ra in Paris, a piece of music performed at Versailles.

It is merely requisite to agree upon beforehand with the chorus-singers,
or with their conductor (if as an additional precaution, they have one),
the way in which the orchestral conductor beats the time--whether he
marks all the principal beats, or, only the first of the bar--since the
oscillations of the stick, moved by electricity, being always from right
to left, indicate nothing precise in this respect.

When I first used, at Brussels, the valuable instrument I have just
endeavored to describe, its action presented one objection. Each time
that the copper key of my desk underwent the pressure of my left
forefinger, it struck, underneath, another plate of copper, and,
notwithstanding the delicacy of the contact, produced a little sharp
noise, which, during the pauses of the orchestra, attracted the
attention of the audience, to the detriment of the musical effect.

I pointed out the fault to Mr. Van Bruge, who substituted for the lower
plate of copper the little cup filled with quicksilver, previously
mentioned. Into this the protuberance so entered as to establish the
electric current without causing the slightest noise.

Nothing remains now, as regards the use of this mechanism, but the
crackling of the spark at the moment of its emission. This, however, is
too slight to be heard by the public.

The metronome is not expensive to put up; it costs 16 pounds at the most.
Large lyric theatres, churches, and concert-rooms should long ago
have been provided with one. Yet, save at the Brussels Theatre, it is
nowhere to be found. This would appear incredible, were it not that the
carelessness of the majority of directors of institutions where music
forms a feature is well known; as are their instinctive aversion to
whatever disturbs old-established customs, their indifference to the
interests of art, their parsimony wherever an outlay for music is
needed, and the utter ignorance of the principles of our art among
those in whose hands rests the ordering of its destiny.

I have not yet said all on the subject of those dangerous auxiliaries
named chorus-masters. Very few of them are sufficiently versed in the
art, to conduct a musical performance, so that the orchestral conductor
can depend upon them. He cannot therefore watch them too closely when
compelled to submit to their coadjutorship.

The most to be dreaded are those whom age has deprived of activity and
e