the concomitant of mature age; gaiety that of infancy or youth. The voice of the latter is acute, that of the former comparatively low. It would, therefore, on that account alone, be as preposterous to express grave words by acute sounds, as it would be ridiculous to utter a lively and joyous sentence in deep notes. Only think of Cato sternly moralizing with the mincing shrill voice of an unfledged stripling! On the other hand, even the aged give vent to joy in elevated accents of voice. All this, moreover, is referable to physical causes. Low notes are produced by the slow vibrations of the sonorous body, and high ones by rapid vibrations. What, therefore, can be more natural, than that the quick pulsations of a heart elated with joy should be depicted by notes produced in a similar manner; and that the steady and sedate dicta of a tranquil mind should be accompanied by sounds created by the leisurely vibrations of the sounding material. We may add here, by the way-although in anticipation-that the reason for employing slow or quick notes for serious or gay purposes, respectively, is precisely the same; and this circumstance will probably appear even more obvious. Hundreds of quotations might be adduced in support of it. In Mozart's Il Don Giovanni, the spectre speaks in slow and deep accents, while the gay Lothario sings his " Fin' ch' han' dal vino" in rapid upper notes. Ghosts are always made to speak in a deep tone of voice, and slow, although no one ever heard their mode of conversation. The practice, therefore, is purely founded upon æsthetical deduction. The above allusion to the mode of expressing the grave and gay by phonetic means was merely intended by way of general illustration. The distinction between both is broad and obvious. But there are innumerable other affections of the mind which the composer endeavours to pourtray by the peculiar nature of the sounds which his judgment selects for that purpose. The choice of the tonic affords him an important and remarkable resource in this respect. Although this subject may have been carried too far by some enthusiastic speculatists, and their elevated imaginations may have discovered shades and causes of distinction imperceptible to more prosaic intellects, we are convinced that it is by no means immaterial what key be selected for the melody to a particular text. Schubart, the German, rather an enthusiast, but a man in whom, as in the early bards of Greece and of the Celtic nations, poetical genius was united to great musical talent, has assigned to every tonic its legitimate power of characteristic expression. His opinions on that subject happen to be recorded in an earlier number of the New Monthly Magazine*, to which we beg leave to call the reader's particular attention; the paper being of a highly interesting nature. Without going the full length of his speculations, or presuming to set up a digested system of our own, we shall advert to a scale or two to illustrate the characteristic difference of some tonics or keys. The scale of G major seems really to possess a character of openness suitable to ingenuous navieté and innocent mirth; while A flat major, although but a semitone higher, would be totally unfit for the same expression, but would well adapt itself to deep inward feeling, Old Series, Vol. XIII. page 286. or tender devotion. The brilliant notes of the clear scale of D major are more eligible for a military piece, and E flat major is expressive of tranquil solemnity. What can be the reason of this curious and singular acoustic phenomenon? How comes it that G major and A flat major, such near neighbours should be of such a different character ?-This difference is so striking and decisive, that a good ear, listening to an air in G played upon a pianoforte, which is precisely half a tone higher than the usual pitch, and on which, therefore, G must exactly be what A flat is on the generality of instruments, would, nevertheless, instantly recognize the scale to be that of G, and not A flat. The cause of this difference of character probably lies in the " temperament" of keyed instruments, according to which the degrees of the scales of different tonics are not exactly in the same ratio with their fundamental key. Even in violins there prevails, to a certain degree, the influence of temperament; for, to adduce but one instance, the E upon the open first string is perfect as fifth to A, but too acute as third to C. Thus, then, the character of a melody will, in a great measure, de'pend on even the key in which the melody is set. But our readers must really read Schubart on this matter. His observations are extremely curious, and so ample that they supersede the necessity of our pursuing the subject in this place. A farther means of characterizing a melody is offered by setting it in a minor or major mood. Generally speaking, the minor mood is acknowledged to convey a plaintive impression, although this must be admitted with some exceptions. The reason why that mood should have a plaintive tendency is less obvious than the fact itself; and we do not recollect to have ever heard or read a satifactory explanation of the cause. If we might venture an opinion, we should say, that the circumstance alone of the minor scale being less founded in nature than the major (in as much as it is not derived from the harmonies co-vibrating with the parent sound) tends to adapt it to melancholy. The natural and legitimate province of Music is the expression of pleasing sensations; for these, therefore, the natural (major) scale is most fitting; and hence, the less natural (minor) scale seems to adapt itself better to plaintive expression. The accents of sorrow and grief, moreover, seem generally to be much more irregular in tone and pitch, than those of joy; and if we watch them more attentively, we shall find, that the degrees of tone employed in the utterance of sad and dejected feelings, so far as they can be distinguished and appreciated, lie closer to each other, are much more chromatic, than the sounds of gaiety. What a chromatic ascent and descent does not the crying of a child exhibit! Now the three characteristic degrees of the minor scale, forming one tone and one semitone (C, D, E flat) are more contiguous, than the three corresponding notes of the major scale (C, D, E,) which form two whole tones. This greater contiguity unquestionably produces a plaintive effect, and the greater the contiguity, the more melancholy the strain, such as the chromatic ascent, C, C sharp, D, E flat, &c. The acute Greeks, perfectly aware of this, had a third scale or genus, the Enharmonic, in which there were intervening degrees between even semitones, and which was still more expressive of deep emotion, and, on that account, no doubt, proscribed in the hardy and warlike country of Lacedæmon. This enharmonic scale is also entirely excluded from our own musical system. Our modern ear has no relish for it; and, although we know its intervals with the utmost precision we cannot intonate them correctly. If our musical readers wish to make an attempt, let them try to sing these four notes, (substituting in the place of a sound higher than E, but lower than F,) E, ɛ, F, A. If they succeed, they will find the effect to be of the most sour lugubrious kind. Allusion has been made above to some exceptions to the exclusive applicability of the minor mood for plaintive expression. As we are not aware of having read any remarks on these exceptions, we feel induced to state our ideas on the subject. We have observed, 1st, That in the south of Europe, and in France, a number of national songs are in the minor mood. In our walks through the fields of the Campagna Felice, as well as in the environs of Rome, and in Tuscany, we often heard the peasants sing tunes of the most affecting simplicity in that mood, the text of which, although not one of hilarity, certainly did not breathe melancholy. The subject generally was love. 2dly. A great number of the earlier lyric compositions of almost every nation, including our own, and particularly the Welsh, are in the minor mood, although the words are not of a plaintive nature. This fact may perhaps explain the preceding, or vice versa. 3d. Even in the productions of comparatively modern composers we occasionally meet with songs in the minor mood, in which there is not the slightest tinge of sadness, and in which nevertheless that mood appears perfectly appropriate for instance, "Que le Sultan Saladin" in Richard Cœur de Lion. In this air, however, as in others so circumstanced, the tempo is generally brisk. From these observations we should be inclined to infer, 1st, That the minor mood may be employed for texts, which, although not absolutely plaintive, are of a serious nature, in which a vein of pensive sensibility predominates. In such cases, however, as well as in all plaintive melodies, the minor mood must be exhibited under a slow tempo. 2dly. If the minor mood be occasionally employed for texts which are not of a serious cast, it will be proper to adopt a quick time. Such songs will generally be found to possess a decided peculiarity of character, a certain rustic wildness, or bluntness. Thus much of the phonetic* means of imparting general character. The chronic means are of equal if not more effect and importance. A previous glance at the latter which we permitted ourselves in passing, will already have afforded to our readers some idea of the effect of musical time on the character of a song. They will already comprehend why a serious grave text requires a slow tempo, why a gay sprightly stanza should be set in quicker time. Nature is here our direct guide. Cheerful people, or persons in a cheerful mood, talk with greater celerity than gloomy subjects, or persons under a depression of mind. Men in years talk slower than youth, or even than *Derived from Sound. + Derived from Time. The faculty will pardon our encroachment upon medi cal nomenclature. ladies of the same age. All things alike, females talk about half as quick again as men, or in the ratio of about 18 to 12. The proverbial "nineteen to the dozen" is therefore a pretty correct approximation. Persons, under the influence of passion, invariably speak quick. Hence a decisive rule for the composition of passionate texts, such as the conclusion of the quarrelling duet, "Madama brillante," in Figaro, Cimarosa's "Orà vedete che bricconata," in the Matrimonio segreto, and hundreds of other instances. Comic songs are, for evident reasons, generally composed in quick, or at least brisk time: e. g.: "Papa taci"-"Capellini, Capelloni" "Non più andrai farfallone amoroso," &c. In this department we must admit the defective state of English music. Not that we are destitute of what are called comic songs: rattlers there are without number, the vulgarity and coarseness of the melody of which, quite corresponding. with the low trash of the words, are a disgrace to the national taste. But of comic songs of any musical value we possess few, if any, good specimens. A text in which the predominant character is fear, or other mental agitation (Angl. flutter), requires naturally an accelerated tempo; and the frequent intervention of isochronons (equally-timed) rests of momentary duration tends greatly to pourtray the quick pulsations of the heart which commonly attend such a state of our frame. An appropriate illustration of this remark will be found in the beautiful introduction to the Magic Flute: "Zu hülfe, zu hülfe, sonst bin ich verlohren" (Ah help me, oh save me, I'm doom'd to destruction); better known under the name of " Ajuto, ajuto," &c. It is impossible to depict the sobbing ejaculations of extreme fear in a more forcible and natural manner. Another fine specimen of mental agitation, not of fright, but of amorous distress, occurs in Cherubino's air in Figaro, "Non sò più cosa son', cosa faccio." The whole of the music is a continuity of breathless flutter, as it were, until towards the conclusion the lovesick boy, the emblem of androgynism, sinks, from exhaustion, into languor and défaillance. For poetry of a pompous character, of affected grandezza, ludicrous gravity, although generally comic, a quick tempo would scarcely be suitable. People of that complacent stamp are wont to measure their words; they speak a sort of leisurely full-mouthed German text. A corresponding gravity, with great precision of measure, should therefore be adopted in the musical colouring of their sesquipedalia verba. It is thus that Winter makes Don Alonzo, the luminary of the law, speak in Gli Fratelli rivali, especially in the air "In Palermo voi vedrete ampia turba di clienti." Cimarosa's aria, too, in the Matrimonio segreto," Udite, Udite, Udite, le orecchie spalanchate," is composed precisely upon the same principle. Of the solemn, the sublime, the heroic, the martial, the prayer (preghiera), and innumerable other kinds of characteristic expression in music, it would scarcely be necessary to treat in this cursory sketch, even were our purpose and limits more extended; nor do we think it requisite to quote any examples by way of illustration. Nature and an attentive observation of mankind furnish, in every possible case of musical character, the best models for imitation. DAINTIE PASTORALS. Thaddy Mahone and Silvia Pratt. Or late a fond couple alone In the bar of a coffee-room sat, The widow received with a smile; "No trouble at all, Sir, indeed," Said the lady, and gave him a leer, "Do you wish to-day's paper to read? Will you please, Sir, to take your tea here?" It has scalded the top of my tooth. My whiskers are singed by the steam. Another gold wedding-ring there. "Do you think now my lies are untrue? You may shut those sweet eyes of your own, And never see one that loves you, Like myself Mr. Thaddy Mahone. "Come join your estate to my own, And then what a change we shall see! "I have fields in my farm at Kilmore,❞— But scarce did the widow begin When, alas! a bum bailiff came in, |