul,Wakens within his breast long-buried hope,When once again the sound of lamentationBursts on his ear and fills the air with sighs.Seated within a lion-drawn chariot comesThe founder of his race—Gæa herself—With her a train of wood-nymphs, loudly weeping.”It introduces a chorus of Dryads (“Woe to thee, Prometheus”) of the same general character as the opening chorus of sea-nymphs, and containing a very dramatic and declamatory alto solo (“Deserted stand God’s sacred Altars in the old Forest”). A dialogue follows between Gæa and Prometheus, in which the latter bravely defends his course. As the Dryads disappear, Prometheus soliloquizes:—“‘This is, in truth, the noblest deedMortal has ever dared. Beat high, my heart!On this foundation built I up my race,—On deathless friendship and fraternity.Courage, Alcides! Bravely fight thy fight.Conquer, and thou shalt free me.’ From his dreams,Roused is the Titan by a song of joy.Before him, crowned with the rich harvest, standsCeres with her train of reapers.”A mixed chorus of gleaners follows (“With the Lark sweetly singing”), which can hardly be excelled for grace and loveliness of melody. In the next prologue Ceres consoles Prometheus, and while she is speaking a shout of gladness rises and Bacchus appears. He smites the rock, and at his touch a bower of grape-vines and ivy boughs interlaces over the head of the Titan and shadows him. This serves to introduce the chorus of Vine-dressers (“Hail to the Pleasure-giver”), a lively strain for male voices with an effective solo quartet. As Prometheus resumes his soliloquy, Hermes approaches, leading Pandora, and seeks to allure him from his purpose by her enchantments, but in vain:—“The Titan conquers, and he feels the hour—The fated hour—draw near. Above his headThe vulture hovers, fearing to approach;While the earth trembles, and the rocks are shaken.Voices are heard from out the gloomy depths.”The voices are those of the spirits in the lower regions singing a very melodramatic chorus (“Woe! woe! the sacred Sleep of the Dead has been disturbed”).Anallegro moderatofor orchestra follows, preluding the approach of Hercules, who bends his giant bow and kills the vulture, strikes the fetters off and bids him “Go hence unto thy Mother’s Throne.” The scene introduces the seventh number (“All human Foresight wanders in deepest Night”), an expressive and stately male chorus with solo quartet. The last prologue describes the scene at the throne of Themis, the pardon of Prometheus, and her assurance that “Henceforth Olympus smiles upon the Earth.” Pallas presents him with a veiled figure as the reward of his heroism, “who will bring to thy race the richest blessing,—Truth.” The goddess unveils her and declares her name “Agathea. She brings to man the purest, holiest gift,—Charity.” The closing chorus of the Muses follows:—“Of all bright thoughts that bloom on earth,That raise poor mortals high as heaven,The holiest, the blessedest is Charity.Hail, Prometheus! Hail to mankind!”

HATTON.John Liphot Hatton, a composer well known in America, not only by his songs and other works, but also by his visits here, was born in Liverpool in 1809. Though his early musical education was very scanty, he soon became known as a composer after his removal to London in 1832, and his works met with a very cordial reception. In 1842 he became conductor at Drury Lane Theatre, and while acting in that capacity brought out one of his operettas, called “The Queen of the Thames.” In 1844 he went to Vienna and produced his opera “Pascal Bruno.” Shortly afterwards he issued several songs under thenom de plumeof “Czapek,” which secured for themselves widespread popularity. In 1848 he came to this country, and some years later made a concert-tour here. Upon his return to England he assumed direction of the music at the Princess’ Theatre, and while engaged there wrote incidental music for “Macbeth,” “Sardanapalus,” “Faust and Marguerite,” “King Henry VIII.,” “Pizarro,” “King Richard II.,” “King Lear,” “The Merchant ofVenice,” and “Much Ado About Nothing.” In 1856 he wrote “Robin Hood,” a cantata; in 1864 the opera “Rose, or Love’s Ransom,” for Covent Garden; and in 1877 “Hezekiah,” a sacred drama, which was performed at the Crystal Palace. He has also written a large number of part songs, which are great favorites with quartet clubs, and nearly two hundred songs which are very popular; among them, “Good-by, Sweetheart, good-by,” which has been a stock piece with concert tenors for years, and which the late Signor Brignoli used to sing with excellent effect. His music is specially characterized by grace and melodiousness. Hatton died in 1886.

John Liphot Hatton, a composer well known in America, not only by his songs and other works, but also by his visits here, was born in Liverpool in 1809. Though his early musical education was very scanty, he soon became known as a composer after his removal to London in 1832, and his works met with a very cordial reception. In 1842 he became conductor at Drury Lane Theatre, and while acting in that capacity brought out one of his operettas, called “The Queen of the Thames.” In 1844 he went to Vienna and produced his opera “Pascal Bruno.” Shortly afterwards he issued several songs under thenom de plumeof “Czapek,” which secured for themselves widespread popularity. In 1848 he came to this country, and some years later made a concert-tour here. Upon his return to England he assumed direction of the music at the Princess’ Theatre, and while engaged there wrote incidental music for “Macbeth,” “Sardanapalus,” “Faust and Marguerite,” “King Henry VIII.,” “Pizarro,” “King Richard II.,” “King Lear,” “The Merchant ofVenice,” and “Much Ado About Nothing.” In 1856 he wrote “Robin Hood,” a cantata; in 1864 the opera “Rose, or Love’s Ransom,” for Covent Garden; and in 1877 “Hezekiah,” a sacred drama, which was performed at the Crystal Palace. He has also written a large number of part songs, which are great favorites with quartet clubs, and nearly two hundred songs which are very popular; among them, “Good-by, Sweetheart, good-by,” which has been a stock piece with concert tenors for years, and which the late Signor Brignoli used to sing with excellent effect. His music is specially characterized by grace and melodiousness. Hatton died in 1886.

Robin Hood.The pastoral cantata of “Robin Hood” was written for the Bradford (England) Triennial Festival of 1856, Sims Reeves creating the part of the hero. Its name suggests the well-known story of the greenwood outlaw which has been charmingly versified by George Linley in the libretto. The personages are Maid Marian, Robin Hood, Little John, and “The Bishop.” Maid Marian, it will be remembered, was the mistress who followed Robin into the Sherwood Forest and shared his wild life; and Little John was his stalwart lieutenant, whose name was transposed after he joined the band, thus heightening the incongruity between his name and his great size. The incident contained in Linley’spoem appears to have been suggested by Robin Hood’s penchant for capturing bishops and other ecclesiastics, notwithstanding his religious professions, which were exemplified by the retention of Friar Tuck as chaplain in the bold archer’s household; or it may be based upon the historical story of the expedition which Edward II. and some of his retainers, disguised as monks, made into the forest for the purpose of exterminating the outlaws and thus stopping their slaughter of the royal deer. As the old story goes, they were led into an ambuscade by a forester who had agreed to conduct them to the haunts of Robin, and were captured. When Robin recognized the King in the disguise of the abbot, he craved forgiveness for himself and his band, which was granted upon condition that he should accompany his sovereign to Court and take a place in the royal household. The old collection of ballads, “The Lytell Geste of Robyn Hood,” tells the same story and continues it, relating how after “dwelling in the Kynge’s courte” a year, he tired of it and obtained permission to make a visit to the woods again, but forfeited his word and never returned, dying at last in Kirklees priory, through the treachery of the abbess, and how in his last moments he blew a loud blast on his horn, summoning Little John from the forest, to whom, after he had forced his way into his chamber, the dying Robin said:“Give me my bent bow in my hand,And an arrow I’ll let free,And where that arrow is taken up,There let my grave digged be.”The cantata opens with a chorus of the outlaws, who vigorously assert their independence of tribute, laws, and monarchs, followed by a bombastic bass aria by the Bishop, who threatens them for destroying the King’s deer. His grandiloquence is speedily interrupted by the outlaws, with Robin at their head, who surround him without further ado and make him the butt of their sport. Robin Hood sings a charmingly melodious ballad, “Under the Greenwood Tree,” in which the Bishop is invited to become one of their number and share their sylvan enjoyments. A trio and chorus follow, in the course of which the Bishop parts with his personal possessions in favor of the gentlemen around him in Lincoln green with “bent bows.” A chorus (“Strike the Harp”) also informs us that the ecclesiastic is forced to dance for the genial band much against his will as well as his dignity. Robin’s sentimentalizing about the pleasures under the greenwood tree is still further emphasized by a madrigal for female voices, supposed to be sung by the forest maidens, though their identity is not very clear, as Marian was the only maid that accompanied the band. After the plundering scene, the cantata grows more passionate in character, describing a pretty and tender love-scene between Robin and Marian, which is somewhat incongruous, whether Marian be considered as the outlaw’s mistress, or, as some of the old chroniclers have it, his wife Matilda, who changed her name when she followed him into the forest. From the musical standpoint,however, it affords an opportunity for another graceful ballad of sentiment, in which Marian describes her heart as “a frail bark upon the waters of love;” a duet in which the lovers passionately declare their love for each other as well as their delight with the forest; and a final chorus of the band, jubilantly proclaiming their hatred of kings and courtiers, and their loyalty to Robin Hood and Maid Marian. It may be worthy of note in this connection that Bishop, the English composer, wrote a legendary opera called “Maid Marian, or the Huntress of Arlingford,” in which the heroine is Matilda.

The pastoral cantata of “Robin Hood” was written for the Bradford (England) Triennial Festival of 1856, Sims Reeves creating the part of the hero. Its name suggests the well-known story of the greenwood outlaw which has been charmingly versified by George Linley in the libretto. The personages are Maid Marian, Robin Hood, Little John, and “The Bishop.” Maid Marian, it will be remembered, was the mistress who followed Robin into the Sherwood Forest and shared his wild life; and Little John was his stalwart lieutenant, whose name was transposed after he joined the band, thus heightening the incongruity between his name and his great size. The incident contained in Linley’spoem appears to have been suggested by Robin Hood’s penchant for capturing bishops and other ecclesiastics, notwithstanding his religious professions, which were exemplified by the retention of Friar Tuck as chaplain in the bold archer’s household; or it may be based upon the historical story of the expedition which Edward II. and some of his retainers, disguised as monks, made into the forest for the purpose of exterminating the outlaws and thus stopping their slaughter of the royal deer. As the old story goes, they were led into an ambuscade by a forester who had agreed to conduct them to the haunts of Robin, and were captured. When Robin recognized the King in the disguise of the abbot, he craved forgiveness for himself and his band, which was granted upon condition that he should accompany his sovereign to Court and take a place in the royal household. The old collection of ballads, “The Lytell Geste of Robyn Hood,” tells the same story and continues it, relating how after “dwelling in the Kynge’s courte” a year, he tired of it and obtained permission to make a visit to the woods again, but forfeited his word and never returned, dying at last in Kirklees priory, through the treachery of the abbess, and how in his last moments he blew a loud blast on his horn, summoning Little John from the forest, to whom, after he had forced his way into his chamber, the dying Robin said:

“Give me my bent bow in my hand,And an arrow I’ll let free,And where that arrow is taken up,There let my grave digged be.”

“Give me my bent bow in my hand,And an arrow I’ll let free,And where that arrow is taken up,There let my grave digged be.”

“Give me my bent bow in my hand,

And an arrow I’ll let free,

And where that arrow is taken up,

There let my grave digged be.”

The cantata opens with a chorus of the outlaws, who vigorously assert their independence of tribute, laws, and monarchs, followed by a bombastic bass aria by the Bishop, who threatens them for destroying the King’s deer. His grandiloquence is speedily interrupted by the outlaws, with Robin at their head, who surround him without further ado and make him the butt of their sport. Robin Hood sings a charmingly melodious ballad, “Under the Greenwood Tree,” in which the Bishop is invited to become one of their number and share their sylvan enjoyments. A trio and chorus follow, in the course of which the Bishop parts with his personal possessions in favor of the gentlemen around him in Lincoln green with “bent bows.” A chorus (“Strike the Harp”) also informs us that the ecclesiastic is forced to dance for the genial band much against his will as well as his dignity. Robin’s sentimentalizing about the pleasures under the greenwood tree is still further emphasized by a madrigal for female voices, supposed to be sung by the forest maidens, though their identity is not very clear, as Marian was the only maid that accompanied the band. After the plundering scene, the cantata grows more passionate in character, describing a pretty and tender love-scene between Robin and Marian, which is somewhat incongruous, whether Marian be considered as the outlaw’s mistress, or, as some of the old chroniclers have it, his wife Matilda, who changed her name when she followed him into the forest. From the musical standpoint,however, it affords an opportunity for another graceful ballad of sentiment, in which Marian describes her heart as “a frail bark upon the waters of love;” a duet in which the lovers passionately declare their love for each other as well as their delight with the forest; and a final chorus of the band, jubilantly proclaiming their hatred of kings and courtiers, and their loyalty to Robin Hood and Maid Marian. It may be worthy of note in this connection that Bishop, the English composer, wrote a legendary opera called “Maid Marian, or the Huntress of Arlingford,” in which the heroine is Matilda.

HAYDN.Joseph Haydn, the creator of the symphony and the string quartet, was born at Rohrau, a little Austrian village on the river Leitha, March 31, 1732. His father was a wheelwright and his mother a cook, in service with Count Harrach. Both the parents were fond of music, and both sang, the father accompanying himself upon the harp, which he played by ear. The child displayed a voice so beautiful that in his sixth year he was allowed to study music, and was also given a place in the village church-choir. Reutter, the capellmeister of St. Stephen’s, Vienna, having heard him, was so impressed with the beauty of his voice that he offered him a position as chorister. Haydn eagerly accepted it, as it gave him an opportunity for study. While in the service of St. Stephen’s he had lessons on the violin and piano, as well as in composition. When his voice broke, and his singing was of no further value, he was thrown upon the tender mercies of the world. Fortune favored him, however. He obtained a few pupils, and gave himself to composition.He made the acquaintance of Metastasio, Porpora, and Gluck. His trios began to attract attention, and he soon found himself rising into prominence. In 1759, through the influence of a wealthy friend and amateur, he was appointed to the post of musical director and composer in the service of Count Morzin, and about this time wrote his first symphony. When the Count dismissed his band, Prince Paul Anton Esterhazy received him as his second capellmeister, under Werner. When the latter died, in 1766, Haydn took his place as sole director. His patron meanwhile had died, and was succeeded by his son Nicolaus, between whom and Haydn there was the utmost good feeling. Up to this time Haydn had written thirty symphonies, a large number of trios, quartets, and several vocal pieces. His connection with the Prince lasted until 1790, and was only terminated by the latter’s death. During this period of twenty-eight years his musical activity was unceasing; and as he had an orchestra of his own, and his patron was ardently devoted to music, the incentive to composition was never lacking. Anton succeeded Nicolaus, and was generous enough to increase Haydn’s pension; but he dismissed the entire chapel, and the composer took up his abode in Vienna. He was hardly established before he received a flattering proposition from Salomon, the manager, to go to England. He had already had many pressing invitations from others, but could not accept them, owing to his engagement to Esterhazy. Now that he was free, hedecided to make the journey. On New Year’s Day, 1791, he arrived in London. Success greeted him at once. He became universally popular. Musicians and musical societies paid him devoted attention. He gave a series of symphony concerts which aroused the greatest enthusiasm. He was treated with distinguished courtesy by the royal family. Oxford gave him the honorary degree of Doctor of Music. The nobility entertained him sumptuously. After a year of continuous fêtes he returned to Germany, where he remained two years, during a portion of which time Beethoven was his pupil. In 1794 he made his second journey to England, where his former successes were repeated, and fresh honors were showered upon him. In 1804 he was notified by Prince Esterhazy that he was about to reorganize his chapel, and wished him for its conductor again. Haydn accordingly returned to his old position, where he remained during the rest of his life. He was already an old man, but it was during this period that his most remarkable works were produced, among them the Austrian National Hymn (“Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser”), the “Seven Words,” the “Creation,” the “Seasons,” and many of his best trios and quartets. He died May 31, 1809, a few days after the occupation of Vienna by the French, and among the mourners at his funeral were many French officers. Funeral services were held in all the principal European cities. Honored and respected all over Europe, he was most deeply loved by his owncountrymen, who still affectionately speak of him as “Papa” Haydn.

Joseph Haydn, the creator of the symphony and the string quartet, was born at Rohrau, a little Austrian village on the river Leitha, March 31, 1732. His father was a wheelwright and his mother a cook, in service with Count Harrach. Both the parents were fond of music, and both sang, the father accompanying himself upon the harp, which he played by ear. The child displayed a voice so beautiful that in his sixth year he was allowed to study music, and was also given a place in the village church-choir. Reutter, the capellmeister of St. Stephen’s, Vienna, having heard him, was so impressed with the beauty of his voice that he offered him a position as chorister. Haydn eagerly accepted it, as it gave him an opportunity for study. While in the service of St. Stephen’s he had lessons on the violin and piano, as well as in composition. When his voice broke, and his singing was of no further value, he was thrown upon the tender mercies of the world. Fortune favored him, however. He obtained a few pupils, and gave himself to composition.He made the acquaintance of Metastasio, Porpora, and Gluck. His trios began to attract attention, and he soon found himself rising into prominence. In 1759, through the influence of a wealthy friend and amateur, he was appointed to the post of musical director and composer in the service of Count Morzin, and about this time wrote his first symphony. When the Count dismissed his band, Prince Paul Anton Esterhazy received him as his second capellmeister, under Werner. When the latter died, in 1766, Haydn took his place as sole director. His patron meanwhile had died, and was succeeded by his son Nicolaus, between whom and Haydn there was the utmost good feeling. Up to this time Haydn had written thirty symphonies, a large number of trios, quartets, and several vocal pieces. His connection with the Prince lasted until 1790, and was only terminated by the latter’s death. During this period of twenty-eight years his musical activity was unceasing; and as he had an orchestra of his own, and his patron was ardently devoted to music, the incentive to composition was never lacking. Anton succeeded Nicolaus, and was generous enough to increase Haydn’s pension; but he dismissed the entire chapel, and the composer took up his abode in Vienna. He was hardly established before he received a flattering proposition from Salomon, the manager, to go to England. He had already had many pressing invitations from others, but could not accept them, owing to his engagement to Esterhazy. Now that he was free, hedecided to make the journey. On New Year’s Day, 1791, he arrived in London. Success greeted him at once. He became universally popular. Musicians and musical societies paid him devoted attention. He gave a series of symphony concerts which aroused the greatest enthusiasm. He was treated with distinguished courtesy by the royal family. Oxford gave him the honorary degree of Doctor of Music. The nobility entertained him sumptuously. After a year of continuous fêtes he returned to Germany, where he remained two years, during a portion of which time Beethoven was his pupil. In 1794 he made his second journey to England, where his former successes were repeated, and fresh honors were showered upon him. In 1804 he was notified by Prince Esterhazy that he was about to reorganize his chapel, and wished him for its conductor again. Haydn accordingly returned to his old position, where he remained during the rest of his life. He was already an old man, but it was during this period that his most remarkable works were produced, among them the Austrian National Hymn (“Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser”), the “Seven Words,” the “Creation,” the “Seasons,” and many of his best trios and quartets. He died May 31, 1809, a few days after the occupation of Vienna by the French, and among the mourners at his funeral were many French officers. Funeral services were held in all the principal European cities. Honored and respected all over Europe, he was most deeply loved by his owncountrymen, who still affectionately speak of him as “Papa” Haydn.

The Seven Words.“The Seven Words of Jesus on the Cross,” sometimes called “The Passion,” was written by Haydn in 1785, for the cathedral of Cadiz, upon a commission from the chapter for appropriate music for Good Friday. It was at first composed as an instrumental work, consisting of seven adagio movements, and in this form was produced in London by the composer himself as a “Passione instrumentale.” He afterwards introduced solos and choruses, and divided it into two parts, separating them by a largo movement for wind instruments. It was then given at Eisenstadt in 1797, and four years later was published in the new form, with the following preface by the composer himself:—About fifteen years ago I was applied to by a clergyman in Cadiz, and requested to write instrumental music to the seven words of Jesus on the cross. It was then customary every year, during Lent, to perform an Oratorio in the Cathedral at Cadiz, the effect of which the following arrangements contributed to heighten. The walls, windows, and columns of the church were hung with black cloth, and only one large lamp, hanging in the centre, lighted the solemn and religious gloom. At noon all the doors were closed, and the music began. After a prelude, suited to the occasion, the bishop ascended the pulpit, pronounced one of the seven words, which was succeeded by reflectionsupon it. As soon as these were ended he descended from the pulpit and knelt before the altar. The pause was filled by music. The bishop ascended and descended again a second, a third time, and so on; and each time the orchestra filled up the intervals in the discourse.My composition must be judged on a consideration of these circumstances. The task of writing seven adagios, each of which was to last about ten minutes, to preserve a connection between them, without wearying the hearers, was none of the lightest, and I soon found that I could not confine myself within the limits of the time prescribed.The music was originally without text, and was printed in that form. It was only at a later period that I was induced to add the text. The Oratorio entitled “The Seven Words of our Redeemer on the Cross,” as a complete and, as regards the vocal parts, an entirely new work, was first published by Messrs. Breitkopf and Härtel, of Leipsic. The partiality with which this work has been received by scientific musicians leads me to hope that it will not be without effect on the public at large.Joseph Haydn.Vienna, March 1, 1880.As the various movements are all of the same general tone and character, though varied with all that skill and mastery of instrumental effect for which Haydn was so conspicuous, it is needless to describe each separately. By many of the musicians of his day it was considered one of his most sublime productions; and Bombet declares that Haydn on more than one occasion, when he was asked towhich of his works he gave the preference, replied, “The Seven Words.”It opens with an adagio for full orchestra, of a very sorrowful but impressive character. Then follow each of the Seven Words, given out in simple chorale form, followed by its chorus, namely:—I.PATIENCE.“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”Chorus: “Lamb of God! Surely Thou hast borne our sorrows.”II.THE PENITENT FORGIVEN.“Verily I say unto thee, this day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.”Chorus: “Lord, have mercy on me after Thy great goodness.”III.THE MOURNERS.“Woman, behold thy Son. Son, behold Thy mother.”Chorus: “Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for Me.”IV.DESOLATION.“Eli, Eli, lama sabacthani?”Chorus: “O my God, look upon Me.”V.THE BITTER CUP.“I thirst.”Chorus: “He treadeth the winepress of the fierceness and wrath.”VI.COMPLETE OBEDIENCE.“It is finished.”Chorus: “He came down from Heaven.”VII.THE GREAT OBLATION.“Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.”Chorus: “Into Thy hands, O Lord.”Following immediately after the last number the whole spirit of the music changes with the chorus, “The Veil of the Temple was rent in twain,” a presto movement, sung fortissimo, describing the darkness, the quaking of the earth, the rending of the rocks, the opening of the graves, and the arising of the bodies of the saints who slept, with all that vividness in imitation and sublimity of effect which characterize so many of the composer’s passages in “The Creation” and “The Seasons.” Haydn was by nature a deeply religious man, and that he felt the inspiration of the solemn subject is shown by the manner in which he conceived it, and by the exalted devotion of the music which accompanies thelast words of the Man of Sorrows. The lines which Bombet quotes from Dante in this connection are hardly exaggerated:—“He with such piety his thought reveals,And with such heavenly sweetness clothes each tone,That hell itself the melting influence feels.”

“The Seven Words of Jesus on the Cross,” sometimes called “The Passion,” was written by Haydn in 1785, for the cathedral of Cadiz, upon a commission from the chapter for appropriate music for Good Friday. It was at first composed as an instrumental work, consisting of seven adagio movements, and in this form was produced in London by the composer himself as a “Passione instrumentale.” He afterwards introduced solos and choruses, and divided it into two parts, separating them by a largo movement for wind instruments. It was then given at Eisenstadt in 1797, and four years later was published in the new form, with the following preface by the composer himself:—

About fifteen years ago I was applied to by a clergyman in Cadiz, and requested to write instrumental music to the seven words of Jesus on the cross. It was then customary every year, during Lent, to perform an Oratorio in the Cathedral at Cadiz, the effect of which the following arrangements contributed to heighten. The walls, windows, and columns of the church were hung with black cloth, and only one large lamp, hanging in the centre, lighted the solemn and religious gloom. At noon all the doors were closed, and the music began. After a prelude, suited to the occasion, the bishop ascended the pulpit, pronounced one of the seven words, which was succeeded by reflectionsupon it. As soon as these were ended he descended from the pulpit and knelt before the altar. The pause was filled by music. The bishop ascended and descended again a second, a third time, and so on; and each time the orchestra filled up the intervals in the discourse.

My composition must be judged on a consideration of these circumstances. The task of writing seven adagios, each of which was to last about ten minutes, to preserve a connection between them, without wearying the hearers, was none of the lightest, and I soon found that I could not confine myself within the limits of the time prescribed.

The music was originally without text, and was printed in that form. It was only at a later period that I was induced to add the text. The Oratorio entitled “The Seven Words of our Redeemer on the Cross,” as a complete and, as regards the vocal parts, an entirely new work, was first published by Messrs. Breitkopf and Härtel, of Leipsic. The partiality with which this work has been received by scientific musicians leads me to hope that it will not be without effect on the public at large.

Joseph Haydn.

Joseph Haydn.

Vienna, March 1, 1880.

As the various movements are all of the same general tone and character, though varied with all that skill and mastery of instrumental effect for which Haydn was so conspicuous, it is needless to describe each separately. By many of the musicians of his day it was considered one of his most sublime productions; and Bombet declares that Haydn on more than one occasion, when he was asked towhich of his works he gave the preference, replied, “The Seven Words.”

It opens with an adagio for full orchestra, of a very sorrowful but impressive character. Then follow each of the Seven Words, given out in simple chorale form, followed by its chorus, namely:—

I.PATIENCE.“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”Chorus: “Lamb of God! Surely Thou hast borne our sorrows.”II.THE PENITENT FORGIVEN.“Verily I say unto thee, this day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.”Chorus: “Lord, have mercy on me after Thy great goodness.”III.THE MOURNERS.“Woman, behold thy Son. Son, behold Thy mother.”Chorus: “Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for Me.”IV.DESOLATION.“Eli, Eli, lama sabacthani?”Chorus: “O my God, look upon Me.”V.THE BITTER CUP.“I thirst.”Chorus: “He treadeth the winepress of the fierceness and wrath.”VI.COMPLETE OBEDIENCE.“It is finished.”Chorus: “He came down from Heaven.”VII.THE GREAT OBLATION.“Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.”Chorus: “Into Thy hands, O Lord.”

I.PATIENCE.

“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”

Chorus: “Lamb of God! Surely Thou hast borne our sorrows.”

II.THE PENITENT FORGIVEN.

“Verily I say unto thee, this day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.”

Chorus: “Lord, have mercy on me after Thy great goodness.”

III.THE MOURNERS.

“Woman, behold thy Son. Son, behold Thy mother.”

Chorus: “Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for Me.”

IV.DESOLATION.

“Eli, Eli, lama sabacthani?”

Chorus: “O my God, look upon Me.”

V.THE BITTER CUP.

“I thirst.”

Chorus: “He treadeth the winepress of the fierceness and wrath.”

VI.COMPLETE OBEDIENCE.

“It is finished.”

Chorus: “He came down from Heaven.”

VII.THE GREAT OBLATION.

“Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.”

Chorus: “Into Thy hands, O Lord.”

Following immediately after the last number the whole spirit of the music changes with the chorus, “The Veil of the Temple was rent in twain,” a presto movement, sung fortissimo, describing the darkness, the quaking of the earth, the rending of the rocks, the opening of the graves, and the arising of the bodies of the saints who slept, with all that vividness in imitation and sublimity of effect which characterize so many of the composer’s passages in “The Creation” and “The Seasons.” Haydn was by nature a deeply religious man, and that he felt the inspiration of the solemn subject is shown by the manner in which he conceived it, and by the exalted devotion of the music which accompanies thelast words of the Man of Sorrows. The lines which Bombet quotes from Dante in this connection are hardly exaggerated:—

“He with such piety his thought reveals,And with such heavenly sweetness clothes each tone,That hell itself the melting influence feels.”

“He with such piety his thought reveals,And with such heavenly sweetness clothes each tone,That hell itself the melting influence feels.”

“He with such piety his thought reveals,

And with such heavenly sweetness clothes each tone,

That hell itself the melting influence feels.”

Ariadne.The cantata “Ariana a Naxos” was written in 1792, and is for a single voice with orchestra. As an illustration of the original cantata form, it is one of the most striking and perfect. Its story is an episode familiar in mythology. When Minos, King of Crete, had vanquished the Athenians, he imposed upon Ægeus, their king, the severe penalty that seven youths should be annually sent to Crete to be devoured by the Minotaur. In the fourth year the king’s son, Theseus, was among the number. He was more fortunate than his predecessors, for he slew the Minotaur and was rescued from the labyrinth by following the thread of Ariadne, daughter of Minos, who had conceived a violent passion for the handsome warrior, conqueror of Centaurs and Amazons. Upon his return to Athens she accompanied him as far as the island Naxos, where the ungrateful wretch perfidiously left her. It is this scene of desertion which Haydn chose for his cantata.Ariadne is supposed to have just awakened from sleep and reclines upon a mossy bank. The firstnumber is a recitative and largo in which she hopefully calls upon Theseus to return. The melody is noble and spirited in style, and yet tender and fervent in its expression of love for the absent one. In the next number, a recitative and andante (“No one listens! My sad Words Echo but repeats”), hopefulness turns to anxiety. The contrast between the blissful longing of the one and the growing solicitude expressed in the other number is very striking. The next melody, anallegro vivace,—“What see I? O heavens! Unhappy me!Those are the sails of the Argosy! Greeks are those yonder!Theseus! ’Tis he stands at the prow,”—is remarkable for its passionate intensity and dramatic strength. The clouds of despair close over her, and she calls down the vengeance of the gods upon the deserter. In the next two numbers, an adagio (“To whom can I turn me?”), and an andante (“Ah! how for Death I am longing”), the melodies closely follow the sentiment of the text, accompanied by very expressive instrumentation. Anallegro presto, infused with the very spirit of hopeless gloom and despair, ends the cantata:—“Woe’s me! deceived, betrayed!Earth holds no consolation.”In the mythological version, however, consolation came; for Bacchus, “ever young,” and full of pity for lorn maids, married her, and gave her a crown of seven stars, which after her death was placed among the constellations. The music presents manydifficulties for a singer, as it requires the noblest style of declamation, peculiar refinement of sentiment, and rare musical intelligence, as well as facility in execution to give expression to its recitative and strongly contrasting melodies, which have no unity of key, but follow the varying sentiments, with their changes of tone-color, as closely as Theseus followed his thread.

The cantata “Ariana a Naxos” was written in 1792, and is for a single voice with orchestra. As an illustration of the original cantata form, it is one of the most striking and perfect. Its story is an episode familiar in mythology. When Minos, King of Crete, had vanquished the Athenians, he imposed upon Ægeus, their king, the severe penalty that seven youths should be annually sent to Crete to be devoured by the Minotaur. In the fourth year the king’s son, Theseus, was among the number. He was more fortunate than his predecessors, for he slew the Minotaur and was rescued from the labyrinth by following the thread of Ariadne, daughter of Minos, who had conceived a violent passion for the handsome warrior, conqueror of Centaurs and Amazons. Upon his return to Athens she accompanied him as far as the island Naxos, where the ungrateful wretch perfidiously left her. It is this scene of desertion which Haydn chose for his cantata.

Ariadne is supposed to have just awakened from sleep and reclines upon a mossy bank. The firstnumber is a recitative and largo in which she hopefully calls upon Theseus to return. The melody is noble and spirited in style, and yet tender and fervent in its expression of love for the absent one. In the next number, a recitative and andante (“No one listens! My sad Words Echo but repeats”), hopefulness turns to anxiety. The contrast between the blissful longing of the one and the growing solicitude expressed in the other number is very striking. The next melody, anallegro vivace,—

“What see I? O heavens! Unhappy me!Those are the sails of the Argosy! Greeks are those yonder!Theseus! ’Tis he stands at the prow,”—

“What see I? O heavens! Unhappy me!Those are the sails of the Argosy! Greeks are those yonder!Theseus! ’Tis he stands at the prow,”—

“What see I? O heavens! Unhappy me!

Those are the sails of the Argosy! Greeks are those yonder!

Theseus! ’Tis he stands at the prow,”—

is remarkable for its passionate intensity and dramatic strength. The clouds of despair close over her, and she calls down the vengeance of the gods upon the deserter. In the next two numbers, an adagio (“To whom can I turn me?”), and an andante (“Ah! how for Death I am longing”), the melodies closely follow the sentiment of the text, accompanied by very expressive instrumentation. Anallegro presto, infused with the very spirit of hopeless gloom and despair, ends the cantata:—

“Woe’s me! deceived, betrayed!Earth holds no consolation.”

“Woe’s me! deceived, betrayed!Earth holds no consolation.”

“Woe’s me! deceived, betrayed!

Earth holds no consolation.”

In the mythological version, however, consolation came; for Bacchus, “ever young,” and full of pity for lorn maids, married her, and gave her a crown of seven stars, which after her death was placed among the constellations. The music presents manydifficulties for a singer, as it requires the noblest style of declamation, peculiar refinement of sentiment, and rare musical intelligence, as well as facility in execution to give expression to its recitative and strongly contrasting melodies, which have no unity of key, but follow the varying sentiments, with their changes of tone-color, as closely as Theseus followed his thread.

HILLER.Ferdinand Hiller, one of the most eminent of modern German composers, and a writer of more than ordinary ability, was born at Frankfort-on-the-Main, Oct. 24, 1811. His musical talent displayed itself so early that in his tenth year he appeared in concerts. In 1825 he began his studies with Hummel, and two years afterwards accompanied him on a concert-tour to Vienna, where he published his first work, a piano-forte quartet. He next went to Paris, where he remained until 1835, occupying for a time the position of professor in Choron’s “Institution de Musique,” but principally devoting himself to piano-playing, composition, and concerts. In 1836 he returned to Frankfort, and for more than a year conducted the concerts of the Cœcilienverein. He then went to Milan, where he met Rossini, and with his assistance brought out his opera “Romilda” at La Scala, but without much success. About the same time he began his oratorio “The Destruction of Jerusalem,” one of his most important works. In 1841 he made a secondjourney to Italy and gave particular attention to church music. On his return he first resided at Frankfort, but was soon in Leipsic, where he conducted the Gewandhaus concerts (1843-44), and after that time in Dresden, where he produced two more operas, “Traum in der Christ-nacht” and “Conradin.” In 1847 he was appointed municipal capellmeister at Düsseldorf, and three years later took a similar position at Cologne, where he organized the Conservatory. In that city he exercised a widespread influence, not alone by his teaching, but also by his direction of the famous Lower Rhine festivals. He also made many musical tours which increased his fame. In 1852-53 he conducted opera in Paris; in 1870, gave a series of successful concerts in St. Petersburg; and in 1871-72 visited England, where he produced his works both in public concerts and festivals. His compositions are very numerous, including among the most prominent, five operas, four overtures, a festival march for the opening of the Albert Hall, the Spring Symphony, the oratorios “Destruction of Jerusalem” and “Saul,” and the cantatas “Heloise,” “Night,” “Loreley,” “O weint um Sie,” “Ver sacrum,” “Nala and Damajanti,” “Song of Victory,” “Song of the Spirits over the Water,” “Prometheus,” and “Rebecca.” He has also enriched musical literature with many important works, among them, “Aus dem Tonleben unserer Zeit” (1867), “Personalisches und Musikalisches” (1876), “Recollectionsof Mendelssohn” (1874), and “Letters to an Unknown” (1877). He died in May, 1885.

Ferdinand Hiller, one of the most eminent of modern German composers, and a writer of more than ordinary ability, was born at Frankfort-on-the-Main, Oct. 24, 1811. His musical talent displayed itself so early that in his tenth year he appeared in concerts. In 1825 he began his studies with Hummel, and two years afterwards accompanied him on a concert-tour to Vienna, where he published his first work, a piano-forte quartet. He next went to Paris, where he remained until 1835, occupying for a time the position of professor in Choron’s “Institution de Musique,” but principally devoting himself to piano-playing, composition, and concerts. In 1836 he returned to Frankfort, and for more than a year conducted the concerts of the Cœcilienverein. He then went to Milan, where he met Rossini, and with his assistance brought out his opera “Romilda” at La Scala, but without much success. About the same time he began his oratorio “The Destruction of Jerusalem,” one of his most important works. In 1841 he made a secondjourney to Italy and gave particular attention to church music. On his return he first resided at Frankfort, but was soon in Leipsic, where he conducted the Gewandhaus concerts (1843-44), and after that time in Dresden, where he produced two more operas, “Traum in der Christ-nacht” and “Conradin.” In 1847 he was appointed municipal capellmeister at Düsseldorf, and three years later took a similar position at Cologne, where he organized the Conservatory. In that city he exercised a widespread influence, not alone by his teaching, but also by his direction of the famous Lower Rhine festivals. He also made many musical tours which increased his fame. In 1852-53 he conducted opera in Paris; in 1870, gave a series of successful concerts in St. Petersburg; and in 1871-72 visited England, where he produced his works both in public concerts and festivals. His compositions are very numerous, including among the most prominent, five operas, four overtures, a festival march for the opening of the Albert Hall, the Spring Symphony, the oratorios “Destruction of Jerusalem” and “Saul,” and the cantatas “Heloise,” “Night,” “Loreley,” “O weint um Sie,” “Ver sacrum,” “Nala and Damajanti,” “Song of Victory,” “Song of the Spirits over the Water,” “Prometheus,” and “Rebecca.” He has also enriched musical literature with many important works, among them, “Aus dem Tonleben unserer Zeit” (1867), “Personalisches und Musikalisches” (1876), “Recollectionsof Mendelssohn” (1874), and “Letters to an Unknown” (1877). He died in May, 1885.

Song of Victory.The “Song of Victory,” a cantata for soprano solo, chorus, and orchestra, was first produced at the Cologne Festival of 1871, and was written to celebrate the victorious conclusion of the Franco-German war of 1870. It consists of eight numbers, all of which are sacred in character, though their purpose is to express gratitude and joy over the triumph of the German arms.The opening number is a vigorous, jubilant chorus (“The Lord great Wonders for us hath wrought”). It begins with a slow movement in massive chords, gathering animation as it proceeds, and closing pianissimo on the words, “There is none that searcheth or understandeth.” The second number is a soprano solo and chorus (“Praise, O Jerusalem, praise the Lord”) declamatory in style. The third (“The Heathen are fallen in the Pit”) is assigned to chorus, and is the most dramatic in the work, describing as it does the terrors of war. In the fourth (“See, it is written in the Book of the Righteous”), a short soprano solo, the melody is a tender lament for the dead. The fifth (“He in Tears that soweth”) is a soprano solo with chorus of first and second sopranos and altos. In this number lamentation gives way to hope and gladness, leading up to the last three numbers,—thesix-part chorus (“Mighty is our God”), full of effective sustained harmony, and the soprano solos and choruses of praise and hallelujah which resume the triumphant style of the opening chorus with increased power and enthusiasm.

The “Song of Victory,” a cantata for soprano solo, chorus, and orchestra, was first produced at the Cologne Festival of 1871, and was written to celebrate the victorious conclusion of the Franco-German war of 1870. It consists of eight numbers, all of which are sacred in character, though their purpose is to express gratitude and joy over the triumph of the German arms.

The opening number is a vigorous, jubilant chorus (“The Lord great Wonders for us hath wrought”). It begins with a slow movement in massive chords, gathering animation as it proceeds, and closing pianissimo on the words, “There is none that searcheth or understandeth.” The second number is a soprano solo and chorus (“Praise, O Jerusalem, praise the Lord”) declamatory in style. The third (“The Heathen are fallen in the Pit”) is assigned to chorus, and is the most dramatic in the work, describing as it does the terrors of war. In the fourth (“See, it is written in the Book of the Righteous”), a short soprano solo, the melody is a tender lament for the dead. The fifth (“He in Tears that soweth”) is a soprano solo with chorus of first and second sopranos and altos. In this number lamentation gives way to hope and gladness, leading up to the last three numbers,—thesix-part chorus (“Mighty is our God”), full of effective sustained harmony, and the soprano solos and choruses of praise and hallelujah which resume the triumphant style of the opening chorus with increased power and enthusiasm.

HOFMANN.Heinrich Karl Johann Hofmann was born Jan. 13, 1842, at Berlin. In his younger days he was a scholar at the Kullak Conservatory, and studied composition with Grell, Dehn, and Wüerst. Prior to 1873 he devoted himself to private instruction, but since that time he has been engaged exclusively in composition. Among his works which first attracted public attention by their intrinsic excellence as well as by the knowledge of orchestration which they displayed, were an “Hungarian Suite” and the “Frithjof Symphony.” Among his piano compositions are the following four-handed pieces, which have been remarkably popular: “Italienische Liebesnovelle,” “Liebesfrühling,” “Trompeter von Säckingen,” “Steppenbilder,” and “Aus meinem Tagebuch.” His choral works are “Nonnengesang,” “Die Schöne Melusine,” “Aschenbrödel,” and “Cinderella.” Among his operas are “Cartouche” (1869), “Armin” (1878), and “Annchen von Tharau” (1878). He has also written several works for mixed chorus andmännerchor, piano pieces, songs, duets, a violoncello concerto, piano trios and quartets, and a string sextet.

Heinrich Karl Johann Hofmann was born Jan. 13, 1842, at Berlin. In his younger days he was a scholar at the Kullak Conservatory, and studied composition with Grell, Dehn, and Wüerst. Prior to 1873 he devoted himself to private instruction, but since that time he has been engaged exclusively in composition. Among his works which first attracted public attention by their intrinsic excellence as well as by the knowledge of orchestration which they displayed, were an “Hungarian Suite” and the “Frithjof Symphony.” Among his piano compositions are the following four-handed pieces, which have been remarkably popular: “Italienische Liebesnovelle,” “Liebesfrühling,” “Trompeter von Säckingen,” “Steppenbilder,” and “Aus meinem Tagebuch.” His choral works are “Nonnengesang,” “Die Schöne Melusine,” “Aschenbrödel,” and “Cinderella.” Among his operas are “Cartouche” (1869), “Armin” (1878), and “Annchen von Tharau” (1878). He has also written several works for mixed chorus andmännerchor, piano pieces, songs, duets, a violoncello concerto, piano trios and quartets, and a string sextet.

Melusina.The beautiful story of Melusina has always had an attraction for artists and musicians. Moritz von Schwind, the painter, has illustrated it in a cycle of frescos; Julius Zellner has told it for us in a series of orchestral tone-pictures; and Mendelssohn has chosen it as the subject of one of his most charming overtures. The version which Hofmann uses in his cantata entitled “The Fable of the Fair Melusina” (written in 1875) runs as follows: Melusina, the nymph of a beautiful fountain in the Bressilian forest, and Count Raymond have fallen in love with each other. They declare their passion in the presence of her nymphs, and plight their troth. Melusina engages to be his dutiful wife the first six days of the week, but makes Raymond promise never to inquire or seek to discover what she does on the seventh, which, she assures him, shall “never see her stray from the path of duty.” On that day she must assume her original form, half fish and half woman, and bathe with her nymphs. Raymond promises, calls his hunters, introduces his bride to them, and the wedding cortège moves joyfully on to the castle. In the second part Raymond’s mother, Clotilda, and her brother, Sintram, intrigue against Melusina. They denounceher as a witch, and the accusation seems to be justified by a drought which has fallen upon the land since the marriage. The suffering people loudly clamor for the surrender of the “foul witch.” After long resistance Raymond is induced to break into the bathing-house which he had erected over the fountain. Melusina and her nymphs, surprised by him, call upon the king of the water-spirits to avenge his treason. The king appears and consigns him to death. Seized with pity, Melusina intercedes for him, and the king agrees to spare his life upon condition that they shall separate. Raymond once more embraces her, neither of them knowing that it will be fatal to him, dies in her arms, and the sorrowing Melusina returns to the flood.The prologue describes Melusina’s fountain, and contains a leading motive which characterizes Raymond. The chorus part is very romantic in its style, and is set to a graceful, poetical accompaniment. The opening number introduces Melusina and her nymphs in a chorus extolling their watery abode (“For the Flood is life-giving”). In the second number she describes the passion she feels when thinking of Raymond. The song is interrupted by horn signals indicating the approach of her lover and his hunters, who join in a fresh, vigorous hunting-song and then disperse. In the fourth number Raymond gives expression to his love for Melusina, followed by a fervid duet between them, in which the lovers interchange vows of constancy. The sixth number, describing their engagement in presence ofthe nymphs, and concluding with a stirring chorus of nymphs and hunters, closes the first part.The second part begins with a theme from the love-duet, followed by a significant theme in the minor, ominous of approaching danger. In the eighth number the people clamor in furious chorus for the witch. In the ninth, a trio and chorus, Clotilda warns her son of the misery he has brought upon his house and people, and urges him to discover what his wife does on the seventh day. The next number introduces Melusina and her nymphs in the bath, the former singing a plaintive song (“Love is freighted with Sorrow and Care”). A noise is heard at the gate, and the nymphs join in a chorus in canon form (“Hark! hark! Who has come to watch”). As Raymond appears, the scene grows very dramatic. The king of the water-spirits is summoned; but before he rises from the water Melusina, in very melodious recitative, laments her lover’s treason. The scene culminates in the sentence, “Let Death be his lot.” He is spared by her intercession, but she is commanded to return to the flood. Raymond appeals for forgiveness, and a part of the love-duet is repeated. The final embrace is fatal to him, and he dies in her arms. The chorus repeats the melody of the opening number (“For the Flood is life-giving”), and she bids her dead lover a last farewell, and disappears with the nymphs and water-spirits, singing, “Forget with the Dwellers on Earth all earthly Woe.” The epilogue is substantially the same as the prologue.

The beautiful story of Melusina has always had an attraction for artists and musicians. Moritz von Schwind, the painter, has illustrated it in a cycle of frescos; Julius Zellner has told it for us in a series of orchestral tone-pictures; and Mendelssohn has chosen it as the subject of one of his most charming overtures. The version which Hofmann uses in his cantata entitled “The Fable of the Fair Melusina” (written in 1875) runs as follows: Melusina, the nymph of a beautiful fountain in the Bressilian forest, and Count Raymond have fallen in love with each other. They declare their passion in the presence of her nymphs, and plight their troth. Melusina engages to be his dutiful wife the first six days of the week, but makes Raymond promise never to inquire or seek to discover what she does on the seventh, which, she assures him, shall “never see her stray from the path of duty.” On that day she must assume her original form, half fish and half woman, and bathe with her nymphs. Raymond promises, calls his hunters, introduces his bride to them, and the wedding cortège moves joyfully on to the castle. In the second part Raymond’s mother, Clotilda, and her brother, Sintram, intrigue against Melusina. They denounceher as a witch, and the accusation seems to be justified by a drought which has fallen upon the land since the marriage. The suffering people loudly clamor for the surrender of the “foul witch.” After long resistance Raymond is induced to break into the bathing-house which he had erected over the fountain. Melusina and her nymphs, surprised by him, call upon the king of the water-spirits to avenge his treason. The king appears and consigns him to death. Seized with pity, Melusina intercedes for him, and the king agrees to spare his life upon condition that they shall separate. Raymond once more embraces her, neither of them knowing that it will be fatal to him, dies in her arms, and the sorrowing Melusina returns to the flood.

The prologue describes Melusina’s fountain, and contains a leading motive which characterizes Raymond. The chorus part is very romantic in its style, and is set to a graceful, poetical accompaniment. The opening number introduces Melusina and her nymphs in a chorus extolling their watery abode (“For the Flood is life-giving”). In the second number she describes the passion she feels when thinking of Raymond. The song is interrupted by horn signals indicating the approach of her lover and his hunters, who join in a fresh, vigorous hunting-song and then disperse. In the fourth number Raymond gives expression to his love for Melusina, followed by a fervid duet between them, in which the lovers interchange vows of constancy. The sixth number, describing their engagement in presence ofthe nymphs, and concluding with a stirring chorus of nymphs and hunters, closes the first part.

The second part begins with a theme from the love-duet, followed by a significant theme in the minor, ominous of approaching danger. In the eighth number the people clamor in furious chorus for the witch. In the ninth, a trio and chorus, Clotilda warns her son of the misery he has brought upon his house and people, and urges him to discover what his wife does on the seventh day. The next number introduces Melusina and her nymphs in the bath, the former singing a plaintive song (“Love is freighted with Sorrow and Care”). A noise is heard at the gate, and the nymphs join in a chorus in canon form (“Hark! hark! Who has come to watch”). As Raymond appears, the scene grows very dramatic. The king of the water-spirits is summoned; but before he rises from the water Melusina, in very melodious recitative, laments her lover’s treason. The scene culminates in the sentence, “Let Death be his lot.” He is spared by her intercession, but she is commanded to return to the flood. Raymond appeals for forgiveness, and a part of the love-duet is repeated. The final embrace is fatal to him, and he dies in her arms. The chorus repeats the melody of the opening number (“For the Flood is life-giving”), and she bids her dead lover a last farewell, and disappears with the nymphs and water-spirits, singing, “Forget with the Dwellers on Earth all earthly Woe.” The epilogue is substantially the same as the prologue.

LESLIE.Henry David Leslie was born in London, June 18, 1822, and in his sixteenth year began his musical studies with Charles Lucas, a famous violoncellist and for a long time principal of the Royal Academy of Music. Like his master, Leslie played the violoncello several years in the concerts of the Sacred Harmonic Society, subsequently becoming its conductor,—a position which he held until 1861. In 1855 he organized the famous Leslie choir of one hundred voices, which took the first prize at the international competition of 1878 in Paris. In 1863 he was chosen conductor of the Herefordshire Philharmonic Society, and in the following year became principal of the National College of Music. In 1874 he was appointed conductor of the Guild of Amateur Musicians in London. He has been a prolific and very popular composer, among his works being the following: Te Deum and Jubilate in D (1846); symphony in F (1847); anthem, “Let God arise” (1849); overture, “The Templar” (1852); oratorio, “Immanuel”(1853); operetta, “Romance, or Bold Dick Turpin” (1857); oratorio, “Judith,” written for the Birmingham Festival (1858); cantata, “Holyrood” (1860); cantata, “The Daughter of the Isles” (1861); and the opera “Ida” (1864). In addition to these he has written a large number of songs, anthems, part songs, madrigals, and piano pieces, besides music for his choir.

Henry David Leslie was born in London, June 18, 1822, and in his sixteenth year began his musical studies with Charles Lucas, a famous violoncellist and for a long time principal of the Royal Academy of Music. Like his master, Leslie played the violoncello several years in the concerts of the Sacred Harmonic Society, subsequently becoming its conductor,—a position which he held until 1861. In 1855 he organized the famous Leslie choir of one hundred voices, which took the first prize at the international competition of 1878 in Paris. In 1863 he was chosen conductor of the Herefordshire Philharmonic Society, and in the following year became principal of the National College of Music. In 1874 he was appointed conductor of the Guild of Amateur Musicians in London. He has been a prolific and very popular composer, among his works being the following: Te Deum and Jubilate in D (1846); symphony in F (1847); anthem, “Let God arise” (1849); overture, “The Templar” (1852); oratorio, “Immanuel”(1853); operetta, “Romance, or Bold Dick Turpin” (1857); oratorio, “Judith,” written for the Birmingham Festival (1858); cantata, “Holyrood” (1860); cantata, “The Daughter of the Isles” (1861); and the opera “Ida” (1864). In addition to these he has written a large number of songs, anthems, part songs, madrigals, and piano pieces, besides music for his choir.

Holyrood.“Holyrood” was written in 1861, and was first produced in February of that year at St. James’s Hall, London. Leslie’s collaborator was the accomplished scholar Chorley, who has certainly prepared one of the most refined and attractive librettos ever furnished a composer. The story represents an episode during the period of Queen Mary’s innocent life, overshadowed in the close by the dismal prophecy of the terrible fate so rapidly approaching her. The characters are Queen Mary (soprano), Mary Beatoun (Beton), her maid of honor (contralto); Rizzio, the ill-fated minstrel (tenor); and John Knox (bass). The scene is laid in a court of the palace of Holyrood, and introduces a coterie of the court ladies and gentlemen engaged in one of those joyous revels of which Mary was so fond. In the midst of the pleasantry, however, the Queen moves pensively about, overcome with sadness, as if her thoughts were far away. Her favorite maid tries in vain to rouse her from her melancholy witha Scotch ballad. The minstrel Rizzio is then urged to try his skill. He takes his lute and sings an Italian canzonet which has the desired effect. The sensuous music of the South diverts her. She expresses her delight, and seizing his lute sings her new joy in a French romance. It is interrupted by a Puritan psalm of warning heard outside. The revellers seek to drown it; but it grows in power, and only ceases when the leader, John Knox, enters with stern and forbidding countenance. The Queen is angry at first, but bids him welcome provided his mission is a kindly one. He answers with a warning. As he has the gift of prophecy, she orders him to read her future. After the bridal, the murder of the bridegroom; after the murder, battle; after the battle, prison; after the prison, the scaffold, is the tragic fate he foresees. The enraged courtiers call for his arrest and punishment, but the light-hearted Queen bids him go free:—“Let him go, and hear our laughter!Mirth to-day, whate’er come after.”The cantata opens with a chorus for female voices in three divisions, with a contralto solo, in the Scotch style:—“The mavis carols in the shaw,The leaves are green on every tree,And June, whose car the sunbeams draw,Is dropping gold on bank and lea;The hind is merry in the mead,The child that gathers gowan flower,The Thane upon his prancing steed,The high-born lady in her bower,—Gay, gay, all are gay,On this happy summer day.”After a short recitative passage in which Mary Beatoun appeals to the revellers to lure the Queen from her loneliness, and their reply (“O Lady, never sit alone”), the maid sings a very characteristic and engaging Scotch ballad:—“There once was a maiden in Melrose town(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)Who looked on the best in the country down,Because she had lovers, one, two, three.The first was a lord with his chest of gold,The second a ruddy shepherd so tall,The third was a spearsman bluff and bold,—But Pride, it goeth before a fall.“One hour she smilèd, the next she wept(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)And with frowns and blushes a chain she keptRound the necks of her hapless lovers three.For the lord in her lap poured wide his gold,And the shepherd ran at her beck and call,And the spearsman swore she was curst and cold,But Pride, it goeth before a fall.“At last it fell out on a bleak March day(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)There sate at her window the maiden gayAnd looked o’er the frost for her lovers three.But the lord had to France sailed forth with his gold,And the shepherd had married her playmate small,And the spearsman in battle lay stark and cold,—So Pride, it goeth before a fall.”As might have been expected, this mournful ditty fails to rouse the Queen from her melancholy, whereupon Rizzio takes his lute and sings the canzonet “Calla stagion novella,” a very slow and graceful movement, closing with a sensuous allegro,written in the genuine Italian style, though rather Verdi-ish for the times of Rizzio. The canzonet has the desired effect, and is followed by a delightful French romance, sung by the Queen, in which a tender minor theme is set off against a fascinating waltz melody, closing with a brilliant finale:—“In my pleasant land of FranceThere is gladness everywhere;In the very streams a dance,Full of life, yet debonair,Ah, me! ah, me!To have left it was a sin,Even for this kind countrie.But we will not mourn to-day,Bid the harp and rebec play,Merrilie, merrilie,Sing and smile, and jocund be;If my father’s land is dear,Mirth and valor still are here;Maidens faithful, champions gay,France has melted far awayBeyond the sea.”At the close of the pretty romance, the revel begins with a stately minuet and vocal trio (“Fal, lal, la”) for the Queen, Mary Beatoun, and Rizzio. It is interrupted by the unison psalm-tune of the Puritans, a stern, severe old melody set to a “moving bass” accompaniment:—“O thou who sittest on the throneAnd wilt exalt thine horn on high,While captive men in prison groan,And women poor of hunger die,Beware! albeit a Haman proud,Served by thy slaves on bended knee,The heaven can speak in thunder loudAnd rend to dust both them and thee.”There is a temporary pause in the revels, but at the Queen’s command they are resumed with a quick-step introduced by the pipes and full of the genuine Scotch spirit and bustle, the “Fal lal” trio and chorus still accompanying it. It is interrupted afresh by a repetition of the psalm (“A Hand of Fire was on the Wall”), after which John Knox enters. With his entrance the gay music closes and the work assumes a gloomy tragic cast as the dialogue proceeds and the terrible incidents of the prophecy are unfolded. It is a relief when they join in a hopeful duet (“E’en if Earth should wholly fail me”) which is very quiet and melodious. It leads to the Queen’s farewell, a quaintly-written bit, with an old-fashioned cadenza, followed by the final chorus, which takes up a theme in the same joyous spirit as the opening one:—“Hence with evil omen,Doleful bird of night,Who in tears of womenTakest chief delight!Think not to alarm her,As with mystic power;Nought shall ever harm her,Scotland’s lily flower.”

“Holyrood” was written in 1861, and was first produced in February of that year at St. James’s Hall, London. Leslie’s collaborator was the accomplished scholar Chorley, who has certainly prepared one of the most refined and attractive librettos ever furnished a composer. The story represents an episode during the period of Queen Mary’s innocent life, overshadowed in the close by the dismal prophecy of the terrible fate so rapidly approaching her. The characters are Queen Mary (soprano), Mary Beatoun (Beton), her maid of honor (contralto); Rizzio, the ill-fated minstrel (tenor); and John Knox (bass). The scene is laid in a court of the palace of Holyrood, and introduces a coterie of the court ladies and gentlemen engaged in one of those joyous revels of which Mary was so fond. In the midst of the pleasantry, however, the Queen moves pensively about, overcome with sadness, as if her thoughts were far away. Her favorite maid tries in vain to rouse her from her melancholy witha Scotch ballad. The minstrel Rizzio is then urged to try his skill. He takes his lute and sings an Italian canzonet which has the desired effect. The sensuous music of the South diverts her. She expresses her delight, and seizing his lute sings her new joy in a French romance. It is interrupted by a Puritan psalm of warning heard outside. The revellers seek to drown it; but it grows in power, and only ceases when the leader, John Knox, enters with stern and forbidding countenance. The Queen is angry at first, but bids him welcome provided his mission is a kindly one. He answers with a warning. As he has the gift of prophecy, she orders him to read her future. After the bridal, the murder of the bridegroom; after the murder, battle; after the battle, prison; after the prison, the scaffold, is the tragic fate he foresees. The enraged courtiers call for his arrest and punishment, but the light-hearted Queen bids him go free:—

“Let him go, and hear our laughter!Mirth to-day, whate’er come after.”

“Let him go, and hear our laughter!Mirth to-day, whate’er come after.”

“Let him go, and hear our laughter!

Mirth to-day, whate’er come after.”

The cantata opens with a chorus for female voices in three divisions, with a contralto solo, in the Scotch style:—

“The mavis carols in the shaw,The leaves are green on every tree,And June, whose car the sunbeams draw,Is dropping gold on bank and lea;The hind is merry in the mead,The child that gathers gowan flower,The Thane upon his prancing steed,The high-born lady in her bower,—Gay, gay, all are gay,On this happy summer day.”

“The mavis carols in the shaw,The leaves are green on every tree,And June, whose car the sunbeams draw,Is dropping gold on bank and lea;The hind is merry in the mead,The child that gathers gowan flower,The Thane upon his prancing steed,The high-born lady in her bower,—Gay, gay, all are gay,On this happy summer day.”

“The mavis carols in the shaw,

The leaves are green on every tree,

And June, whose car the sunbeams draw,

Is dropping gold on bank and lea;

The hind is merry in the mead,

The child that gathers gowan flower,

The Thane upon his prancing steed,

The high-born lady in her bower,—

Gay, gay, all are gay,

On this happy summer day.”

After a short recitative passage in which Mary Beatoun appeals to the revellers to lure the Queen from her loneliness, and their reply (“O Lady, never sit alone”), the maid sings a very characteristic and engaging Scotch ballad:—

“There once was a maiden in Melrose town(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)Who looked on the best in the country down,Because she had lovers, one, two, three.The first was a lord with his chest of gold,The second a ruddy shepherd so tall,The third was a spearsman bluff and bold,—But Pride, it goeth before a fall.“One hour she smilèd, the next she wept(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)And with frowns and blushes a chain she keptRound the necks of her hapless lovers three.For the lord in her lap poured wide his gold,And the shepherd ran at her beck and call,And the spearsman swore she was curst and cold,But Pride, it goeth before a fall.“At last it fell out on a bleak March day(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)There sate at her window the maiden gayAnd looked o’er the frost for her lovers three.But the lord had to France sailed forth with his gold,And the shepherd had married her playmate small,And the spearsman in battle lay stark and cold,—So Pride, it goeth before a fall.”

“There once was a maiden in Melrose town(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)Who looked on the best in the country down,Because she had lovers, one, two, three.The first was a lord with his chest of gold,The second a ruddy shepherd so tall,The third was a spearsman bluff and bold,—But Pride, it goeth before a fall.

“There once was a maiden in Melrose town

(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)

Who looked on the best in the country down,

Because she had lovers, one, two, three.

The first was a lord with his chest of gold,

The second a ruddy shepherd so tall,

The third was a spearsman bluff and bold,—

But Pride, it goeth before a fall.

“One hour she smilèd, the next she wept(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)And with frowns and blushes a chain she keptRound the necks of her hapless lovers three.For the lord in her lap poured wide his gold,And the shepherd ran at her beck and call,And the spearsman swore she was curst and cold,But Pride, it goeth before a fall.

“One hour she smilèd, the next she wept

(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)

And with frowns and blushes a chain she kept

Round the necks of her hapless lovers three.

For the lord in her lap poured wide his gold,

And the shepherd ran at her beck and call,

And the spearsman swore she was curst and cold,

But Pride, it goeth before a fall.

“At last it fell out on a bleak March day(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)There sate at her window the maiden gayAnd looked o’er the frost for her lovers three.But the lord had to France sailed forth with his gold,And the shepherd had married her playmate small,And the spearsman in battle lay stark and cold,—So Pride, it goeth before a fall.”

“At last it fell out on a bleak March day

(Oh! the bright Tweed is bonny to see!)

There sate at her window the maiden gay

And looked o’er the frost for her lovers three.

But the lord had to France sailed forth with his gold,

And the shepherd had married her playmate small,

And the spearsman in battle lay stark and cold,—

So Pride, it goeth before a fall.”

As might have been expected, this mournful ditty fails to rouse the Queen from her melancholy, whereupon Rizzio takes his lute and sings the canzonet “Calla stagion novella,” a very slow and graceful movement, closing with a sensuous allegro,written in the genuine Italian style, though rather Verdi-ish for the times of Rizzio. The canzonet has the desired effect, and is followed by a delightful French romance, sung by the Queen, in which a tender minor theme is set off against a fascinating waltz melody, closing with a brilliant finale:—

“In my pleasant land of FranceThere is gladness everywhere;In the very streams a dance,Full of life, yet debonair,Ah, me! ah, me!To have left it was a sin,Even for this kind countrie.But we will not mourn to-day,Bid the harp and rebec play,Merrilie, merrilie,Sing and smile, and jocund be;If my father’s land is dear,Mirth and valor still are here;Maidens faithful, champions gay,France has melted far awayBeyond the sea.”

“In my pleasant land of FranceThere is gladness everywhere;In the very streams a dance,Full of life, yet debonair,Ah, me! ah, me!To have left it was a sin,Even for this kind countrie.But we will not mourn to-day,Bid the harp and rebec play,Merrilie, merrilie,Sing and smile, and jocund be;If my father’s land is dear,Mirth and valor still are here;Maidens faithful, champions gay,France has melted far awayBeyond the sea.”

“In my pleasant land of France

There is gladness everywhere;

In the very streams a dance,

Full of life, yet debonair,

Ah, me! ah, me!

To have left it was a sin,

Even for this kind countrie.

But we will not mourn to-day,

Bid the harp and rebec play,

Merrilie, merrilie,

Sing and smile, and jocund be;

If my father’s land is dear,

Mirth and valor still are here;

Maidens faithful, champions gay,

France has melted far away

Beyond the sea.”

At the close of the pretty romance, the revel begins with a stately minuet and vocal trio (“Fal, lal, la”) for the Queen, Mary Beatoun, and Rizzio. It is interrupted by the unison psalm-tune of the Puritans, a stern, severe old melody set to a “moving bass” accompaniment:—

“O thou who sittest on the throneAnd wilt exalt thine horn on high,While captive men in prison groan,And women poor of hunger die,Beware! albeit a Haman proud,Served by thy slaves on bended knee,The heaven can speak in thunder loudAnd rend to dust both them and thee.”

“O thou who sittest on the throneAnd wilt exalt thine horn on high,While captive men in prison groan,And women poor of hunger die,Beware! albeit a Haman proud,Served by thy slaves on bended knee,The heaven can speak in thunder loudAnd rend to dust both them and thee.”

“O thou who sittest on the throne

And wilt exalt thine horn on high,

While captive men in prison groan,

And women poor of hunger die,

Beware! albeit a Haman proud,

Served by thy slaves on bended knee,

The heaven can speak in thunder loud

And rend to dust both them and thee.”

There is a temporary pause in the revels, but at the Queen’s command they are resumed with a quick-step introduced by the pipes and full of the genuine Scotch spirit and bustle, the “Fal lal” trio and chorus still accompanying it. It is interrupted afresh by a repetition of the psalm (“A Hand of Fire was on the Wall”), after which John Knox enters. With his entrance the gay music closes and the work assumes a gloomy tragic cast as the dialogue proceeds and the terrible incidents of the prophecy are unfolded. It is a relief when they join in a hopeful duet (“E’en if Earth should wholly fail me”) which is very quiet and melodious. It leads to the Queen’s farewell, a quaintly-written bit, with an old-fashioned cadenza, followed by the final chorus, which takes up a theme in the same joyous spirit as the opening one:—

“Hence with evil omen,Doleful bird of night,Who in tears of womenTakest chief delight!Think not to alarm her,As with mystic power;Nought shall ever harm her,Scotland’s lily flower.”

“Hence with evil omen,Doleful bird of night,Who in tears of womenTakest chief delight!Think not to alarm her,As with mystic power;Nought shall ever harm her,Scotland’s lily flower.”

“Hence with evil omen,

Doleful bird of night,

Who in tears of women

Takest chief delight!

Think not to alarm her,

As with mystic power;

Nought shall ever harm her,

Scotland’s lily flower.”

LISZT.Franz Liszt, the most eminent pianist of his time, who also obtained world-wide celebrity as a composer and orchestral conductor, was born at Raiding, Hungary, Oct. 22, 1811. His father was an accomplished amateur, and played the piano and violoncello with more than ordinary skill. He was so impressed with the promise of his son that he not only gave him lessons in music, but also devoted himself to his artistic progress with the utmost assiduity. In his ninth year Liszt played for the first time in public at Oedenburg. His performances aroused such enthusiasm that several Hungarian noblemen encouraged him to continue his studies, and guaranteed him sufficient to defray the expenses of six years’ tuition. He went to Vienna at once and studied the piano with Czerny, besides taking lessons in composition of Salieri and Randhartinger. It was while in that city that his first composition, a variation on a waltz of Diabelli, appeared. In 1823 he went to Paris, hoping to secure permission to enter the Conservatory; but Cherubini refused it onaccount of his foreign origin, though Cherubini himself was a foreigner. Nothing daunted, young Liszt continued his studies with Reicha and Paer, and two years afterwards brought out a two-act opera entitled “Don Sancho,” which met with a very cordial reception. The slight he received from Cherubini aroused popular sympathy for him. His wonderful playing attracted universal attention and gained him admission into the most brilliant Parisian salons. He was a favorite with every one, especially with the ladies. For two or three years he made artistic tours through France, Switzerland, and England, accompanied by his father, and everywhere met with the most brilliant success. In 1827 the father died, leaving him alone in the world; but good fortune was on his side. During his stay in Paris he had made the friendship of Victor Hugo, George Sand, Lamartine, and other great lights in literature and music, and their influence prepared the way for his permanent success. From 1839 to 1847 he travelled from one city to another, arousing the most extraordinary enthusiasm; his progress was one continued ovation. In 1849 he went to Weimar and accepted the post of conductor at the Court Theatre. He made that city the musical centre of Europe. It was there that his greatest compositions were written, that the school of the music of the future was founded, and that Wagner’s operas first gained an unprejudiced hearing; and it is from Weimar that his distinguished pupils, like Von Bülow, Tausig, Bendel, Bronsart, Klindworth, Winterberger,Reubke, and many others date their success. In 1859 he resigned his position and after that time resided at Rome, Pesth, and Weimar, working for the best interest of his beloved art, and encouraging young musicians to reach the highest standards. Few men of this century have had such a powerful influence upon music, or have done so much to elevate and purify it. His most important works were the “Divina Commedia” and “Faust” symphonies, the twelve symphonic poems, the six Hungarian rhapsodies, the “Graner Mass,” the “Hungarian Coronation Mass,” and the oratorios “Christus” and “The Legend of the Holy Elizabeth.” Besides these he wrote a large number of orchestral pieces, songs, and cantatas, and a rich and varied collection of piano-forte solos, transcriptions, and arrangements. He died July 31, 1886.

Franz Liszt, the most eminent pianist of his time, who also obtained world-wide celebrity as a composer and orchestral conductor, was born at Raiding, Hungary, Oct. 22, 1811. His father was an accomplished amateur, and played the piano and violoncello with more than ordinary skill. He was so impressed with the promise of his son that he not only gave him lessons in music, but also devoted himself to his artistic progress with the utmost assiduity. In his ninth year Liszt played for the first time in public at Oedenburg. His performances aroused such enthusiasm that several Hungarian noblemen encouraged him to continue his studies, and guaranteed him sufficient to defray the expenses of six years’ tuition. He went to Vienna at once and studied the piano with Czerny, besides taking lessons in composition of Salieri and Randhartinger. It was while in that city that his first composition, a variation on a waltz of Diabelli, appeared. In 1823 he went to Paris, hoping to secure permission to enter the Conservatory; but Cherubini refused it onaccount of his foreign origin, though Cherubini himself was a foreigner. Nothing daunted, young Liszt continued his studies with Reicha and Paer, and two years afterwards brought out a two-act opera entitled “Don Sancho,” which met with a very cordial reception. The slight he received from Cherubini aroused popular sympathy for him. His wonderful playing attracted universal attention and gained him admission into the most brilliant Parisian salons. He was a favorite with every one, especially with the ladies. For two or three years he made artistic tours through France, Switzerland, and England, accompanied by his father, and everywhere met with the most brilliant success. In 1827 the father died, leaving him alone in the world; but good fortune was on his side. During his stay in Paris he had made the friendship of Victor Hugo, George Sand, Lamartine, and other great lights in literature and music, and their influence prepared the way for his permanent success. From 1839 to 1847 he travelled from one city to another, arousing the most extraordinary enthusiasm; his progress was one continued ovation. In 1849 he went to Weimar and accepted the post of conductor at the Court Theatre. He made that city the musical centre of Europe. It was there that his greatest compositions were written, that the school of the music of the future was founded, and that Wagner’s operas first gained an unprejudiced hearing; and it is from Weimar that his distinguished pupils, like Von Bülow, Tausig, Bendel, Bronsart, Klindworth, Winterberger,Reubke, and many others date their success. In 1859 he resigned his position and after that time resided at Rome, Pesth, and Weimar, working for the best interest of his beloved art, and encouraging young musicians to reach the highest standards. Few men of this century have had such a powerful influence upon music, or have done so much to elevate and purify it. His most important works were the “Divina Commedia” and “Faust” symphonies, the twelve symphonic poems, the six Hungarian rhapsodies, the “Graner Mass,” the “Hungarian Coronation Mass,” and the oratorios “Christus” and “The Legend of the Holy Elizabeth.” Besides these he wrote a large number of orchestral pieces, songs, and cantatas, and a rich and varied collection of piano-forte solos, transcriptions, and arrangements. He died July 31, 1886.

Prometheus.Liszt’s cantata “Prometheus,” composed in 1850, is based upon the poem of the same name, written by Johann Gottfried von Herder, the court preacher of Weimar. The poem closely follows the well-known legend of Prometheus’ punishment for stealing fire from heaven, and his ultimate rescue by Hercules from the vulture which preyed upon his vitals. The poet pictures the victim in the midst of his sufferings, consoled by the knowledgethat he has been a benefactor to the human race. The spirits of the ocean mock and menace him, but the harvesters and tillers of the soil praise him for the bounteous gifts he has given to the earth. Ceres and Bacchus, protectors of the soil and its products, also pay their tribute of sympathy to him and thank him for the blessing of fire. Hercules at last releases him from his torture by killing the vulture and breaking the chains which bind him to his rock. The sufferer is brought before Themis, who announces that the divine wrath has been appeased by his long punishment, and that the gods forgive him.In building up his cantata Liszt has introduced several prologues from the poem without music, which serve as narrators explaining the situations, linking and leading up to the musical numbers, which are mainly choral. Thus the opening prologue pictures the sufferings of Prometheus, the crime for which he is forced to endure such a terrible penalty, and the patience, hope, and heroism of the victim. The closing lines,—“Now through the hush of night burst well-known voicesUpon his ear. From out the slumbering ocean,Fanning his cheek with breath of the sea waves,The daughters of Oceanus approach,”—introduce the opening chorus of sea-nymphs (“Prometheus, Woe to thee”), for female voices, arranged in double parts, and set to a restless, agitated accompaniment, expressive of fear and despair. The second prologue, reciting the wrathof Oceanus “on his swift-winged ocean steed,” that mortals should have dared to vex his peaceful waters, and the reply of Prometheus that “on the broad earth each place is free to all,” introduces the choruses of Tritons and Oceanides. The first is a mixed chorus full of brightness and spirit (“Freedom! afar from Land upon the open Sea”). Their exultant song is followed by a fascinating melody (“Hail! O Prometheus, hail!”) for female chorus, with short but expressive solos for soprano and alto (“When to our Waters the golden Time shall come”), the number closing with double chorus in full rich harmony (“Holy and grand and free is the Gift of Heaven”). Thereupon follows the third prologue:—“Scarcely has ceased the Ocean’s song of joy,Which, breathing peace unto Prometheus’ soul,Wakens within his breast long-buried hope,When once again the sound of lamentationBursts on his ear and fills the air with sighs.Seated within a lion-drawn chariot comesThe founder of his race—Gæa herself—With her a train of wood-nymphs, loudly weeping.”It introduces a chorus of Dryads (“Woe to thee, Prometheus”) of the same general character as the opening chorus of sea-nymphs, and containing a very dramatic and declamatory alto solo (“Deserted stand God’s sacred Altars in the old Forest”). A dialogue follows between Gæa and Prometheus, in which the latter bravely defends his course. As the Dryads disappear, Prometheus soliloquizes:—“‘This is, in truth, the noblest deedMortal has ever dared. Beat high, my heart!On this foundation built I up my race,—On deathless friendship and fraternity.Courage, Alcides! Bravely fight thy fight.Conquer, and thou shalt free me.’ From his dreams,Roused is the Titan by a song of joy.Before him, crowned with the rich harvest, standsCeres with her train of reapers.”A mixed chorus of gleaners follows (“With the Lark sweetly singing”), which can hardly be excelled for grace and loveliness of melody. In the next prologue Ceres consoles Prometheus, and while she is speaking a shout of gladness rises and Bacchus appears. He smites the rock, and at his touch a bower of grape-vines and ivy boughs interlaces over the head of the Titan and shadows him. This serves to introduce the chorus of Vine-dressers (“Hail to the Pleasure-giver”), a lively strain for male voices with an effective solo quartet. As Prometheus resumes his soliloquy, Hermes approaches, leading Pandora, and seeks to allure him from his purpose by her enchantments, but in vain:—“The Titan conquers, and he feels the hour—The fated hour—draw near. Above his headThe vulture hovers, fearing to approach;While the earth trembles, and the rocks are shaken.Voices are heard from out the gloomy depths.”The voices are those of the spirits in the lower regions singing a very melodramatic chorus (“Woe! woe! the sacred Sleep of the Dead has been disturbed”).Anallegro moderatofor orchestra follows, preluding the approach of Hercules, who bends his giant bow and kills the vulture, strikes the fetters off and bids him “Go hence unto thy Mother’s Throne.” The scene introduces the seventh number (“All human Foresight wanders in deepest Night”), an expressive and stately male chorus with solo quartet. The last prologue describes the scene at the throne of Themis, the pardon of Prometheus, and her assurance that “Henceforth Olympus smiles upon the Earth.” Pallas presents him with a veiled figure as the reward of his heroism, “who will bring to thy race the richest blessing,—Truth.” The goddess unveils her and declares her name “Agathea. She brings to man the purest, holiest gift,—Charity.” The closing chorus of the Muses follows:—“Of all bright thoughts that bloom on earth,That raise poor mortals high as heaven,The holiest, the blessedest is Charity.Hail, Prometheus! Hail to mankind!”

Liszt’s cantata “Prometheus,” composed in 1850, is based upon the poem of the same name, written by Johann Gottfried von Herder, the court preacher of Weimar. The poem closely follows the well-known legend of Prometheus’ punishment for stealing fire from heaven, and his ultimate rescue by Hercules from the vulture which preyed upon his vitals. The poet pictures the victim in the midst of his sufferings, consoled by the knowledgethat he has been a benefactor to the human race. The spirits of the ocean mock and menace him, but the harvesters and tillers of the soil praise him for the bounteous gifts he has given to the earth. Ceres and Bacchus, protectors of the soil and its products, also pay their tribute of sympathy to him and thank him for the blessing of fire. Hercules at last releases him from his torture by killing the vulture and breaking the chains which bind him to his rock. The sufferer is brought before Themis, who announces that the divine wrath has been appeased by his long punishment, and that the gods forgive him.

In building up his cantata Liszt has introduced several prologues from the poem without music, which serve as narrators explaining the situations, linking and leading up to the musical numbers, which are mainly choral. Thus the opening prologue pictures the sufferings of Prometheus, the crime for which he is forced to endure such a terrible penalty, and the patience, hope, and heroism of the victim. The closing lines,—

“Now through the hush of night burst well-known voicesUpon his ear. From out the slumbering ocean,Fanning his cheek with breath of the sea waves,The daughters of Oceanus approach,”—

“Now through the hush of night burst well-known voicesUpon his ear. From out the slumbering ocean,Fanning his cheek with breath of the sea waves,The daughters of Oceanus approach,”—

“Now through the hush of night burst well-known voices

Upon his ear. From out the slumbering ocean,

Fanning his cheek with breath of the sea waves,

The daughters of Oceanus approach,”—

introduce the opening chorus of sea-nymphs (“Prometheus, Woe to thee”), for female voices, arranged in double parts, and set to a restless, agitated accompaniment, expressive of fear and despair. The second prologue, reciting the wrathof Oceanus “on his swift-winged ocean steed,” that mortals should have dared to vex his peaceful waters, and the reply of Prometheus that “on the broad earth each place is free to all,” introduces the choruses of Tritons and Oceanides. The first is a mixed chorus full of brightness and spirit (“Freedom! afar from Land upon the open Sea”). Their exultant song is followed by a fascinating melody (“Hail! O Prometheus, hail!”) for female chorus, with short but expressive solos for soprano and alto (“When to our Waters the golden Time shall come”), the number closing with double chorus in full rich harmony (“Holy and grand and free is the Gift of Heaven”). Thereupon follows the third prologue:—

“Scarcely has ceased the Ocean’s song of joy,Which, breathing peace unto Prometheus’ soul,Wakens within his breast long-buried hope,When once again the sound of lamentationBursts on his ear and fills the air with sighs.Seated within a lion-drawn chariot comesThe founder of his race—Gæa herself—With her a train of wood-nymphs, loudly weeping.”

“Scarcely has ceased the Ocean’s song of joy,Which, breathing peace unto Prometheus’ soul,Wakens within his breast long-buried hope,When once again the sound of lamentationBursts on his ear and fills the air with sighs.Seated within a lion-drawn chariot comesThe founder of his race—Gæa herself—With her a train of wood-nymphs, loudly weeping.”

“Scarcely has ceased the Ocean’s song of joy,

Which, breathing peace unto Prometheus’ soul,

Wakens within his breast long-buried hope,

When once again the sound of lamentation

Bursts on his ear and fills the air with sighs.

Seated within a lion-drawn chariot comes

The founder of his race—Gæa herself—

With her a train of wood-nymphs, loudly weeping.”

It introduces a chorus of Dryads (“Woe to thee, Prometheus”) of the same general character as the opening chorus of sea-nymphs, and containing a very dramatic and declamatory alto solo (“Deserted stand God’s sacred Altars in the old Forest”). A dialogue follows between Gæa and Prometheus, in which the latter bravely defends his course. As the Dryads disappear, Prometheus soliloquizes:—

“‘This is, in truth, the noblest deedMortal has ever dared. Beat high, my heart!On this foundation built I up my race,—On deathless friendship and fraternity.Courage, Alcides! Bravely fight thy fight.Conquer, and thou shalt free me.’ From his dreams,Roused is the Titan by a song of joy.Before him, crowned with the rich harvest, standsCeres with her train of reapers.”

“‘This is, in truth, the noblest deedMortal has ever dared. Beat high, my heart!On this foundation built I up my race,—On deathless friendship and fraternity.Courage, Alcides! Bravely fight thy fight.Conquer, and thou shalt free me.’ From his dreams,Roused is the Titan by a song of joy.Before him, crowned with the rich harvest, standsCeres with her train of reapers.”

“‘This is, in truth, the noblest deed

Mortal has ever dared. Beat high, my heart!

On this foundation built I up my race,—

On deathless friendship and fraternity.

Courage, Alcides! Bravely fight thy fight.

Conquer, and thou shalt free me.’ From his dreams,

Roused is the Titan by a song of joy.

Before him, crowned with the rich harvest, stands

Ceres with her train of reapers.”

A mixed chorus of gleaners follows (“With the Lark sweetly singing”), which can hardly be excelled for grace and loveliness of melody. In the next prologue Ceres consoles Prometheus, and while she is speaking a shout of gladness rises and Bacchus appears. He smites the rock, and at his touch a bower of grape-vines and ivy boughs interlaces over the head of the Titan and shadows him. This serves to introduce the chorus of Vine-dressers (“Hail to the Pleasure-giver”), a lively strain for male voices with an effective solo quartet. As Prometheus resumes his soliloquy, Hermes approaches, leading Pandora, and seeks to allure him from his purpose by her enchantments, but in vain:—

“The Titan conquers, and he feels the hour—The fated hour—draw near. Above his headThe vulture hovers, fearing to approach;While the earth trembles, and the rocks are shaken.Voices are heard from out the gloomy depths.”

“The Titan conquers, and he feels the hour—The fated hour—draw near. Above his headThe vulture hovers, fearing to approach;While the earth trembles, and the rocks are shaken.Voices are heard from out the gloomy depths.”

“The Titan conquers, and he feels the hour—

The fated hour—draw near. Above his head

The vulture hovers, fearing to approach;

While the earth trembles, and the rocks are shaken.

Voices are heard from out the gloomy depths.”

The voices are those of the spirits in the lower regions singing a very melodramatic chorus (“Woe! woe! the sacred Sleep of the Dead has been disturbed”).Anallegro moderatofor orchestra follows, preluding the approach of Hercules, who bends his giant bow and kills the vulture, strikes the fetters off and bids him “Go hence unto thy Mother’s Throne.” The scene introduces the seventh number (“All human Foresight wanders in deepest Night”), an expressive and stately male chorus with solo quartet. The last prologue describes the scene at the throne of Themis, the pardon of Prometheus, and her assurance that “Henceforth Olympus smiles upon the Earth.” Pallas presents him with a veiled figure as the reward of his heroism, “who will bring to thy race the richest blessing,—Truth.” The goddess unveils her and declares her name “Agathea. She brings to man the purest, holiest gift,—Charity.” The closing chorus of the Muses follows:—

“Of all bright thoughts that bloom on earth,That raise poor mortals high as heaven,The holiest, the blessedest is Charity.Hail, Prometheus! Hail to mankind!”

“Of all bright thoughts that bloom on earth,That raise poor mortals high as heaven,The holiest, the blessedest is Charity.Hail, Prometheus! Hail to mankind!”

“Of all bright thoughts that bloom on earth,

That raise poor mortals high as heaven,

The holiest, the blessedest is Charity.

Hail, Prometheus! Hail to mankind!”

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