that their expressiveness depends on this. Whence it follows, that musical phrases and the melodies built of them, can be effective only when they are in harmony with these general principles. It is difficult here. properly to illustrate this position. But perhaps it will suffice to instance the swarms of worthless ballads that infest drawing-roons, as compositions which science would forbid. They sin against science by setting to music ideas that are not emotional enough to prompt musical expression; and they also sin against science by using musical phrases that have no relation to the ideas expressed—even when these are emotional. They are bad, because they are untrue. And to say they are untrue, is to say that they are unscientific." We have italicised the above sentence for the purpose of calling to it the especial attention of musical critics and writers. In view of the above extract it may be asked, perhaps, Is science sufficient to produce an artist? To this it may be answered, No. A true artist must be gifted by nature as such. The ability to become an artist must be inborn, for an artist must be born, not made. "What we assert," says Spencer, "is, that innate faculty alone will not suffice; but it must have the aid of organized knowledge. Intuition will do much, but it will not do all. Only when genius is married to science can the highest result be produced."

MUSICAL RECEIPTS.

(From Lee & Walker's Musical Almanac for 1861, Edited by Charles Grobe.) TO MAKE A PIANO-FORTE PIECE.-Take a number of melodies, which have been previously well ground. Be careful, at commencing, to have plenty of milk and water, which you must boil up gradually, until it begins to bubble and make a confused rumbling noise. Wait till it has subsided a little, and then put in your melodies one by one. Add a little seasoning, and when they are all done quite through, begin to thicken by degrees, and stir them well up together. When it begins to run over, it is time to turn it out. Serve up hot.

TO MAKE A FASHIONABLE BALLAD.-Having procured some words, pick them to pieces and pare them down to your liking. Then spread them out upon a sheet of paper, and take a handful of sweet passages (which all good cooks keep by them in a drawer), and sprinkle them over the paper. Add as much spice as will lie upon two shillings, and garnish with a little embellishment you can think of.

TO MAKE A FUGUE.-In the composition of this dish, you must take care to keep all the ingredients very dry. This rule was not observed by the great Bach, who almost originated this species of viand, but since his day, it has been so uniformly followed, that it appears now to be positively necessary in order to insure its goodness.

We imagine that all musical cooks are aware that the Subject, the Answer, the Countersubject, the Stretto, and the Pedal, are indispensable requisites for this dish-and, as our space will not allow us to give rules for all these matters, we beg to refer them, should they be at all at fault, to the great authority, Cherubini. It is, however, essential that your answer should be quite ready to pop in as soon as your subject is thoroughly done, and if you follow the rules laid down by Cherubini, you cannot go wrong. If your fugue be without flavor, and the company complain, tell them that they have no judgment in these things, and ask if they would wish to shut out from their tables a dish so universally esteemed by men of taste. You will find that people will often praise a bad fugue, because Bach has produced so many good

ones.

TO MAKE A FLUTE SOLO.-First catch your air; then cut off any superfluous portions which would at all interfere with its appearance when dished up. Put it in at first whole, and when you think it is quite ready, cut it into very small pieces, and roll them into sheets of paper. Let them all simmer together until they are done to rags. Then serve up directly. A few plain chords will be found the best accompaniment. You may serve solos for the Clarionet in the same way. Observation.-Some cooks make the airs for themselves, instead of procuring them ready made; but in this case they are never properly

seasoned, and you cannot be certain that they will be relished by the company.

TO MAKE A LIBRETTO.-The modern poet should completely abstain from reading the ancient writers, for this reason, that the ancient writers never read the moderns. Before entering upon his task he will take an exact note of the quantity and quality of the scenes which the manager is desirous of introducing into his drama. He will compose his poem verse by verse, without giving himself any trouble as to the action, in order that it may be impossible for the spectator to comprehend the plot, and that curiosity may thus be kept alive to the end of the piece. By the way, he will not forget to close the piece with a brilliant and magnificent scene, terminating with a good chorus in honor of the sun, the moon, or the manager. He will have recourse as frequently as possible to the dagger to poison, to earthquakes, spectres, and incantaproduce a prodigious effect on the public. tions. All these expedients are admirable; they cost but little, and

FREE THOUGHTS ON SEVERAL EMINENT COMPOSERS.

BY CHARLES LAMB.

Some cry up Haydn, some Mozart

Just as the whim bites. For my part,

I do not care a farthing candle
For neither of them, nor for Handel.
Cannot a man live free and easy,
Without admiring Pergolesi?

Or through the world with comfort go,
That never heard of Doctor Blow?
So help me heaven, I hardly have;
And yet I eat, and drink and shave,
Like other people, if you watch it,

And know no more of stave or crochet
Than did the primitive Peruvians,

Or those old anti queer diluvians

That lived in the unwashed world with Tubal,

Before that dirty blacksmith, Jubal,

By stroke on anvil, or by summ'at

Found out to his great surprise the gamut.

I care no more for Cimarosa

Than he did for Salvator Rosa,
Being no painter; and bad luck
Be mine if I can bear that Gluck.
Old Tycho Brahe and moderu Herschell
Had something in 'em; but who's Purcell ?
The d
with his foot cloven,

For aught I care may take Beethoven;
And, if the bargain does not suit,
I'll throw him Weber in to boot.
There's not the splitting of a splinter

To choose 'twixt him last named and Winter.
Of Doctor Pepusch, old Queen Dido
Knew just as much, God knows, as I do.
I would not go four miles to visit
Sebastian Bach-(or Batch-which is it?)
No more I would for Bononciui:
As for Novello and Rossini,

I shall not say a word to grieve 'em,
Because they're living-so I leave them.

Our Musical Correspondence.

IOWA CITY, IOWA.

I AM much pleased with the letter from Le Raysville in your last. It expresses my views exactly on the subject of descriptions of musical conventions and their conductors. The first musical convention ever holden here, took place last month under the direction of Mr. Root, and its success was so gratifying and complete in all respects, and it excited so enthusiastic an interest in our co rmunity, among both singers and listeners, that I sat down to tell you about it; but here the difficulty mentioned by your Le Raysville