COUNTRY CONCERTS : WITH A SKETCH OF THE YORKSHIRE, DILLETTANTI.
IF indifference and the love of money be the vices of town musicians, that inordinate self-appreciation, called egotism, is the disease of the country ones. It was but the other day, that an honest fellow (labouring, as we found by his letter, under a pro- digious polypus of self-esteem, but as to a knowledge of music, scarcely knowing B from a bull's foot, as the vulgar express themselves) sent us word that he intended to revise all the elm- Fusses of Handel and put fresh accompaniments! Truly it is hardly to be wondered at that a poor country practitioner, who never found any one on the moors and wealds of his native cows- ny to dispute with, or even jostle his pretensions, should be thus deluded with respect to the extent of his skill, when the most philosophic minds have been equally in thrall to the influence of a recluse life. It has been said of the author of " The Excursion," that, after repeating to sonic friends a passage of his own, and one of Homer, he gave the preference to the former. Whoever has had so comical an adventure in his experience, as to be present at one of those subscription concerts Nvhiell take place when the assizes or horse-races have put a town in commotion, will hardly desire us to trouble ourselves in proving that country amateurs over-estimate their powers. Instrumental music is the passion on these occasions, and that not of Pleyel, or Gyrowetz, or any of the jo.9,--trot, old-fashioned authors, but the new crack overtures of the Philharmonic Society, such as the " Euryanthe" of Weber, or the " Anacreon" of Cherubini. The admission-money is about five shillings, but by far too little for the rich entertain- ment which is fureished. First enters a doctor of music, dressed in black, armed with his fiddle, and accoutred with an egregiously thick-soled pair of top-boots, for the purpose of stamping the time; then the rest of the band, consisting of apothecaries, lawyers, parsons, fox-hunting squires, amateur tradesmen, and a few dragoons for the wind instruments. The company all seat them- selves, and wait for the exhibition of that generous laxity of time, and noble superiority to tune, which is the order of the day. We shall attempt to describe the overture to "Emyanthe" as we heard it, which is one, everybody knows, that puts the Philharmonic people on their metal. As we, (the writer of this article) were novices, and had, upon this occasion, the honour to play principal second violin, we hail the better opportunity of noticing the leader. The Doctor led off with great fire, but we had hardly got on a dozen bars before the wavering of the time became palpable ; and turning his head with a snappish tone to his aid-de-camp, he said quickly, " Whip up, Jenkins!" Then with an inward groan, "Aim there's Thompson wrong, and .Jones a mile before !" then with a suppressed despair ejaculated, " Oh, damme we shall all he out !" This pre- diction was quickly realized, when a vigorous rapping of the Doctor's bow on the music-desk, emancipated us from the misrule and anarchy which had overwhelmed us. Being town-bred, we began to think that the ladies among the audience would laugh at the futility of this our first attempt, but we were wrong in our conjecture ; their bosoms overflowed with charity and benevolence, and the Yorkshire dames seemed silently to say, " When gentlemen fail once, the best plan is to try again." As soon as we had col- lected our scattered forces, at it we went a second time ; but with no better success : we indeed approached nearer to the end of the overture than at first, but broke down as the professional phrase goes, without reaching it. Here the Doctor, in a profuse perspira- tion \vial stamping, threw himself into his chair, wiped his thee with a pocket handkerchief, sucked in the air with a long sigh, and retaining a considerable portion of it in his putied cheeks, lie began gradually to let it out again, making the orifice of his mouth very small. The bumpkins now began to console themselves with a prospect of the approaching consummation of the overt ore iii their next attempt: " That ha' un this time, howsomever, i\least Thompson : what a woundy Chace the Doctor led us ' All this thne not a ]limit of disapprobation escaped from our large audience but as we have since found that it was composed chiefly of the wires, no- filers, aunts, nieces, &c. of the orchestral gentlemen, the fear of pos- terioral discipline with a cudgel or broomstick may have controlled the expression of their opinions. The third time the destinies were more favourable. Aster the pious invocation of the Sisters three, with diligent prompting, strenuous exertions, infuriated stamping, and unctuous visages, we came to the end of the Envy- anthe overture, amid the applause and congratulation of the
whole room. Now, notwithstanding the awkward eflA2ct which it has to fail in any matter of sleight-of-hand, it is remarkable that these people plumed themselves as much upon their performane as though they had committed something less than deliberate murder. They sunk the two failures in the glory of the final accomplishment. They had played what Mori and De Beriot play, not quite so well, perhaps, but that was owing to circumstances. From the beginning to the end of the chapter, we must say that amateur instrumentalists, and especially violin players, from the moment tiny take the bow in their hand, forget that they have anything else to do besides ape the fashionable players. Love of music goes with them for nothing, but admiration of themselves for a great deal. 'Mori and De Beriot should remember, if they despise the quartetts of Haydn and Mozart, that Hawkins of Newcastle does the same, and Jackson of Hull ; as tor Squire Jones, he has a great contempt for all music hut lidayseder's,
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