University of Virginia Library

THE OPERA.

Were it only that the opera, like every national
entertainment, is typical of the general taste, and in
Italy affords the most free arena for talent, to an
observant traveller it must be highly important;
but it is by the strong constraint of earnest sympathy
that I dwell upon its character and influences. In
point of excellence, simply as a popular diversion,
it is unrivalled; and the chief, if not the only exception,
which can be made to its detriment, springs
from the deficiencies, not of the amusement, but of
those to whose good it is designed to minister. For
the want alike of that physical organization upon
which the pleasure derivable from music depends,

or of the sentiment and feeling, according to which
that pleasure is bounded, must equally be denominated
deficiencies, since they bar a species of gratification
as refined as it is rich and absorbing.

But it were indeed unjust to truth and human
nature, to regard the opera, in its genuineness, solely
as one of those means which the selfish ingenuity of
man has contrived for occupying or even solacing
the intervals of active existence. Its origin and
legitimate intent are far higher and better; and
although many may avail themselves of it for purposes
of convenience, or at the suggestion of that
restless craving for fashionable baubles, which is the
besetting sin of the thoughtless, there are, and must
ever be, better spirits to whom justice will refer its
claims.

As a subject merely of speculation, the opera
might be deemed an unphilosophical representation
of humanity. As her master passions are ever
developed at once and fervently, the idea of exhibiting
them through the regular and measured medium
of song, would seem essentially unnatural. Yet, as
it is impossible in the drama to render the illusion
complete; as in the most perfect efforts of the dramatist,
and the actor, the unreal is palpably evident;
in adopting a more deliberate and pre-determined
form of expression, nothing of imitative excellence
is lost, while, in general effect, much is gained. In
the opera, art and nature unite in their highest excellence.
There is all the power of stage effect, the

language of gesture and expression, the conventional
paraphernalia of the theatre, with the superadded
power of the most expressive melody—that of the
human voice exerted to the highest point of its
natural capacity, and cultivated by the intervention
of one of the most scientific and arduous of studies,
to a degree almost incredible.

If speech is the readiest means of moral expression,
and what has been termed the natural language
the most unstudied and apposite, music, the breathing
forth of the spirit in song, is the most spiritual,
and therefore, more beautifully and delicately typical
of the varying emotions which inspire it. To
this form of expression we turn not, indeed, in the
most passionate moments of experience, but when
to these the calmer mood has succeeded, when love
begins to assume the settled and deep character of a
passion, when the shock of grief has given way to
its calm sadness, and kindling hope slowly lessens
the early heaviness of disappointment; when the
quiverings of indecision have become composed
into clear fixedness of purpose, and the sense of
overwhelming joy is fast losing itself in the deep
peace of conscious happiness;—in such ultimate
stages of the passions, when their restless elements
have become, in a measure, tranquillized, and their
language more deliberate, then is it wont to pour
itself forth in measured, but moving song. And if,
in the opera, the limits of this natural order are occasionally
exceeded, what is it but an exercise of

that poetical license, upon which even philosophy
must contentedly smile?

The opera is the grand result of a general and
discriminating passion for music. Without such a
proximate cause its existence is truly impossible.
It is this which gives rise to and sustains, not only
the institution, but that remarkable and scarcely
appreciated talent, which is its vital principle. It
has ever been more or less the custom, even in the
most civilized communities, to regard those individuals,
whose lives are devoted, and whose present
happiness is involved, in thus ministering to the
general pleasure, with any sentiment rather than
that of grateful respect; the evidence of this is to be
found in the actual moral rank assigned to such a
profession, and its cause is too often, doubtless,
attributable to want of character in the members,
and to that proverbial capriciousness which society
ever evinces in relation to those professedly devoted
to its diversion. The actual sympathy and respectful
consideration cherished and manifested by the
Italians for their favourite entertainment, and its
worthy children, is most interestingly obvious to a
stranger. It is, too, delightful to observe the conduct,
the effect, all the phenomena of an Italian
opera. Evening after evening we behold the same
countenances intently studious of the performance,
the same votaries luxuriating in melody, criticising
intonations—Epicureans at the banquet of Euterpe.
So well regulated is the police, and so genuine and

universal the taste for music, that order, attention
and quiet are effectually secured. The audience,
indeed, go thither to partake of an habitual gratification.
No sound but a brava spoken, as by one
deep voice, during a momentary pause, or the full
burst of general approval, interrupts the pervading
silence.

And what the general will of a people supports,
equally in the way of amusement as in the graver
concerns of life, must bear the impress of national
character, and for this, if for no other reason, should
merit respect. This is singularly true in relation to
the opera. Happy is that people whose taste has
induced, whose discrimination has improved, and
whose characteristic interest well sustains this morally
beautiful entertainment.

To define justly the surpassing charms of Italian
vocal music is indeed impossible; and yet, if in so
entrancing a pleasure as that derivable from this
source, self-analysis be practicable, perhaps it will
be discovered that in this, above most other species
of melody, all the faculties are gratified. The ingenious
combinations and intricate art delight the
mental perceptions, its unanticipated variations and
undiscernible power and facility of development
captivate the imagination, while passion is excited
by the imperceptible encroachments of its enchanting
harmony over the empire of the heart. There
is indeed a kind of universality in this singular, this
unequalled vocalism. The heart often beats with

eager enthusiasm, when the notes of martial music
swell upon the air, an elevating sense of grandeur is
awakened by the deep tones of a sacred choir, and a
national air or household stave, by the force of association,
will electrify the auditor. Yet something
of all these effects, and something beyond and above
all of them, can faithful introspection detect in the
bosom agitated, soothed, inspired by the higher
efforts of an Italian professor.

To the susceptible student of its influences, the
opera, in its perfection, is a poetical representation
of the deep things of life; of those passions which
operate most powerfully and universally in the human
heart, of that mysterious and intricate connexion
between motive and action, sentiment and thought,
imagination and truth, which, in its development,
constitutes the living poetry of our being. Such an
one understands the mental experience of Alfieri,
who says that the plots of some of his best tragedies
were conceived while listening to the grand opera.
And what medium like music—music with all its
depth and pathos, all its subtlety and infinity of expression,
all its spiritual magnetism, for portraying
to the heart its own indescribable capacity of feeling?
And what an order of talent is that, which can successfully
wield the power of expression requisite
for a genuine opera-performer!

The votary of imaginative and intellectual happiness
finds in this pleasure a satisfaction similar in
kind, though much more exalted, to that which the

lover of physical science discovers in analyzing and
combining the elements of matter. There is the
same eager delight, which springs from the vivid
knowledge acquired only by searching and successful
experiment; but it is experiment upon self, not
that which developes the anatomical relations of the
body, but that which lays open, by a beautiful process
of excitation, the delicate machinery of the
inner and unseen being; it is the yielding up of
one's native sentiment to the heavenly sway of the
deepest melody, till its elements dissolve and combine
in all the purest and most perfect forms of
emotion. How palpable to the heart becomes its
capacity of love, in all its endless modifications, and
how keenly brilliant to the imagination shine its
own magic energies, when both are bathed, excited,
dissolved within the limitless scope of deeply undulating
music!