not break and interrupt the unity and consistent action of the drama, should be the only musical work which has been distinguished by such constant and enduring marks of popular favour and approbation.  Another species of dramatic music, the cantabile of the Italians, is equally neglected among us.  The cantabile includes much of the most exquisite music of the Italian masters, and we know of nothing more touchingly beautiful, throughout the whole range of musical composition, than many of the andante cantabili of this school.  This, also, has been rarely attempted by the English masters, and their puny efforts will bear no comparison with the rich, graceful, flowing measure of the true Italian.

[Footnote 1:  No. cccxxvii, p. 137.]

All music is, in a greater or less degree, essentially dramatic.  Its beauty often depends, entirely, upon the fidelity and truth with which nature is followed.  Even instrumental music aims at dramatic effect, and fanciful incidents, and catastrophes are often suggested by the melodies and harmonies of a symphony, or concerto.  These creations of the imagination are in themselves a source of interest and delight, wholly different, in their nature, from the pleasure conferred by mere sounds.  How beautiful are the scenes, about to follow, depicted in the overtures to Der Freyschutz and Oberon; what wild diableries are not suggested by those wonderful compositions!  There are sounds of awful mystery, proceeding, as it were, now, from the dread rites of dark malignant beings of another world, now, from the mad frolics of mischievous and reckless imps; in the midst of which a stream of beauteous, gentle melody—­like a minister of grace—­breaks forth; now, gliding smoothly along, now, rushing on impetuously, or, broken and interrupted in its course, as though the powers of good and evil were striving for the mastery; and at length, as if the former were victorious in the strife, that melody again bursts forth, loud and expanded in the bold exulting tones of triumph, with which the imaginary scene is closed.

Similar observations might be made of many other pieces of instrumental music; but these effects depend upon the imagination of the hearer, there being no words to convey definite ideas to the mind.  In vocal music, where the words express no passion or emotion, the voice becomes little more than a mere instrument of the composer or the performer.  Now, the national music of our country is for the most part adapted to words of this description, and the anthem, the madrigal, and glee, are thus necessarily deficient in dramatic power and expression.  The glee has been described as “quelque chose bien triste,” and few but the fanatics of the school who have listened to a succession of glees, will, we think, deny the accuracy of the description.  The oratorio is often highly dramatic; but we have few, if any, oratorios of merit, of native production.  Our operas we have already designated as plays, with songs scattered about at random.  Thus, music of the highest class is rarely attempted in this country; and the neglect of the one great requisite of musical excellence, may have prevented our composers from assuming that rank, to which they might otherwise have shown themselves entitled.