• z. The fublimity of fuch founds correfponds not to their na ture, as founds, but to the nature of the qualities they fignify. Sounds of all kinds are fublime, in proportion as they are expreffive of power, or fiercenefs, or ftrength, or any other quality capable of producing ftrong emotions in the animals which they diftinguish. There are many inftances undoubtedly where loud cries are fublime, but there are many also, where fuch notes are very far from being fo. The lowing of cows, the braying of the afs, the fcream of the peacock and many other inoffenfive birds, are only mean or difagreeable.

in

• Low or feeble founds, in the fame manner, are generally confdered as the contrary of fublime; yet there are alfo many fances where fuch founds are ftrongly fublime, when they diftinguish the notes of fierce, or dangerous, or powerful animals, There is not a found fo generally contemptible as that which we diffinguish by the name of hifling, yet this is the found appropriated to ferpents, and the greater part of poifonous reptiles; and, as fuch, is extremely fublime. The noife of the rattlefnake (that oft dangerous animal of all his tribe) is very little different from the noife of a child's play-thing, yet who will deny its fublimity! The growl of the tyger refembles the purring of a cat: the one is fablime, the other infignificant. Nothing can be more trifling than the found produced by that litte animal, which among the common people is called the death-watch; yet many a bold heart hath felt its power. The inhabitants of modern Europe would fmile, if they were asked, if there were any fublimity in the notes of chickens, or fwallows, or magpies; yet under the influence of ancient fuperftition, when fuch animals were confidered as ominous, the bravest among the people have trembled at their found. The fuperftitions of other countries afford innumerable inftances of the fame kind.

If these illuftrations are juft, it fhould feem, that the fublimity of the notes of animals is to be ascribed to the associations we connect with them, and not to any original fitness in the mere founds themfeves, to produce this emotion.' Y. Y.

ART. V. Memoires ou Effai fur la Mufique. Par M. Grétry. Memoirs, or an Effay on Mufic. By M. Gretry, p. 565. 8vo. Paris. 1789.

THIS amiable writer gives us an artless account of himself and his mufical compofitions, in order to intersperse, as he avows, the reflections and advice which experience had fuggefted. This manner of treating the fubject, though it renders his book more familiar and inftructive, makes the task of analyzing it very difficult, becaufe the thread muft abfolutely be fnapped: befides, when a book is written in the first perfon, it lofes half its intereft, when the third is fubftituted. It is true that this effay abounds with what fome may term egotism, which might, perhaps, with more propriety be ftyled individuality; yet, fo much heart appears in the memoirs, that it is impoffible

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impoffible not to love a man, who thus ventures to appear in his true colours.

He tells us, in the preface, that he has undertaken to write on the subject, because that an artist only can do it; and if he has interwoven fome circumftances of his life, it is only to connect what relates to mufic. After a few more remarks, he adds, it is neceffary to fay that there is a mufic, which having for its bafis the declamation of words, is as true as the paffions. This hint will lead the fagacious reader to foresee in what manner he proposed to treat the fubject.

The first part contains the fimple memoirs of his life, written in fuch an easy natural ftyle, that without exciting much curiofity or wonder, the incidents are rendered very interesting, and the most unaffected fentiments find the nearest way to the heart; but this volume deserves to be ranked higher than as a book of mere amusement: for, excepting Rouffeau's animated ftrictures on mufic, we have never met with any treatife on the fubject, in which fo many juft reflections, and pertinent obfervations, the fure refult of experience, occur. Indeed, having confined his purfuit entirely to mufic, his remarks are often more useful and practical than the flights of that eccentric genius. Rouffeau would probably have been one of the first compofers the world ever produced, if he had not been something better as it was, merely by the force of his genius, he plunged into the scientific part of the art without much previous drudgery, nor had he afterwards fufficient experience to enable him to correct the extravagancies of his imagination, and give his compofitions a more equal temperature. M. G. on the contrary, dedicated his whole life to the cultivation of the predominant bent of his mind, not that we mean to infinuate that he was in other refpects an ignorant man: no; his unvitiated taste for nature, and his fenfible remarks on men and manners, prove that many other fubjects did not escape his perfpicacious eye; and there is an originality and spirit in his manner of expreffing them, which proves that he was not a mere echo. But only in his favourite track did he pant to excel, and he seems, if we may be allowed the comparison, to have joined the foul and body of mufic very amicably together; to have reconciled melody and harmony; a charming couple whom man has frequently torn asunder, though nature evidently points out that they fhould ever be united, and fupport each other. With a comprehensive mind and quick feelings, he could not be led aftray by the tricks of execution; his heart beat true to the emotions of paffion, and was not the flave, but the master of his ear.

We shall pass over that part of the volume which is more particularly appropriated to the memoirs, and felect promifcuoufly from it, and the ftrictures on his operas, only fuch pafVOL. VII.

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fages

fages as relate to the main fubject; but as he regularly analyzes many of the operas which he has fet to mufic, to give a degree of fpirit to his remarks, and to fave himfelf the trouble of fyftematizing them, our quotations must neceffarily be detached and defultory. Speaking of his youth, when his voice began to change, he fays fhrewdly

The only confident of my defires I retired into my chamber to give myself up to my delirium, and often defpairing of ever being able to touch the heart of fome beauty, who only exifted in my imagination; it was this timidity which was born with me, that made me prefer a fantastic being to a real one. This timidity is dangerous, I acknowledge; it concentres the flame of the paffions, it excites a fire, which could only be weakened by spreading itself without, but ferves, perhaps, to prepare the foul of a young artift, who ought to paint the paffions. Genius is relaxed by enjoyment, it is warmed by defire.'

He further informs us, that he has accelerated or retarded the motion of his pulfe, by finging in different measures; and he thinks that rhythm is for the ear, what fymmetry is for the eye.

Alluding to church mufic, he obferves, that

compofer who works for the church ought to be very severe, and mix nothing in his compofitions which belongs to the theatre. What a difference in fact,' (he adds,) between the fentiments which reign in the pfalms, the anthems, the hymns, &c. and the vehemence of love or jealoufy. Love, properly fpeaking, ought not to have any refemblance with the love of God; even when it fpplies its place in the heart of a young woman. Every fentiment which elevates itfelf towards the Deity fhould have a vague and pious character; becaufe every thing which is above our knowledge extorts refpect from us.

--

A musician who devotes himself to church mufic, is happy in having power, juft as his fancy directs, to make use of all the riches of counter-point, which the theatre very rarely permits. The vague expreffion of mufic has a more magic charm than the mufic of declamation; and it ought to be adopted, when facred words are chofen. Profane mufic may employ fome forms confecrated to the church; nothing is rifqued by ennobling the paffions, which are connected with the order and happiness of men.'

Some obfervations which he makes on a vulgar error, must not be omitted.

Many people are allowed to have the talent of executing perfectly well, at fight; I have never met with this phenomenon, unlefs the mufic has been very eafy, or refembling other mufic. I know that a man who wishes to maintain the credit of playing at fight, fhews all the boldness of a man, who is fure of doing it; but it is the author himfelf whom it is neceffary to fatisfy, and not the hearers, who ignorant of the juft expreffion of a work which they are not acquainted with, believe that it is well rendered, becaufe it is executed boldly. I formerly met with a child at Geneva, who executed every thing at fight; and his father faid to me in a full affembly,

affembly, that there may not remain any doubt respecting my fon's talents, make a very difficult morceau de fonate for him to execute to-morrow. I made him an allegro en mi bémol, difficult without affectation; he executed it, and every one, excepting myfelf, exclaimed, a miracle! The child was not ftopped by any thing; but in following the modulation, he had fubftituted a number of paffages inftead of thofe which I had written.'

The following remark, though not new, is well expreffed, and cannot be too often infifted upon, if we wish to cultivate a national tafte for mufic.

Mufic, properly fpeaking, will be for every ten or twelve years the play-thing of fathion; a finger, endowed with exquifite fenfibility, a compofer, whofe genius deviates from the beaten track, a kind of enthufiaft, whofe eccentricities awaken the multitude always eager after novelty; the roulades, fo favourable to certain fingers, and almoft always injurious to the expreffion; the cadences, the points d'orgues, in a word, all this mufical luxury will perish, and, perhaps, rife again in the fame century; but thefe changes do not make an important revolution in the principles of the art.

Truth is the fublime of all productions; fashion can do nothing against it; a brilliant whim may eclipfe for a moment the merit of ingenious people; but foon in filence men blush at having been deceived, and render new homage to truth.

• It will undoubtedly be objected, that the accent of the French language has changed under the two laft reigns; that the court of Lewis the XIVth was gallant, and had a tone of chivalry; that under Lewis the XVth the noble manners and graces of the ancient court were feebly imitated, and that, in fhort, the language of the courtiers at prefent has scarcely any accent, and that bon ton confifts in not having one. Should it then be inferred from thence, that mufic ought to change with the accent? No; the cry of nature never changes, and it is that which conftitutes good mufic.

King Henry always fwore to love the beautiful Gabrielle with the fame accents as a man under the influence of paffion would now fpeak; it has been faid that the fong Charmante Gabrielle was compofed, words and mufic, by the good king Henry the fourth. I know not whether it is an illufion, but I have always thought that I recognize in it the foul of that good prince. I will fay then that the accents of a language following the manners; it ought to be falfe, artificial, and affected among a corrupt people; but if nature referves for herself only the heart of a fingle man, he alone will find the true accent. Befides, whatever may be his manners, a man is rarely artificial when he is fubjugated by violent paffions.

I made fuch laborious (fpeaking of his first compofitions) and obftinate exertions to avail myself at the juncture and with moderation of the elements with which my head was filled, that I was almost overcome. Experience had not yet taught me that the art of facrificing diftinguishes the good artift. I fought in vain to be true and fimple; a fwarm of ideas came to obfcure my picture: when I adopted all I was discontented, when I retrenched it was at random, and I was still more diffatisfied. This ftruggle between judgment and science, that is to fay, between tafte which wishes to chufe, and inexperience

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inexperience which knows not how to reject this ftruggle, I fay, was fo lively, that it injured my health, already impaired.'

Some obfervations which he makes on the wearinefs that frequently appears in the countenance of men of letters, when they liften to mufic, are ingenious.

If I may be allowed to examine why men of letters who have the most wit are not those who know beft how to appreciate a turn of a tune, a note of the bafs, &c. when I execute my mufic before them, I remark that they experience the fame kind of inquietude, as undoubtedly Fontenelle did, when he said fonate, que me veux tu? whilft a woman or a child is foftly agitated by agreeable fenfations. I fhall only here give my ideas as a weak conception, which cannot refolve fuch a metaphyfical problem, far above my powers.

Let us at first confider what is the habitual employment of men of letters, generally fpeaking. Whether they write or fpeak, it is almost always to adorn with the graces of wit fimple truths which have not need of any foreign ornament. Why then are they not fimply and naturally prefented to our eyes? becaufe men of genius are rare, and the truth only fhews herself to them. Men of genius leave behind them a crowd of imitators, who no longer daring to fay, in the fame manner, what has been faid before, are obliged to difguife the truth under the charm of graces. I avow even that the illufion is often so perfect, fo feducing, that one is tempted to take the appearance for truth itfelf.

The more men have written on a fubject, the more difficult is it to treat it; and as it is impoffible to add any thing to truth, the mind muft every day make new efforts to connect incoherent ideas, the relations of which become fo unconnected, fubtle and delicate, that the mind going aftray in its vaft empire, lofes the laft glimmer of the light

of truth.

Since mufic to be felt only requires thofe happy inftincts which na ture gives, it should feem as if wit injured inftinct, and that men only approach to one in departing from the other; and that, in fhort, the more facility there is in combining, and drawing near the ideas, the more you weaken the natural feeling, which is only affected by one thing at a time-and it is fufficient to feel it well. The man delivered to fimple nature receives without refiftance the foft emotions which are given to him. The man of wit, on the contrary, wishes to know from whence the pleasure comes, and before it reaches his heart, it vanishes. Sentiment is as volatile as confined effences, which the contact of the air make evaporate; in the fame manner a fenfation is loft, if it ftrikes an organ habituated to analyze in order to feel.

Every body, nevertheless, wifhes to have the air of loving mufic, every one knows that it is an exaltation of foul, the language of the heart; to allow that this language is foreign to them, would be to make an avowal of infenfibility; every man then acts the part of a critic, and exclaims, ah, that is delicious! with a frozen mien. If he is a man of letters, he is in hafte to write a pamphlet on mufic, in which it may he faid, that a mufician is a brute, who only knows how to feel, and by the force of argument, he establishes himself a mufician in his place. Will any one infer from what I have juft faid, that it is neceffary,.in order to have a fentiment for mufic, to be neither a poet nor hiftorian;

neither