the audience rather
by the volume and richness of his tones and by a certain reserved force,
than by any unusual excellence in execution. Some one has said, that it
makes a great difference in the force of a sentence whether or not there
is a man behind it. This impression of a fulness of resources always
accompanied the efforts of Herr Formes; every phrase had meaning
or beauty, as he delivered it. Perhaps it is as idle to lament his
deficiencies, in comparison with artists like Belletti, for instance,
as to complain because the grand figures of Michel Angelo have not the
delicacy of finish that marks the sweetly insipid Venus de Medici. Of
the other solo performers in the oratorios it is not necessary for us to
speak, save to commend the fine voice and good style of Mrs. Harwood, a
rising singer, well known here, and whom the country, we hope, will know
in due time.

Another concert demands our attention, in which portions of a work by an
American composer were submitted to the test of public judgment. This we
must consider the most important musical event of the season; for great
singers, though surely not common among our English race, have not
been unknown; the ability to interpret God gives freely,--the power to
create, rarely. In any generation, probably not ten men arise who
write new melodies; of these, only a small proportion have either the
intellectual power or the aesthetic feeling to combine the subtile
elements of music into forms of lasting beauty. Most of them are
influenced by prevailing mannerisms, and their music is therefore
ephemeral, like the taste to which it ministers. Of all the composers
that have lived, probably not more than six or eight have attained to
an absolutely classic rank. These few are not in relations with any
temporary taste; their music might have been written to-day or a century
ago, and it will be as fresh a century hence. No one of the arts has had
fewer great masters. A new composer, therefore, has a right to claim our
attention. If, perchance, we discover that he has the gift of genius,
and is not merely a clever imitator, we cannot rejoice too much.

The work to which we allude is the opera "Omano,"--the libretto in
Italian by Signor Manetta, the music by Mr. L. H. Southard. We shall
not stop now to consider the question, whether American Art is to be
benefited by the production of operas in the Italian tongue; it is
enough to say, that, until we have native singers capa