incontestably proved by the fact, that persons who have not what is technically called an ear receive equal delight from them— perhaps greater, for their attention is more exclusively alive to the -feeling inherent in the poetry. Indeed the first-rate composers, the men who stand on the table-land of genius with the great painters and poets who have earned their immortality, are perfectly conscious of this; and when their object is simply to give effect to poetry, their first care is to imbue themselves with its tone and spirit, instead of throwing off at once a succession of brilliant passages beneath which the verses must be crushed. It is currently related of Carl von Weber that he positively refused to set to work on a song in Lalla Rookh- From Chindara's warbling fount I come'-until he had read the entire poem ; and two curious anecdotes are told by Mr. Hogarth of Gluck, manifesting the extreme attention which he paid to the keeping of his music:

He was one day playing over to some of his friends the scene in Iphigenia in Tauris, where Orestes, left to himself in his prison, after a paroxysm of agitation, throws himself on a seat, saying, "Le calme rentre dans mon cœur." A person present thought he perceived a contradiction between this phrase and the accompaniment, which continued to be of an agitated character. "Orestes is calm," he said to Gluck,"he says so." "He lies," exclaimed the composer, "he thinks he is calm while he is only exhausted; but the fury is always in his breasthe has killed his mother."

Rousseau was a warm admirer of the genius of Gluck; on one occasion he remarked, that the great merit of this composer was his giving a distinct character to the airs of each of his personages; an attention which, however, had made him commit an anachronism in his opera of Paris and Helen. "The songs of Paris," said Rousseau, "have all the richness and effeminacy of Phrygian manners, while those of Helen are constantly grave and simple; but Gluck has forgotten that the Spartan severity of manners had its origin in the legislation of Lycurgus, and that Helen was born long before that time." This observation was communicated to Gluck. "I should be happy," he said, in answer, "if my works were always examined by such enlightened and scrupulous judges. M. Rousseau's reasoning is very ingenious, but I viewed the subject differently. Helen loved Paris; but I find in Homer that she endeavoured to elevate his mind and excite in him a love of glory. I see that she was esteemed by Hector; and the praise she drew from the old men as she passed indicates as much respect for her character as admiration of her beauty. Thus, by giving her a simple and grave, but elegant style of singing, I do not mean to characterise a Spartan woman merely, but a high and generous soul.'-vol. i. p. 287, 288.

What a contrast to the Italian and English composers of the day! who have acquired such a habit of disregarding the text,

and

and manifested such hopeless incapacity for co-operating with genius, that the libretto of an opera is now conventionally regarded as a mere key to the intricacies of the plot; and should you chance to question the director or manager regarding the authorship, he would probably draw himself up with insulted dignity, and reply, like Mrs. Warren when asked who wrote the famous blacking-puffs once attributed to Lord Byron,—‹ Sir, we keeps a poet.'*

This state of things may suggest an occasional doubt whether music be in fact entitled to dispute the point of precedence with poetry, but we are unwilling to engage in another controversy with the Prince, though perhaps the very highest compliment we can pay a royal author is to argue with him on a footing of equality; particularly when, like the royal author before us, he is so well qualified to hold his own. Still we prefer concluding with a passage in which our sympathies go completely along with him. It forms the introduction to some eloquent remarks on the Manysidedness of Music :

'Much has been said already as to the manysidedness (vielseitigkeit) of this art. But there is no more convincing proof how thoroughly music is the language of our feelings, how closely interwoven with our whole being, than the reflection, in how many ways and to what different purposes it is applied. The inhabitant of a civilised country may daily convince himself of this; he, however, has the jewel within his grasp, and often ceases to think about it, or does not know its value. But place a savage, who either had no previous acquaintance at all with the capabilities of music, or knew it only in its rudest, most unfinished state, in the capital of a European country-particularly on a Sundayand let all the ordinary applications of music be brought before him. In the first place, go with him to church. He hears a Christian congregation proclaim the glory of God in solemn songs of praise, accompanied by the impressive harmonies of the organ; and, moved to his inmost soul, wrapped in the deepest wonder, he will stand lost in admiration of the sublimity of this tribute to the Supreme Being. After divine service he repairs to the Parade, where he sees the troops exercised to the sound of military music, and the love of battle and the spirit of manhood are upstirred and inflamed in his breast, and he would fain press into the ranks of war. He is next taken to the palace of the sovereign, where he finds the joys of the table heightened by pleasing, inspiriting music. On his return he sees a grand military funeral move majestically through the streets, and hears the solemn, wailing tones of

* In Stendhal's Life of Rossini, the theatre-poet, Tottola, is only introduced to be laughed at, though he seems to have been not destitute of originality, for he suggested the celebrated prayer preceding the passage of the Red Sea in Mosè in Egitto, before the addition of which the scene was uniformly the signal for general laughter. The comparative neglect of Purcell, perhaps the only English composer of note who has given English words their full and precise musical expression, is one of the worst symptoms of contemporary taste.

the

the mourning music, mingled with the dead beat of the drum. In the evening he visits the theatre, and hears an opera, in which the music thoroughly corresponds with the action. By way of conclusion, he is conducted to a ball, where he sees a numerous society of dancers moving to the nicely-timed tones of stirring instruments. This savage, beside himself with wonder and admiration, would infallibly be brought to the conclusion that almost all the actions of the inhabitants of this capital their doings, joys, and sorrows are invariably accompanied by music. He would tell his friends in his native land, "I have discovered a people who can neither worship their God, nor carry on their wars, nor dine, nor dance, nor amuse themselves in society, nay, not even bury their dead, without music!" And this is actually the case with all civilised communities. Music has become every way indispensable to every one who knows its value, in all the circumstances of life.'

When some one said something of this sort to Dr. Johnson, he replied: Sir, I envy you the possession of a sixth sense;' and a most enviable gift it must be admitted to be, even by those who are obliged to take its most exalted qualities upon trust. Again, in his dedication to Dr. Burney's History, Dr. Johnson characterises music as an art which the great may cultivate without debasement, and the good enjoy without depravation.' The work before us shows that, weighed in the strictest scales of reason or philosophy-and connoisseurship, enthusiasm, or partiality apart -it merits far higher praise; for it has not only been cultivated without debasement by the great, and enjoyed without depravation by the good, but it has been made the means, under Providence, of developing intellectual resources in which the fate of one of the most cultivated divisions of the great German nation is involved.

ART. VII.-Lebensnachrichten über Barthold Georg Niebuhr, aus Briefen desselben und aus Erinnerungen einiger seiner nächsten Freunde. Hamburg, 1838-9. S bände. (Account of the Life of Barthold George Niebuhr, from his own Letters, and the Reminiscences of his most intimate friends.)

WE ventured to anticipate, in our notice of M. Lieber's agree

able volume,* that the friends and admirers of so remarkable a writer as Niebuhr, the historian, would not be content with so brief and hasty a sketch of his life and personal character. The work before us consists chiefly of Niebuhr's own letters, connected and illustrated by passages of biography. As, how

* See Quarterly Review, Vol. LV., p. 34, &c.

ever, various accidents, particularly the fire in his house at Bonn, had dispersed or destroyed considerable parts of his correspondence, the history of his life, and the development of his views and opinions, are by no means regular and complete. We are thankful, however, for that which we have. The biographer has executed his part of the task under the influence of strong reverence and regard, but by no means with that blind idolatry which would make us mistrust his judgment. The letters reveal to us that which we always welcome with satisfaction and delight—a man of very extraordinary intellectual gifts and attainments, equally eminent for all those estimable qualities which command respect and confidence in public life, as well as the ardent love and attachment of his own household, and a large circle of private and distinguished friends. The letters, though perhaps we may not go so far as M. Bunsen, who considers them the most important and valuable of our time, are written with great ease and freedom, perfectly unstudied, yet with much of Niebuhr's peculiar nervous and pregnant style, and give a very lively view of the character of the man, and, to a certain extent, of his times.

The biography of Niebuhr is by no means devoid of interest, as connected with the period in which he lived. The historian of Rome was no secluded scholar, amassing treasures of ancient knowledge in the library of a college, and holding intercourse merely with brother students and professors, or youths in a state of pupilage. He was employed in public affairs of trust and importance; he was the intimate friend and counsellor of some of the first statesmen in Germany; he had great practical acquaintance with business, particularly with finance. In short, though the man of letters was that character to which he was predisposed by his inclinations, which he yearned after when more busily employed, and retreated upon with the most sincere satisfaction, yet during a great part of his life it was only subordi nate to his high public functions. His vast scheme for the reconstruction of Roman history was first conceived, and for some time followed out, in intervals of repose from official duties of laborious detail and calculation. Nor was his life confined to one place or one circle. In his youth he visited many countries, among the rest England and Scotland; and, as is well known, he resided for several years at Rome. But perhaps the most stirring and amusing part of his biography to the general reader, will be the period of peril and confusion through which he lived in the country which had adopted him, and to which he was attached with the ardour of a native. Throughout the vicissitudes which befel Prussia during the war-her subjugation, her enforced sub

servience,

servience, her assertion of independence-Niebuhr was present, and involved in the perils and afflictions of the times. Nor can it be uninteresting or uninstructive to see how that common scourge of mankind, war, personally affected the peace, the comforts, the studies, the domestic happiness, as well as the public functions, of a man of the character and in the position of Niebuhr; the inconveniences and miseries which are entailed on individuals by that game, which, as Cowper well says,

"Were their subjects wise,

Kings should not play at '

we would add, nor subjects either of any one restless and ambitious state, if mankind would be governed by its real intereststo appeal to no higher motive-rather than by its blind and disastrous passions.

Barthold George Niebuhr was the son of Karsten Niebuhr, the celebrated traveller in Arabia. The younger Niebuhr wrote a life of his father, from which the small tract in the Library of Useful Knowledge' was composed by that accomplished lady who seems to enjoy the almost exclusive prerogative of translating German into genuine, perspicuous, and agreeable English. The elder Niebuhr and his wife, a daughter of Blumenburg the physician, were Germans by birth. His Arabian travels had been performed under the auspices and at the expense of the Danish court, whose able and intelligent minister, Count Bernstorff, had set this example to more powerful and wealthy sovereigns, of encouraging geographical and scientific inquiry. On his return from his travels, Niebuhr remained, as an officer of engineers, in the service of the King of Denmark, and nine years after (A.D. 1776) his illustrious son was born at Copenhagen. In 1778 the father received an appointment as district-secretary (landschreiber) at Meldorf, the capital of the old republic of Ditmarschen, a province which retained many vestiges of its ancient free institutions. In a large old-fashioned house in the midst of that vast cultivated morass, as flat and treeless as the sands of Arabia, this adventurous and enterprising traveller closed his days, and the future historian passed the first years of vivid youthful impression in this dreary and monotonous habitation. He was long, he acknowledges, insensible to the beauty of natural scenery. At Edinburgh he had some dawning perception of the sublime in nature, but his mind awakened but slowly to any feeling of the soft, the genial, and the graceful. Their mode of living was plain and simple: the elder Niebuhr never abandoned the rigid and abstemious habits of his more active prime. An occasional visitor, either a friend or some one attracted by the fame of the traveller,

alone