THE maxim of the French milliner, Nothing so new as that which is forgotten, continually recurs in looking over long-laid-by music. The early works of CLEMENTI are as unknown to the present generation, his Octave Lesson excepted, as the sonatas of Scarlatti, or the concertos of Emmanuel Bach, yet a single page of almost any one of them contains as much as is to be found in half a dozen of the generality of modern compositions. The sonata we have here republished—raised, we may say, from the tomb—is, considered in every point of view, a master-piece, of surpassing beauty. What a sweet, intelligible melody flows through the whole of the first movement, and how admirably set off by the harmony! The slow movement is a model of deep expression, of grandeur, and of the sublime in music[21]; and the rondo is no less remarkable for air, for gaiety, than for ingenuity—for that kind of treatment which none but a musician of the highest order knows how to bestow on a subject. The Opera VII. of Clementi was first published in Vienna, upwards of fifty years ago. We have carried a few of the passages into the octave above; and in thus slightly altering the original, have, we are persuaded, only done what the author would have approved. When he composed the Three Sonatas of this set, the additional keys had never been dreamt of: the harpsichord, for which they were written, only reached F, an octave below the present highest note.

The Andante of PARADIES is from an edition of his XII Sonata di Gravicembalo, published about seventy years since in London,—a work which charmed our grandsires, but now still less known than the early sonatas of Clementi. The notation of this composer is sometimes perplexed, and difficult of comprehension to the mere modern musician; we have, therefore, reconciled it to the present improved manner of writing, but without altering a single note, except in appearance. This movement, selected from sonata IX. needs no eulogy; the melody sings from first to last bar, and the accompaniment is that of an able contrapuntist.

Pier Dominico Paradies was a Neapolitan, a pupil of Porpora, and lived many years in London, where he arrived in 1742, and composed some operas for the King’s Theatre when under the management of the Earl of Middlesex. He was in high repute as a master, and obtained more reputation for his harpsichord lessons than his vocal works.

The recitative, from the opera of Giuglio Cesare, is one of the finest pieces of musical eloquence that the art ever produced. Dr. Burney says of it[22], that when sung by Senesino, it produced an effect never before equalled; and at the Ancient Concert, some fifty years ago, Pacchierotti used to draw tears from his auditors by his pathetic manner of declaiming it. Were it newly accompanied, with the addition of those instruments which Handel had not at command, we feel quite sure that it would be still as effective as ever; nay, more so, in the hands of a Braham, who surely could express such sentiments with more force than a soprano ever had the power to give them. The poetry is by Haym, who wrote or compiled the drama for Handel, in 1724, the year in which it was first produced at the King’s Theatre.

Dr. Burney[23] gives the following free translation of this recitative:—

It now appears for the first time with a piano-forte accompaniment. The story of this opera is from the third and fourth books of CÆsar’s Commentaries, Dion. Cassius, book xiii., and Plutarch’s Lives.

The gentle and sweet aria, ‘Piangero,’ though from the same opera, is not connected with the recitative, but was generally sung after it in the concerts. There is a second movement to this, which, however suited to the character to whom it is given in the drama, is not in unison with the music of the first part, nor does it follow well such a recitative, therefore was seldom performed, except on the stage; and we have omitted it altogether.

The arietta of KEISER is from a German opera, (which, however, has also an Italian title, La forza della VirtÙ,) published at Hamburg in 1701. This work, now lying before us, is uncommonly rare; we never saw or heard of another copy, in England at least. A treble and base only are printed, the latter sometimes figured, the former in the soprano clef, and being in the old German type, is not very easily decyphered. The merit of this air hardly admits of dispute, and, like all that is really good in art, has suffered nothing from the lapse of time. A remarkable circumstance connected with it is, that Handel, past all doubt, either intentionally or inadvertently,—most likely the former,—imitated it in his minuet in the overture to Samson. Whoever compares the two must see that the resemblance could not have arisen from one of those coincidences which are sometimes accidental.

Keiser, born at Weissenfels, in Saxony, about the year 1673, was the most distinguished composer of opera of his day; but how few, even of musicians, have ever heard his name pronounced! Burney says of him[24], ‘His compositions are more voluminous than those of old Scarlatti (Alessandro), and his melodies, though more than fifty years old, [i.e. in 1772] are such as would now be thought modern and graceful.’ Hasse assured Dr. Burney that Keiser was, ‘according to his conceptions, one of the greatest musicians the world ever saw[25].’

The words we have adapted to this air are from Ellis’s Specimens of the early English Poets. The accompaniment is given as faithfully as two bare lines of treble and base would allow, the latter being furnished by two figures (sixths) only.

The lovely song by Dr. Arne was composed in 1769, for Shakspeare’s Jubilee at Stratford-on-Avon. Garrick wrote the words, which, it must be confessed, are not so perfect as the music set to them. Lovely as is this air, we suspect that but few in the present day know of its existence. It has never before, we believe, appeared with a distinct accompaniment; and our copy of the song carries signs of having been published more than half a century ago.

Of Mr. Horncastle’s glee, composed purposely for this work, we will only say, that we have deemed it worthy of being associated with the music of this Number; and that if it had not been set in a light and simple manner, the composer would not have expressed the words in their true spirit.