ing novelties, and will preserve it in remembrance a little, and but a little longer. But it does not speak well for national talent or national judgment, when our great theatres produce no higher nor more lasting effects. And it is doubly hard upon a man of such talent as Mr. Bishop to be set to labour upon such impracticable materials; for who has not observed that genius rises in proportion to the nature and the degree of the excitement ? 1. When I glance at the thought that another; words by Mrs. J. H. R. Mott; the style very plaintive. 2. I thought I had lost you for ever; the style very expressive; dedicated to the Misses Kemp, of Brighton, and written by Mrs. I. H. R. Mott. 3. When I gaze on that beautiful fuce; words by Mrs. I. H. R. Mott; the style very expressive. 4. Sweet Mary, that lives on the brues o' the Doon; the style truly Scottish. 5. There is a flow'r; the words by Montgomery; the style simple and innocent. 6. Once to gain a lovely flow'r; the style very affecting; dedicated to Mrs. Stroeling. We lately had the felicity to bring our readers to a knowledge of the wonderful merits of Mr. Isaac Henry Robert Mott, by shewing them how marvellously he excelled in didactics, and with what astonishing skill he contrived to mix them up with divinity, poetry, and metaphysics. And although he is now about to come before us in the more humble capacity of a "ballad monger," we shall still discover the same marks of super-eminent genius, and the same noble disdain of those considerations which affect ordinary men and ordinary musicians. Even in the Catalogue Raisonnee which heads this article, we have some glimpses of his merit and modesty, but both, we trust, will appear more plainly, from the observations which we shall venture to make on the several compo sitions enumerated in it. Let no one imagine that this highly. descriptive catalogue is our work-point de tout; we are indebted for it to the eloquent Mr. Mott himself; and we are not sure that, but for his glowing descriptions, these pathetic productions might. not have escaped us altogether. We shall take them according to the order in which they are now placed; first giving the author's account of each song, and then adding such remarks as may appear necessary to the more full elucidation of his ideas. No. 1. "When I glance at the thought." The style of this song, is said by Mr. M. to be "very plaintive," and truly are we obliged to him for the information; for there is no precise meaning in the symphony which could furnish it. This however may be a clever contrivance to make the melody itself more pleasing. We shall present our readers with a few extracts; for they, as we are, must be anxious to become acquainted with the author's "very plaintive style." (See Example, No. 1.) The tide of the, composer's sorrow runs high in the next page, and he makes a transition to A minor, the original key being E. (See No. 2.). There is a very happy and judicious division on "throne," which seems particularly called for by the nature of the word. The same division takes place a few bars after, on "moan," and, as we think, with much propriety, because "moan" rhymes to "throne." Whoever looks at these passages, and considers the manner in which they are marked, must admit that they cannot fail of producing much effect on the auditor. The compass of the melody may be called reasonable, as it only extends to two octaves, and a major semitone. 66 No. 2. "I thought I had lost you for ever." We are told by the composer, that the style of this song is "very expressive,". and he has likewise had the goodness to inform us, that it was written at Paris on the 23d of October, 1822, This is as it should be-for too much accuracy cannot be displayed with regard to works of genius. We ourselves would give a trifle to know who laid the first stone of the great pyramid, and posterity will be thankful to Mr. Mott. This profound writer is very fond of old compound measures, and they are fre quently of use to him: for example, the first bars of the symphony to this "very expressive" song remind us of several waltzes which we have heard, but they look very gravely, in six érotchet time, and prepare us for the lamentevole, which is placed at the beginning of the song itself. D is wanting in many places throughout this composition; indeed Mr. M. in imitation we presume of the ancient masters, frequently leaves us to remember that the seventh of the key must always be a sharp seventh at the perfect cadence. Having at page 5 been detained in Eb, till we have forgotten the original key, Ab, we are suddenly led back to it, by the very agreeable passage which will be found at No. 3. This happy manner of getting from Eb to Ab seems quite unique, and we recommend a careful study of it to all young writers, who in modulation are apt to lose their way. Proceed we now to No. 3, which, as the title page informs us, is "a plaintive song, in the expressive style." This method of letting us at once into his secret, and of saving us all the trouble of discovering the particular character of the music, is generous on the part of our author, and cannot be too much applauded. He may to be sure have taken the hint from the story of the painter and his lion, but we do not consider ourselves to be the less indebted to him on that account. Having satisfied our conscience by this acknowledgment, we now turn to the melody of this "plaintive song," which presents itself with all the recommendations of an old and familiar acquaintance. At No. 4 our readers will find for their gratification the first section of the air, and let him who shall attempt to sing it carefully attend to the terms "doloroso" "lamentevole," and to the marks of expression which are so bountifully strewed over the whole. We must not omit the symphony at the end of the first part, because we humbly conceive that it contains nothing less than a specimen of the Mordente Armonico Anglicano, invented by our immortal author, and justly lauded by us in the article already referred to. (See No. 5.) If any one can listen without emotion to this "lively and spirited embellishment,' which produces an exquisite effect, when delicately executed on descending passages-if any one we say can listen to this grace, unmoved, he is unworthy to hearken to the productions of those who, perchance, wear "laurel crowns," wreathed from "a few of her waste leaves," which music drops " on Albion's isle." "Sweet Mary, that lives on the braes o' the Doon," is the next on our list, and, according to Mr. Mott, it is written in a style "truly Scottish." Being particularly fond of the music of our Northern brethren, we turned with anxious expectation to this song, and were particularly struck with the characteristic excellence of the symphony, especially the latter part, but we shall extract the whole for the delight of our friends, (See No. 6)—and where is there any one who, in our extract (No. 7), will not discover the production of a mind deeply imbued with those traits of melody which, till now, have only been found North of the Tweed? The concluding symphony, though short, is equally felicitous. (See No. 8.) The author, with that regard for precision which the importance of the subject demands, has taken care to inform us, that the poetry of this song is by J. Imlah, Esq. of Aberdeen; the music composed by J. H. R. Mott, of London. It was our intention to have offered a few remarks on another of Mr. M.'s productions, "There is a flower"-in a style simple and innocent-but on looking over our last parcel from London we find that our Correspondent has omitted to send it. We are very much vexed at this circumstance, and shall give the gentleman a sharp lecture for his inattention. At present we must be content with declaring, on the authority of Mr. M. that should this song fall in the way of any of our readers, they will find it "innocent and simple." There is yet one more song which demands attention, and we have reserved it till the last, because we consider it to be the triumph of our author's taste and sensibility" Once to gain a lovely flow'r”—but this poetry being written by "a lady of distinction," we think it due to the noble authoress to give it at length. "Once, to gain a lovely flow'r, For it, in my tranquil breast. Like my fair is yonder rose, But its beauty hides a thorn." Lines, such as these, are well calculated to set fire to the whole train of thought which is concealed in the cranium of a man of genius. Accordingly in this composition Mr. M. has risen almost above himself, and has given new and astonishing proofs of his delicacy and susceptibility; no wonder then he should tell us, that the style of this song is "very affecting." We are introduced to the symphony by a remarkably original prelude, which must prepare the mind for the melancholy associations of "voice and verse" which are to follow. (See No. 9.) The symphony itself abounds in triplets, which every one knows have an effect singularly plaintive. But we can bestow little time on this part, being anxious beyond measure to arrive at the air, of which we shall give the first section at No. 10. Before the reader turns to that extract let him stop and guess, if he can, by what an admirable expedient our author heightens the pathos of his composition. No! the reader cannot guess. Well, we will let him into the secret. It is nothing less than this-that the music shall be sung "affectingly, and interspersed with sighs at the rests." Now hide your heads "ye lesser lights," which twinkle in your spheres, and acknowledge that here is a thought worthy of the great inventor of the mordente armonico anglicano. And once more we repeat it; let there be no pilfering; let no one, on pain of our castigation, and the loss of his own credit, attempt to rob our author of that "crown" which we now place on his head, in remembrance of his marvellous, and, till now, unheard of expedient. The last extract will remind the reader of "Faithless Emma," but he cannot object to it on that account; for Sir J. Stevenson's song is on a mournful theme-disastrous love. Mr. M. however, has much improved on his original, by sundry and diverse flights, of which we shall give a specimen or two at No. 11. They will be found brilliant in a remarkable degree, and so easy that any one of our young friends may sing them, even though she may not have had the advantage of receiving lessons from the renowned Signor Rossini, at the moderate |