Taleo, ou la Chasse au Renard; Rondo pour le Piano Forte, compose pour Mademoiselle Ansley, par F. Kalkbrenner. London. Chappell and Co. Clementi and Co.

Storms and battles, with all their dread accompaniments, have long been considered as legitimate subjects for musical imitation; and here, said we in an under tone-here we have a fox chase! But to commence with an adagio! Pour MADEMOISELLE ANSLEY! Aha! we continued to whisper, MR. KALKBRENNER has no doubt read how SoгHIA WESTERN was wont to thrum her father to sleep after a hard run with Old Sir Simon the King and Bobbing Joan, or he has heard that the lady of the most celebrated fox-hunter in

shire reads her husband to repose, and he means to supersede these coarse or common somniferous expedients, to image the past scenes of the day and conduct the sportsman to the realms of Morpheus amid the prolonged recollections of the chase. This appeared to us an exceedingly lucky thought-but though abundantly praiseworthy, it struck us to be a little out of MR. KALKBRENNER'S regular beat, to apply a sporting phrase. Thus we found ourselves setting off, full cry, in conjectural criticism.

But, upon practical investigation, we found a lively and not inexpressive sonata. If however there be any intentional imitation, we must find it in the allowed expedient (as old at least as MICHAEL KELLY'S "I see them galloping," in Blue Beard,) of representing the pace of horses by triplets-of cheering the hounds by the high notes in pages 2, 8, 9, & 10, (succeeded by the way by passages from the Guaracca dance). Page 4 is an appropriate hunting air, bearing resemblance to the sounds of the horn. The chromatic passages in page 5, we presume are intended to picture the terrors of some poor wretch who, like the Frenchman, was ready to exclaim, on finding his steed prepare for a leap, "I leave all to my wife”—or the more perfect miseries of those who lay bruised and battered at the bottom of a ditch, or of some hardier wight, who crawls forth and again joins the chase—

"Nor heeds the brown dishonours of his face."

To these succeed passages of reiterated notes, to convey the notion of the cry of the pack, like "yo-yo-yo-yo-yo," and the composer

may perhaps have borrowed an idea from the often-quoted passage* of SHAKESPEARE, for he introduces different notes to express the same image. An adagio follows, which probably is meant to carry the delays of a strong country, a miry bottom, or the bounds at fault. But off we go again, piu allegro, into a merry gallop, interspersed with cheering the dogs to the end. Whether the fox is lost, killed, or run to earth, heaven alone knows, for the composer, no doubt, considers it wisest to permit every gentleman to steer his own course home, and conclude the hunt according to his proper taste.

MR. KALKBRENNER being a foreigner, and not even acquainted, as it should seem, with the orthography of the word (TALLY-HO) he takes for his title, we have thus endeavoured to supply those parts of the story which he has left untold, and have translated the said title and the music for "the use of country gentlemen," whose grateful ac, knowledgments we expect for our labours; but they have also, be it not forgotten, to thank the composer for a lively and pleasing sonata, which, when imagination is exalted by a few bottles of port, may be successfully employed by an experienced performer especially, to protract their joys, whether they slumber with their eyes shut or open. We anticipate, moreover, a large accession to our subscribers from the wives, daughters, nieces, cousins, and governesses, of all classes of fox-hunters whatsoever, in simple gratitude for the power we have bestowed upon them of prolonging the unwearying delight, without the trouble of telling or the patience of hearing long stories of celebrated fox-chases. These ladies have probably observed, as well as ourselves, that the temper of true, sportsmen is admirably preserved by being engaged, either actively or passively, in such recollections. For the future then they have nothing to do but cry Hark to KALKBRENNER! and open [upon] the piano forte.

*My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,
So flew'd, so sanded; and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
Crook-knee'd and dew-lap'd like Thessalian bull-
Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells
Each under each.

Piano Forte Sonata for the left hand (obligato). By Fred. Kalkbrenner. London. Clementi and Co. Chappell and Co.

There are few masters so capable of demonstrating the extent of execution as the author of this sonata. Whenever, therefore, he apappears in the character of a monitor or a teacher, he is peculiarly entitled to attention. The power of performing passages is one thing -the expressive application of them is another. MR. KALKBRENNER's style is peculiar, but his command of the instrument is prodigious. We regard this sonata rather as a lesson for the exercise of the left hand, than as a composition that emulates any higher species of excellence-and it is in this light we consider it to rank very high. The sonata opens with an air taken by the left hand, while the right performs the accompaniment. Such a disposition of the parts is not of course common, and it seems to be a defect, that the accompaniment is too attractive to allow to the principal its true share of notice. It has melody enough to call off the mind from the bass, which has the real subject. The left hand throughout performs passages usually given to the right. In the beginning of the second page, the upper part has a very sweet piece of melody, which is filled up and enriched by the bass, and is agreeably repeated in the treble, the left hand crossing to play it. Both this and the third pages contain a great portion of air, with much employment for the bass, various in construction, and passing rapidly through a succession of keys that render the execution a good deal difficult. The power of the bass passages is however greatly subdued by the accompaniment, particularly in page 4. One of its best parts we consider to be the cadence at the bottom of page 5, after which the original subject is again taken up. The second movement of the rondo is very pleasing, where the left hand by crossing again assumes the air.

The whole of this sonata fulfils its intention and affords fine practice for the left hand, which cannot fail to be strengthened and improved by its use. The lesson has moreover a recommendation frequently not common to the compositions of the writers for the piano forte of the present day. It is more agreeable, more intelligible, has fewer over hedge and ditch passages, and contains more

phrases of meaning, a term however which we employ in a lower Horace's rule

sense.

Non satis est pulchra esse poemata, dulcia sunto

Et quocunque volent animum auditoris agunto,*

Should be borne in mind by all who propose to instruct others.— Pupils derive vastly more from lessons which allure and which interest, than from those which fatigue them. Hence we are always apt to consider the suavity, delicacy, and expression of a composition, particularly if designed for students, to be by far the most important ingredients. At present, extreme and (in our minds) extravagant modulation is the rage. But, after all, the world seeks novelty, and novelty alone, though it appears to us that every possible combination has long since been exhausted. In the piece before us there is modulation enough in all conscience (it is written in four flats), but upon the whole it is more captivating than the generality of such things, and we can recommend it as abounding in much that is pleasing and more of what will be found essentially useful.

Far from me my Delia goes; Canzonet, with an Accompaniment for the Piano Forte or Harp;

What shall I do? a Song, with an Accompaniment for the Piano Forte or Harp;

O bright in every Grace of Youth; a Ballad. By Wm. Horsley, Mus. Bac. Oxon. London. Clementi & Co.

The severity and the delicacy of MR. HORSLEY'S judgment are so established, that we look to him as one of the preservers of good music among the moderns, and as an arbiter elegantiarum in taste. These three songs have been given to us with those we noticed in our last this season. They are trifles-they wear a modern air, but

'Tis not enough, ye writers, that ye charm
With ease and elegance; a play should warm
With soft concernment; should possess the soul,
And as it wills, the listening crowd controll.

are not, heaven be praised! exactly in the very newest fashion. The first is simple, smooth, and sweet. The second has more of pretension; but withal a very dangerous coadjutor in the words "What shall I do ?" made more striking by repetition, and bordering so nearly upon the ludicrous, that we should tremble for the fate of the song in the hands of a person of ordinary conceptions. The last, we may indulge ourselves in believing, has caught a certain cast of expression from the origin of the words, which are a translation it seems from the Irish, and the air wears the garb of nationality. If MR. HORSLEY can write in this style, he can produce us Irish melodies, should any poet from the emerald isle need his assistance. Of the three we are at a loss which to prefer-but they are all chaste and pleasing.