taste of the poorer classes. During
several weeks of the present year, operas in an English dress were
simultaneously performed at three of our theatres. The very gods in the
galleries now look benignly down upon the Italian strangers, which--to
use a theatrical phrase--draw better houses than any other performances
would command.

In the country, the advancement is less manifest. A provincial musical
party is generally a fearful thing. In the society of the metropolis,
none but the really skilful musician is ever heard; in the country,
these are rare beings; or, if the scientific performer is sometimes
found, like the diamond in the mine, he shines in vain, there are none
to appreciate his excellence. It is truly painful to see a number of
fair young creatures, one after another, brought up to the instrument;
there to exhibit, not taste or skill, but ignorance and inability. It is
even still more painful to be condemned to listen to the performance of
the best specimens, selected from the stock of school-taught pieces,
beyond which many of the fair performers know little or nothing. We beg
pardon of our fair young countrywomen; the fault lies not with them. The
indiscriminate teaching of music cannot make all musicians. Many have no
warm taste for music, and many more, who, under other circumstances,
might have pursued the art as an amusement and recreation, are disgusted
from their earliest youth by its being made a task, the difficulty of
which is immeasurably increased by imperfect instruments. The general
taste of the provincial world has advanced but little, for many years.
There is a certain class of music, which has been respectfully listened
to for upwards of a century; which, having been admired before, is
therefore proper to be admired again. Few would dare to criticize, or
avow a distaste for, music which has so long been popular. Handel and
some others still meet with universal deference, and their very names
alone suffice to silence any one who, more hardy than the rest, should
be disposed to find fault. This music, however, is heard with cold
indifference; it calls forth no feeling, and excites no enthusiasm. It
is, indeed, seldom adequately performed. Many of Handel's songs are
truly dramatic; but the purists of "the good old school," sternly
adhering to their--self-styled classic--insipidity, never condescend to
a meretricious display of dramatic power. The Italian and German schools
are not understood