TO THE EDITOR OF THE MUSICAL TIMES.' SIR,-I wish I could agree with Dr. Grattan Flood and Mr. Froggatt that the instrument depicted on the Ullard Cross represents a harp without a fore-pillar,' for, as being unique in Britain, it would be of far greater interest to musical antiquaries. But I cannot make it out to be so, because, when standing beneath the Cross and looking up at the ancient sculpture, the swell of the front support or pillar is quite evident, even more so than in the direct photograph; that is why it appears so distinctly in a rubbing. I admit that it is not so robust a feature as the upper curve or head, and in the actual instrument that would not be necessary; for the head carried the tuning pins and required depth and solidity, but the front support needed only sufficient stiffness to keep the upper and lower ends of the instrument from drawing together under the straight tension of the strings, which was also relieved by the soundboard, which partially covered the back. (See Brit. Mus. MSS. Vit. F. xi.)

My remarks must have been misunderstood if it was thought that I admitted that the earliest Irish 'harps' wanted the fore pillar, for I have no reason at all to believe it; nor can I allow that names matter little,' when the wrong application of names causes more worry and trouble to the conscientious investigator than anything else.

Let my correspondents compare the accompanying photograph one of the excellent series I obtained at Ullard-with the engraving in Bunting's book: they will observe that the short vertical piece, shown by him at the bottom of the instrument to the right, is undoubtedly continued upward to the wedged-shaped incision in the head above, which in the Brit. Mus. MS. (already referred to) is represented as a dragon's open mouth. This line, from its position, cannot be a string, but is either a front support or the outer side of a soundboard covering the whole back of the instrument, of which the somewhat mutilated carving on the Ballyogan Cross at Duiske Abbey seems to afford an example.

To put a practical question, which I am sure my hospitable friend, Mr. Patrick O'Leary (whom I discovered after my researches at Ullard), will appreciate, How were these C or E shaped instruments playable without some support between the upper and lower parts of the frame? Sir Samuel Ferguson had his doubts, and, in a letter to Dr. Petrie, thus expressed them: If it be a harp he plays, how could the strings be fastened as they would seem to be on such a frame? And with this I entirely agree. For though the ancient Assyrian and Egyptian harps were without the front pillar, like the present Soung of Burmah and the Nanga of N. Africa, they either still retained the shape of the hunting bow from which they were derived, or assumed the form of an acute angle, being composed of a stiff rod inserted firmly into a hollow sound-box, between which the strings were stretched so far as the resistance of the frame permitted. With camel-gut or horse-hair strings a certain amount of tension is possible, though even then the unsupported ends have a tendency to draw together; but

tension on such a frame is impracticable. In my attempt to explain the true character of these ancient carvings therefore, I am only desirous of showing that the Keltic sculptors did not portray impossible instruments, but correct representations of their historic Crots. As for the example on the Durrow Cross, Dr. Grattan Flood, in his Story of the Harp,' calls it a six-stringed cruit with a bridge and a bow': here I think he is right (except for the bow). But when he asserts--as he now does-that it is a triangular harp like that at Nigg in Scotland, I cannot believe him. Those interested can see fine illustrations of the Durrow and other crosses in Miss Margaret Stokes's High Crosses of Durrow and Castledermot,' all showing a front support to the instrument.

The allusion to the harp in the famous 10th century MS. of Caedmon's Paraphrase (Bodleian Library, Oxford) is unfortunate, for the MS. is recognised English work. It was written and illuminated three hundred years after Caedmon's

day; and we are expressly told by his contemporary, Bede, that Caedmon did not play the harp-of course not, good Kelt that he was. In conclusion, may I remind my correspondents that my lecture and paper were on the origin of the Clarsech, and any differences of opinion we may have as to the construction of these quadrangular Crots cannot affect my main conclusion-that the triangular Irish harp, which we know as the Clarsech, owes its origin to the Northern or Scandinavian instrument, Gerbert's 'Cythara Anglica.'

Thanking you, Sir, for your courtesy in allowing me so full a reply. Yours faithfully, FRANCIS W. GALPIN.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE MUSICAL TIMES.' SIR, Mr. Corder's letter in your March issue deserves an answer from me, if only on account of its extremely courteous manner of controversy. I say if only' because, when one man states a firm conviction clearly and a second man denies it in toto, there is generally little profit in prolonging the mutual contradictions. But Mr. Corder gives chapter and

verse for his beliefs, and gives them with such absence of irritation that I believe he may be interested in knowing why his premises are not universally accepted. Mr. Corder's case is-I hope I put it fairly-(1) that everything which we learn (until originality appears at the age of forty) is learnt from some one else; (2) that we begin to make for progress at the point where the last progressive left off; and (3) that originality manifests itself so late in life (with Beethoven and Wagner at forty, with Verdi at sixty) that the previous years are best spent in assimilating and modelling on the best work of the great men. These three propositions are, I think, just nductions from Mr. Corder's argument.

Now with the backbone of this argument I do, of course, agree. It is simply the doctrine of evolution-that progress is continuous, from an inferior to a superior condition. I desire such progress as strongly as anyone. But I conceive it is being retarded in England because of the tendencies of the two teachers who get the pick of the talented pupils. The one tends to make pupils write like Beethoven and Brahms, till, as I maintain, their individuality is strangled; the other to make pupils so extraordinarily skilful in technique that they can write exactly like anyone whose name you may take out of a hat.

Mr. Corder chooses a literary parallel and asks if I did not learn to sayda-da' from my mother. Certainly, and from ner also I learnt my notes. We must all learn the axioms and conditions of any subject from another person, and that point is not in the issue. The question is, What is the best method of fostering my originality if I decide to aim at creative work? Would Mr. Corder approve of a young man who showed real promise as a creator in literature being set the task of writing passages of English in the style of Milton, Shakespeare, Ruskin, Carlyle, Walter Pater, and Stevenson-still less in that of one only of them? Assuming as a miracle that he says 'yes,' and prefers the one exclusive model, then what writer will he nominate ? Is it to be an old writer, or the biggest discoverable recent one, or one somewhere between the two? Surely what a man has to say is so indissolubly linked with his manner of saying it, that if we had taken Ruskin and Walter Pater and forced them to do exercises in the manner of Macaulay (or anyone else) till the age of forty, then we should almost certainly have lacked in English literature the priceless aroma of two beautiful styles. Yet countless composition students of to-day are glutted with Beethoven in season and out of season, and Sir Charles Stanford declares it is the only way to get at the root of the matter.' Beethoven, Sir, may be as great as ten Shakespeares ; but neither the one nor the other is the last word in his art, and the man who is going to take us nearer heaven in music or literature has not got to begin where these two giants left off.

The root of my complaint against this school of teaching, then, is that it destroys the laws of evolution by ignoring continuity; and I claim that the same charge holds against the 'technique' school. You may analyse the work of Strauss, Ravel, Debussy and even (if you can) of that arch-humorist Schönberg; and with a master who is a genius you may learn (as Mr. Corder's pupils learn) to write like any one of them. But the essence of evolution is grafting, and I have heard no English composition of this school, though some of its representatives must be nearly forty, which shows any clear sign of having enlarged the mainland by the acquisition and absorption of new territory. But perhaps they are waiting until they are sixty ?-Yours faithfully,

YOUR REVIEWER.

PRESENTATION TO MR. ALBERT VISETTI. On March 19, Mr. Albert Visetti, the well-known professor of singing, was presented with a bronze bust of himself executed by Mr. Leonard Merryfield. The presentation, which took place at the Royal College of Music, was made on behalf of numerous past and present pupils, to whom the distinguished professor had endeared himself. The address in the album accompanying the bust was signed by Madame Kirkby Lunn, Miss Phyllis Lett, Miss Agnes Nicholls, and many other well-known singers. Sir Hubert Parry made the presentation on behalf of the subscribers.

Obituary.

ALBERT LISTER PEACE,

Born January 26, 1844, died March 14, 1912. We much regret to have to record the death of the eminent organist, Dr. Albert Lister Peace, which took place at his residence, 'Dalmore,' Merrilocks Road, Blundellsands, Liverpool, on March 14. He had been ill for ten days, and the end was sudden. His last recital was given at St. George's Hall, Liverpool, on March 2.

Dr. Peace was born at Huddersfield, on January 26, 1844. When he was in his ninth year he became organist of the Parish Church of Holmfirth. Later he served in this capacity at Springfield Chapel, Dewsbury; St. Thomas's Church, Huddersfield; Brunswick Street Chapel, Huddersfield; Providence Place Chapel, Cleckheaton. In 1865 he removed to Glasgow, and became organist of Trinity Congregational Church, Glasgow, and in 1870 he became organist to the University. In 1878 he was elected to Glasgow Cathedral. He took his Mus. Bac. degree at Oxford in 1870, and the Mus. Doc. degree in 1875. In 1897 he succeeded the late Mr. W. T. Best as city organist to Liverpool, a post that involved regular recitals on the fine

organ of St. George's Hall. His great executive powers led to extensive demands for his services all over the Kingdom, and he now became one of the most famous solo players of his day. Although he was chiefly celebrated as an executant, he made some worthy contributions to organ literature. Amongst his compositions for the instrument there are three sonatas, two concert fantasies, and some service music, and many organ arrangements. A book of organ recital programme notes reveal his capacity as an analyst and critic. We regret also to have to report the following deaths:

Mr. JOHN LARGE, on March 14, at Tottenham, in his seventieth year. He was once the possessor of a pure, counter-tenor voice said to have been without a rival in the country. He was a lay-vicar at Westminster Abbey from 1875 to 1878, afterwards returning and retaining his connection until a few years ago.

Miss KATE WYNNE (Mrs. Henry Matthison), of New Westminster, British Columbia, a favourite contralto vocalist in Liverpool and Wales a generation ago, on March 9. She was a sister of Madame Edith Wynne, the well-known singer, and of Mr. Llewellyn Wynne, secretary of the Liverpool

Welsh Choral Union.

Mr. MAX BLUME, the well-known teacher of the pianoforte, at Harrogate, on January 27. He was born in 1849, received his chief musical education at Leipsic, and after serving in the army during the Franco-Prussian War, came to Harrogate in 1872.

Mr. JOHN WILLIAM PARKER, of Hessle House, Ewell, Surrey, on February 5, at the age of seventy-eight. He was a pupil and life-long friend of the late Dr. E. J. Hopkins. From 1876 to 1883, Mr. Parker was organist of Ewell Parish Church, and formerly was at Gray's Inn Chapel.

Mr. JOHN MAUDE CRAMENT, Mus. Bac. Oxon., on March 4, aged sixty-six. He was organist and choirmaster of St. Paul's, Vicarage-gate, Kensington, had conducted several Societies, and was an assiduous composer.

SIR ALEXANDER MACKENZIE ON LISZT. The second and third of the lectures given by Sir Alexander Mackenzie, at the Royal Institution, which took place on February 10 and 17, were on the subject of Liszt. By his long personal acquaintance and friendship with Liszt, Sir Alexander was well qualified to describe his life and life-work with sympathy and insight, and to throw many illuminating sidelights upon his character. From the quantity of interesting matter with which the lecturer compelled his hearers' attention from start to finish it is difficult to devise a summary or to pick a selection. The familiar biography was outlined by comment rather than by

statement.

In treating of Liszt's boyhood the lecturer produced a curiosity in the shape of the first edition, published in 1823,

of the set of Variations which Diabelli induced a number of well-known men to write upon a waltz of his own composition. Variation No. 9 was by Liszt, then a boy of eleven. Beethoven, Hummel, Czerny, and Moscheles made contributions, that of Beethoven being afterwards expanded into the famous thirty-three.'

The frequent visits to London made by Liszt during adolescence, and his growing distaste for the life of a virtuoso, introduced the period when the fierce opposition which has raged round the name of Liszt, until recently, began to manifest itself in both England and Germany. By this time (1840) Liszt had opened up a

new

era in pianoforte playing, by the publication of his transcription of Paganini's Capricii for violin in the first instance, transcriptions of Beethoven and Berlioz Symphonies and Schubert songs, the Années de Pélerinage,' 'Grandes études,' and other original works. I am of opinion,' the lecturer said, 'that these operatic and other fantasies, with their amazing invention of passage-work, their ingenious dovetailing of themes, and their inexhaustible fancy, are efforts of genius, although many of them have gone out of vogue along with their subjects. Most of them owe their existence to the fact that it was his amiable habit of offering them as musical homage to the prominent composers of the countries he happened to be in. Some were written with the deliberate intention of popularising the music of comparatively unknown composers.' Sir Alexander then proceeded to deal with the songs that belong to this period. Before turning to Liszt's life at Weimar after his permanent abandonment of the concert-platform, the lecturer pointed out the usefulness to art of his virtuoso career: 'Before opening a new volume let us remember that he had been carrying the fame of the greatest dead and living composers of his time into every country. The reputation of some of them was purely local-Berlioz and Chopin in Paris, Schumann in Leipsic, not to speak of Beethoven (the spread of whose fame was his special care), Schubert and Weber. Liszt was the only one who persistently brought the names of his contemporaries before the public during his meteoric flights. This was done without a break for twenty years.'

Coming to the Weimar period, the lecturer was naturally brought to the consideration of Liszt's discovery and advocacy of Wagner's works, in which he had practically the whole world against him.' A number of historical incidents and extracts from correspondence exemplified Liszt's generosity and patience in these relations, and his extraordinary forbearance under the obloquy which his sacrifices to Wagner brought upon him. One of his letters

to Wagner has an additional interest with regard to his own compositions: 'I have had to hear and read so much about them that I have no opinion on the subject, and continue to work only from persistent inner conviction and without any claims to recognition or approval. Several of my intimate friends, for example Joachim, and formerly Schumann and others, have shown themselves strange, doubtful and unfavourable towards my musical creations. I owe them no grudge on that account, and cannot retaliate because I take a sincere and comprehensive interest in their work.'

'Liszt came to Weimar,' said Sir Alexander, with a couple of personal projects in his mind. One was the completion of a Symphony inspired by Dante. The other was the development of a new art-form, the Symphonicpoem, for the first example of which he had already chosen his subject from Victor Hugo. Sneers at the idea of his wanting to compose at all, and doubts as to his ability either to score for or to conduct an orchestra, were freely distributed. That he could do these things supremely well was very soon 'As each of the twelve Symphonic-poems appeared, hostile criticism was liberally poured upon it. But proved.' while he strongly resented any depreciation of Wagner's compositions, he took all that was levelled against his own almost as a matter of course. became more and more strained and disagreeable. Briefly, the situation His influence at the small Court gradually waned, and the turbulent Weimar period closed amid the perfect charivari of cat-calls and abuse which attended the production of the opera of his friend and pupil, Peter Cornelius, "The Barber of Bagdad."

The lecturer here entered into an interesting review of the great secular works written by Liszt during his Weimar period, and the sacred works that followed upon his retirement and entry into the Church.

He then described the complete change that had come over the situation during the seven years of retirement. Wagner had conquered; his own progressive tendencies in every direction were at last accepted, and above all his inspiring presence was greatly missed. "Everything awaits you here," wrote the Duke from Weimar: a little house was prepared for him, and there he lived for a certain number of months each year, surrounded by eager pupils and friends. The last chapter, as he called it, was devoted to tuition, the encouragement of his youngsters, looking over their manuscripts, assisting them by advice and solid help to positions in life. "If I do anything for myself," he once said to me, "it is in the very early morning," and as a matter of fact he was at his desk at four o'clock in the morning in summertime. During these years he lived a life of utmost simplicity. Probably his entire income could hardly have represented more than £400 per annum ! Yet when he travelled with his pupils their expenses were invariably paid by himself!'

Sir Alexander then devoted a section of his lecture to the persistent and devoted efforts on behalf of Liszt's works made in England by his friend and pupil, Walter Bache: 'the one doughty champion here, who carried on the fight, against overpowering odds, fearlessly and with unquenchable ardour.' For exhibition at both lectures, many interesting portraits, relics, and manuscripts were generously lent by his sister, Miss Margaret Bache.

Although every aspect of Liszt's career and works was dealt with in an individual and arresting manner, the most notable portion of the lectures arose out of Sir Alexander Mackenzie's personal contact with the master. Speaking of the time when the Weimar period was drawing to a close, and referring to his boyhood spent in Sondershausen (Schwarzburg), he said, 'It is odd that two small ducal residences, almost marching upon each other, should have been the centres of all that was new in music at the time. Famous concerts took place at Sondershausen on Sunday afternoons in the open air, in a park called the "Loh," and I remember well that pilgrims interested in the movement came from Leipsic (the enemy's camp) and other places to hear the musica proibita, not without considerable sacrifice of comfort, for the railways stopped at Nordhausen, a long way off. Well, I took a humble part in the performance of many of these startling works, among others the Prelude to "Tristan," both of Berlioz's Symphonies, and the tonepoems of Liszt. The very last piece I rehearsed was the

"Faust" Symphony, almost fresh from the printers. After this I came to the R.A. M. here, where in those days, it need hardly be said, "they knew not Joseph.' Sir Alexander described Liszt's appearance when he first saw him at the end of 1859. They did not actually meet until about 1879. The lecturer said: 'My first meeting with him in Florence was not exactly a propitious one for me, but as the little story only serves to throw a stronger light upon the man's boundless good-nature, I may tell it.

'The present_occupant of the Chair of Music in the University of Edinburgh, Professor Niecks, was then gathering material for his justly famous "Life of Chopin,' and had had some months previously several interviews with Liszt in Weimar, when Liszt amiably gave him much valuable information. My friend, Dr. Niecks, requested me to ask Liszt a question or two, in order to fill up some trifling blanks. When I ventured to approach Liszt on the subject he was evidently ruffled, and dismissed it curtly and glowered at me. But much worse was to follow at the luncheon table shortly afterwards, when I was telling a musical anecdote to some of my neighbours, who were amused, and laughed. Now Liszt, sitting opposite, had caught the name of his adored pupil, Tausig, and, completely misunderstanding the drift of what I had been saying, said sharply, "No, Tausig would never have done that.' Our host, who had heard it all, at once defended me : "But, Master, Mackenzie never said anything of the sort." Thereupon Liszt leaned forward and apologised: "I am sorry I misunderstood; you must excuse me, I am a little deaf." But all the same he did not thaw, and seemed put out when he left us to pay some visits. So was I. Although it was understood that I was to join the company at supper, I thought discretion the better part of valour, and stayed away. My surprise was great when, during the course of the evening, I received a hasty message from Madame Hillebrand (our hostess) to Come up immediately. Liszt has been asking for you several times.' I say "come up," because I lived on the floor immediately beneath.

66

'Now comes the point of the story. The good old Master had evidently been thinking it over, had come to the conclusion that he had done me an injustice, and consequently had been tormenting himself for the rest of the afternoon.

'It seems that almost his first words on entering the drawing-room were "Wo ist der Schotte?" (Where is the Scotchman?) "I want to see his music." "Well, yes, certainly, Master, but better wait until after supper." But he persisted; and nothing would serve until a four-hand edition of a couple of my then recently published Scottish Rhapsodies was produced, and the first one played. After this he went to supper, but no sooner was the meal over than he insisted upon playing the other one; hence the message. And when I arrived upon the scene I found his two celebrated pupils, Sophie Menter and Buonamici, at work on No. 2, with Liszt beside them turning over the pages.

. . . I have every reason to believe that these incidents had a considerable influence upon his acceptance of the invitation from Mr. Littleton and Walter Bache to come to

London.

On several occasions his friend and champion, Bache, had pressed him to visit London, but Liszt had always gently declined. When the final invitation to be present at a performance of "St. Elizabeth" by the Novello Choir was offered he wrote, among other things, "I will come, I owe him something" (Ich schulde Ihm etwas). Now, he owed me nothing! But in all this you have the character of this extraordinary man; castigating himself, as it were, for a fancied slight to a young musician of no account whatever. 'I remember one morning walking about alone with him in the large conservatory at Westwood House (Sydenham), where stood the famous Roubilliac statue of Handel. He stopped before it with a "Hah! the old man!" as if recognising an acquaintance. "I used to know a Fugue of his: it is thirty years since I played it: let me see, it began so"-and he finished the piece without further effort.

'Fortunate were they who had a chance of catching him in those moods!'

In his concluding remarks Sir Alexander said: 'Hungarian Liszt's artistic standard should not be measured with a German tape. He belonged to a race endowed with different-almost opposite-characteristics.

'During the years of travel, when he so early in life" was found guilty of success (as Carlyle puts it), he acquired the widest outlook, and learned to appreciate the essential qualities of the music of many lands. But the resulting sympathy and eclectic generosity of thought seem not to have been accounted to his credit by the Chauvinists of his day. Whatever changes in music he wrought-and they are many-he never sought to destroy anything. He added and built, logically lengthening the identical lines which Beethoven was drawing in his latest and greatest works. What Liszt did evidently came to stay: it has remained to inspire many men who have carried those lines much further. "On the whole it is a tardy recognition which the Master receives a quarter of a century after death. Even now, I venture to say, there are some great works-such as "Christus," for one-which have as yet either been inadequately presented, or are still unknown to the public and to a large number of musicians.

'My pleasant and grateful task has been to offer you some faint idea of the vast extent of the life-labour, of the nature, the nobility and modesty of a great genius, whom to know was to love.'

The lecture on Russian music' had the enthusiastic co-operation of the Hans Wessely String Quartette; and in connection with the subject now under notice, the following illustrations of Liszt's music were given by students of the Royal Academy of Music:

The 137th Psalm (1862) for soprano solo (Miss Betty
Hyde), female choir, violin, pianoforte, and harp.
Pianoforte solos :

'Venezia e Napoli,' No. 3. Tarantella (1839).
Nos. 2 and 3 from Three concert studies' (1849).
(a) Allegro affettuoso. (b) La leggierezza.
Miss Evelyn Dawkin.

Transcription of Weber's Schlummerlied ' (1849).
Mr. Arthur Alexander.

Songs:

'Schwebe, schwebe, blaues Auge' (1842). Comment disaient-ils' (1842).

'Wie singt die Lerche schön' (1855). 'Wo weilt Er?' (1842).

Miss Marjorie Walker.

'ELIJAH' ON THE STAGE: ORATORIO AS MUSIC-DRAMA.

BY FRANCIS E. BARRETT.

The removal of the ban placed by the Lord Chamberlain on the representation of works of sacred import on the stage has made it possible to carry out a plan of giving Mendelssohn's oratorio of Elijah' as a music-drama. The work was made ready for the purpose some years ago by Mr. Harrison Frewin, and in February it was given by the Moody-Manners Opera Company at Kelly's Theatre, dramatic instinct of Mendelssohn that his oratorio requires Liverpool. It is a very remarkable testimony to the no alteration for the purpose of the stage. All that has been necessary is the omission of some of the choruses on the score of length, and an augmentation of the scene in which Jezebel incites the people to slaughter Elijah. As this portion of the work stood in the original it was felt that it was somewhat abrupt, and Mr. Frewin, after devising some words suitable to the situation, went to Mendelssohn for the music. He adapted part of the unfinished opera of 'Loreley' for the purpose. For the necessary entr'actes he also introduced some from the Italian Symphony, which is used as an introduction Mendelssohn numbers, the chief of them being the Andante to the last Act, and serves to describe Elijah's journey to the wilderness, the last scene of the music-drama. These are chorus, Then did Elijah,' is made to conclude the work the most considerable additions to the stage version. The logically, as the sequential numbers are more or less in the

nature of an anticlimax. The oratorio is divided into three Acts, the first concluding with the injunction to Elijah to visit the Widow. The scene at the Widow's cottage at Zarapath is next given. The scene outside the Temple of Baal, the sacrifices, the coming of fire and of rain form the next Act. The third consists of the address to the people (Continued on page 254.)