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a disinclination to have one's own daily life the object of observation and remark by strangers, and a similar disinclination to pry into the affairs of others, with a disposition to keep one's self as much to one's self as circumstances will allow. The gregariousness of a table d'hote at a watering place is at variance with this, and we are not surprised that those whose means enable them to build a house for a six week's residence, have chosen the quiet comforts of a cottage ornee in preference to the bustle and glare of a crowded hotel. Truly he must be a "devil” who could “ grin” at these " cottages with a double coach house," or see anything in them of the pride which apes humility.”

Since our last number the two great political conventions at Baltimore and Philadelphia have taken place. Stirring times they had at both, and by means of the magnetic telegraph they managed to keep the whole country in about as much excitement as the cities in which they were held. With the nominations made at either, and the means taken to bring about those nominations, we have in this place, we thank our stars, nothing to do. Let Whigs and Democrats, Barnburners and Old Hunkers, Clay men and Taylor men, fight this out among themselves and in their own way. We are heartily tired of seeing the stereotyped phrases about “ Harry of the West,” “ the Mill Boy of the Slashes," " the Wilmot Proviso," “ Dough Faces,"

,” “Northern Men with Southern Principles,” « Free Soil” and “ Rough and Ready." We do not care whether HENRY CLAY rode to the mill with his face to the horse's head or tail, or whether he used the meal bag for å saddle, or rode bare back and shouldered the corn, Gen. Cass' father may have worn an unlimited number of black cockades, and in our present mood it would be a matter of utter indifference to us; and we are willing to admit now, once and forever, that Gen. Taylor is very Rough and very Ready, indeed, that there is no known limit to his roughness or to his readiness. In particular are we ready and willing to admit or to promise anything which will prevent our being daily hoisted up upon the “ broad whig platform;" overshadowed by the “ broad banner of democracy, on which are inscribed the names of, heaven knows who; running foul of some “standard bearer” of his party; having a “political creed” crammed down our throats, compounded of Heaven knows what; or being assured by some whiffet whom our freedom of the press permits to spoil paper which otherwise might be useful, and who hopes thereby to be hoisted out of the slough of his own insignificance, that he was “the first to nail to his mast-head (meaning thereby his own block head,) the names of Taylor & FillmORE.” How disgusting is all this cant, which, we regret to say it, is daily more and more used, and by journals from which we have a right to expect better things. Why cannot editors write what they wish to say in good plain English, and in terms as direct and energetic as they please, instead of deluging their columns with this “ gag," which is so ineffably stupid and snobbish ?

The Conventions were followed by ratification meetings and disavowal meetings, each of which partook rather more of the character of its opposite than of its own. Meetings called to glorify Taylor were rendered uproarious by frantic cheers for Clay upon the slightest allusion to his name or his political course. Eulogies upon the Hero of Buena Vista were cut short by elderly gentlemen in a high state of excitement-for be it observed that your old whig is almost invariably a rabid Clay man, it is the youngsters who are Taylorites—leaping on to the platform-not the whig platform of which we hear so much, but the speaker's platform-and avowing their determination to live and die by “ that same old coon,” and if that very respectable and wily old animal were to die himself, then to live and die by his administrators. Meetings of people determined that Henry Clar shall be President whether he will or no, or whether the people will or no, broke up in a row, because something was said derogatory to the roughness and readiness of old Zach; and the Barnburners had no row, only because their meetings were not large enough to get up one. But scores, almost, of conventions are yet to be held by fragments of both parties. Confusion becomes worse confounded; and ere the Autumn election, more than one will be puzzled to know what party he belongs to. The old game of " follow my leader” seems to be broken up.

In Music, little or nothing has been done, save the giving of two or three sparsely attended concerts by artists of first rate merit. Mr. Fry goes on quietly appropriating to himself all the means of giving opera here during the next season, and we cannot see but that the managewent of the opera-house must fall into his hands. As we have said before, we think it could

not be in better. At all events, whoever wishes to take the task from his hands, must be ready to begin with an outlay of thirty thousand dollars before a note is sung or a ticket sold.

The best portion of the company, including of course TRUFFI & BENEDETTI, have been performing at Boston with some success, as far as we can judge from the musical notices in the Boston papers, which, with but one or two exceptions, we must say are among the most incomprehensible specimens of criticism and English it has ever been our fortune to read. True, they have concluded that they “ admire to hear” Trueri, have graciously granted some “ acceptance” to BENEDETTI for what they are pleased to call his “ facile energy.” But what is their praise of these worth when nearly the same meed is awarded to Rossi Corsi?

BISCACCIANTI, with Perelli and AVIGNONE, has been testing the admiration which the Philadelphians professed so profusely for her some months since. Her performances were brought to a sudden close by a fainting fit upon the stage. She was carried home, and it is said, will not be able to appear in public for some weeks. The regret which her friends will feel at hearing of her illness, will be somewhat diminished by the fact, that it could not have happened at a time when her pecuniary interests would have suffered less by it.

BOTESINI, ARDITI and DES VERNINES gave a concert, early in the month, at the Tabernacle, with but little profit to themselves. The two former were well known here as distinguished members of the Havana Company, the last is a pianist, who has attracted much attention in New Orleans. He is a skilful and highly finished performer, who cannot fail to please a general audience, or to win the admiration of those who know the difficulties of the instrument of which he is so accomplished a master; but he lacks any striking qualities, either in feeling or execution, and fails to excite his hearers. The same may be said of the violinist ARDITI, and in addition that he has a hard, wiry tone, and plays too often out of tune.

Undoubtedly the attraction of the concert was the wonderful performance of the youthful contrabassist Botesini. This young man is one of the very few celebrities who are worthy of that much abused name, “great artist.” To a thorough and intuitive knowledge of his instrument, and power to control and develop its mighty force, he adds a fertile fancy, fervid feeling, and a taste formed upon the models of the great classic masters. The works of HAYDN, Mozart and BEETHOVEN have been the subjects of his patient and reverential study, and are the objects of his enthusiastic admiration. He is fond, as was DRAGONETTI, of playing upon the contrabasso the violoncello parts of the best sonatas, trios, quartetts and other chamber music. We know this from those who have had the good fortune to hear him in these performances, but ere we had learned the fact, we judged from his style of playing and composition, that such was the case. This severe study in a severe school is rare in a modern Italian; still more rare is it that one of these is capable of rightly appreciating those models. The genius of the student is too frequently incompatible with that of the master. The one is intense and volatile, the other earnest and thoughtful; and rarely is it that an artist appears of talent and taste sufficiently comprehensive to combine the beauties of both. But this Botesrnı does. Himself an ardent and impulsive Italian, he has become deeply imbued with the spirit of the great German instrumental writers, and this is manifest in his execution and his writing, though they are of the romantic school. His performance is as delightful as it is wonderful. His tone is large, solid and pervading ; his intonation perfect, in spite of the long shifts required by his instrument,sometimes two feet or more,—and his stopping is as firm as a vice. His execution of some passages with the thumb position of the violoncello is an astounding triumph over mechanical difficulties, and for a legitimate end, as are all his wonderful feats; for he is a great artist, and does nothing merely to make people stare. His arpeggios and scale passages are equal, brilliant and articulated to the last degree of nicety, and his double stopping is equally accurate. The most admirable as well as the most remarkable characteristic of his performance is, that his style is as remarkable for pathos as energy; he makes his huge instrument sing in the most touching manner, and with a large, firm, well-sustained cantabile. It is remarkable, that the man who has accomplished all this, is but twenty-five years of age, and has not heard the great masters of his instrument, whose fame, while yet in his youth, he has eclipsed with all who have heard both him and them. Young and slender, he has accomplished, what else would seem the task of a veteran and a giant.

Madame Pico, who sang at this concert with much of her old feeling and abandon, but with an evidently impaired voice, is, we hear, engaged for Havana, as is also Sigr. VIETTI, formerly of the Astor Place Company.

The STEYERMARKISCHE have returned to the metropolis, after making, with profit as we un. derstand, the circuit of the Union. These young musicians began their career here, under quite unfavorable auspices, and have succeeded only by the gradual and abiding appreciation of their merits which the constant repetition of their concerts has awakened; for 10 their bonor be it spoken, they have taken no illegitimate means to bring themselves before the public. Their first concert in every city has always been poorly attended, but once heard by amateurs and critics of infiuence, they acquire wide and enviable reputation, and their concerts become both fashionable and profitable. They are all townsmen, and are a detachment from a larger orchestral band, They have played together for years. This is essily credible, youthful as some of them are; for in Germany (to make a bull) a man enters an orchestra when he is a boy, and, if competent, generally remains a member of it during his life.

We are glad to see such encouragement given to this able band of performers, not only because they merit it, but because an appreciation of concerts of this kind is an indication of a much sounder and more genuine love of instrumental music than that evinced by the crowded houses drawn by astonishing virtuosos. In the one case, the love of the marvellous and the desire to see a celebrity, may be the inducement of a large portion of those present, in the other a real love for music must be the only impelling molive to nearly all. Besides, it is in concerted music that the richest and purest delights afforded by the art are to be found.

The band is small, only nineteen in number, without oboes, and wanting the second flute and fagotto. But the instruments are all effectively handled, the violins are finely played, and with one method of bowing, which enables them to produce a much better effect than is heard from our orchestras, in which all play with what method ihey please, or with no method at all, and one may be bowing up, another down, one using the point, another the heel, another the middle of the bow in the same passage; the brass instruments have fine, rich tones, and are played quietly, with discretion as well as emphasis; and by a rapid change of instruments by some ot the performers the effect of a full brass band is nearly attained. From the delicacy, firmness and precision of the whole, the subdued pianos, and the general quiet, cool tone of the performance—thus bringing out the fortes in strong relief--and by the subservience of teach indididual performer to the general effect, these Steyermarkers attain an excellence to which we have hitherto been strangers. Their selection of music is varied, but not quite what we wish it was. There is little dancing music even of STRAUSS, LANner or LABITZSKY which is very satisfactory, we mean as the staple of an evening's entertainment. We would as soon think of sending a formal invitation to a friend to eat an ice, as deliberately d termine to go to hear walizes and polkas. Overtures, however, would fatigue is unrelieved, and these lighter compositions form a very pleasing contrast to them ; but we wonder that we do not hear from a band so well drilled some of the beautiful concerted pieces for six, seven or eight instruments by the best composers of Germany. The introduction of one or two of these would give to the con. certs a character and a dignity which they now lack; they would form an agreeable varietv in programme, and be welcome to the greater number of our lovers of instrumental music. We have heard it said that the Steyermarkers are not able to play this music with effect; in fact, that they cannot step out of their regular routine of practised pieces: but this we would not believe save on the most unequivocal evidence. Young Rzina, the beardless, stripling conductor of this admirable band, controls it well. We hope that the Steyermarkische will remain with us and become incorporated with our opera orchestra and our Philharmonic Society, the stock of which would be much improved by the ingrafting of such healthy scions.

A new pianist has appeared among us in the person of MAURICE STRAKOSCH. He came at about the same time as Des VERNines, and with even less previous notice of his visit. But in addition to his decided superiority as an artist, he had the advantage in the apparent unpronounability of his name-no mean consideration in summing up the qualifications of a musician. He made his first appearance at Niblo`s, and on a Saturday night; not a very auspicious com. mencement of his career, but there was present a tolerably numerous audience, and among these were about a hundred and fifty of those desperate amateurs of music, who, all more or less competent judges of an artist's abilities, are invariably present at the debut of a new virtuoso, and may be called the “reputation makers” of the town. M. STRAKOSCH found his audience by no means disposed to over-estimate his powers, and received hardly the usual amount of complimentary applause, as with the step and attitude of a Prussian grenadier, he first appeared upon the stage. But soon he interested his hearers, then delighted them, and

ere he was well through the first half of his first piece, hearty, spontaneous and unanimous applause burst from all parts of the house, and he was acknowledged “ a lion.” The applause was not only enthusiastic, but it was bestowed “ in the right places;" it increased as he went on, and his second piece as well as his performance at his concert at thc Tabernacle, confirmed his position as a great artist.

The remarkable characteristics of STRAKOSCH’s style are delicacy, precision and finish. The certainty with wbich he takes the widest intervals in the most rapid movements, and the celerity and distinctness with which he repeats one note are brilliant to a degree, and among those marvellous things which are almost incredible save when seen. STRAKOSCH has power 100, quite enough for all the needs of strong contrast, and a nervous grasp of the keys, which gives great solidity and compactness to his chords, which have the fullness if not the weight of De Meyer's. He has not, however, De Meyer's ponderous arm nor his unflagging fingers, but he sings more upon his instrument, and has the evenness and grace of Herz without his monotony. The expression and impressiveness with which he gives his themes, is a remarkable excellence in his performance. His execution is in the highest degree brilliant and rapid, his scale passages are even and well articulated, and his accentuation shows a perfect comprehension and command of the effects of rhythm, that first, last and surest index of the real artist, His touch is very firm and crisp with all its delicacy, and his fingers capable of any manœuvre which flexibility can accomplish ; this enables him to shake with remarkable brilliance and evenness, while with the same hand he continues his theme or an accompaniment. Such being his accomplishment, it is almost needless to say that he is ambidextrous. He lacks one thing which we wish he did not, and that is a certain dramatic intensity, the power of producing an effect like that of the climax of a concerted piece upon the stage. The piano forte is capable of this, and its use is one of the most striking characteristics of the modern style of piano forte playing.

The little Viennoises have made a very appropriate and successful introduction of Niblo's summer season at the Astor Place Opera House. They are great favorites, and their dances have given an air of elegance to the performances quite in keeping with the place. It is no wonder that these little people are so run after and so petted; their exhibition is one of the most remarkable occurrences in the history of public amusements, and Madame Weiss must be regarded as an extraordinary woman. The perfection of discipline to which she has brought these ugly little wretches, shows an unusual capacity for control on her part, and an indefatiga. bility equally rare. We call the little dancers ugly, simply because they are so, with four or five exceptions. Go out into the highways and byways of New York and take the first fifty of the most ragged and neglected little female urchins you meet, and each one of them will be more comely than any Viennoise of the troop, with the exceptions we have made; and these four or five are rapidly becoming entirely too womanly for their positions, and are in fact girls of fifteen or sixteen years, whose Teutonic luxuriance of figure is more calculated to excite admiration than their skill in ballet dances. But to return to Madame Weiss, whom the occupants of the side boxes can see almost leaping on the stage from the side scenes in her anxiety for her little puppets. She does everything for the children and the public. Not content with teaching them to dance-quite a sufficient task one would think-she composes the dances, selects and arranges the music, designs the costumes, is her own“ business man,” and in addition to this superintends the household affairs of her enormous little family—at home she must look very like the old woman who lived in a shoe-and teaches them many other things than how to dance. For week before last it was discovered that they could sing, and very prutuly too, with almost irreproachable time and tune, and in their white dresses and pantaletts and long pink sashes, looking like an Infant Sunday School at an anniversary. We a[most expected to see Fanny Prager carrying a blue banner.

Who has not noticed and involuntarily smiled upon Fanny PRAGER. By no means among the largest or the oldest of the dancers, she is the prettiest, most graceful, and most intelligent. She has, in addition to her sparkling black eyes, her clear brown complexion, her rosy mouth and bewitching expression, a power of fascination which is distinct from all those, and is a gift of nature by itself. When the evolutions of the dance permit it, it is rarely that the eye does not rest instinctively upon the countenance and movements of this bewitching little elf, and her performance always justifies the preference given her. She dances with the abandon and spirit of a woman, though she cannot from her youth assume that voluptuous grace which

is the great charm in the mature dancer. She dances with her whole soul, and her eyes dance to keep her feet company. It is amusing to see the zest with which she enters into the thing, and still more so to observe the way with which—the dance over-she acknowledges the applause. With the air of a prima donna, of a Fanny ELSSLER, she turns her eyes about the house, having a glance and a smile for every one, and maintains that sort of perpetuated curtsy which seems always sinking and yet is always stationary until the curtain shuts her beaming eyes from the audience. Nor are her powers altogether devoted to herself. She is the life and soul of the troop. She is Madame Weiss's right hand. She leads the dancers; all take their cue from her. She is always in front, when every dance, when every figure begins and ends. In the quaint and spirited Polka Paysanne she may be seen to be the first to start and the last to return in the bewildering waltz, at a velocity and with an inclination of body that, if her own or her partner's hold were to be lost, would on all principles of revolving bodies and projectile forces send her flying head first into the first tier of boxes. Fanny rehearses for the whole troop, and in her mode-t souff frock, looking quite as pretty as in her gala dress, goes through in the morning the evolution of each dance, in such a manner that, as far as the musicians are concerned, no other rehearsal is needed. And during the performance she is not thinking of herself or the admiration she awakens, but has her eye upon her campanions, and her attention absorbed by the general effect. If watched closely she may be observed in the most intricate movements giving a sign or speaking a word to the leader of the orchestra, or in some way controlling the little crowd around her. In short, Fanny Prager is the Danseuses Viennoises.

There has been little of consequence done at the theatres during the past month, and probably little will be done until the opening of the new season. Niblo has failed in getting the French Company, which, on account of some resented gallantries of its tenor in New Orleans, has been broken up, and thus we are deprived of what has been eagerly looked for as our most delightful summer amusement.

The French Minister.—We see that a Mons. de Circourt has been appointed by the French Government to occupy the vacant post of Minister Plenipotentiary at Washington, The name of this gentleman is quite unknown to us, and we are therefore ignorant whether he has already served in a diplomatic capacity, or whether this is his debut in public life. In any case, he may rely on a cordial welcome from our government and citizens generally. After the successive announcement of at least two different individuals to the position of Consul General at New York, lately held with so much honor and popularity by M. de la Forest, we are astonished to hear nothing of the arrival of either. The cause of the delay we are left 10 conjecture, but it is not improbable that it may arise from the extreme instability of affairs at home. There seems no certainty, either in France or out of it, of a pacific and regular or ganization of the new government; and we do not wonder therefore that appointments to office are received with indifference and obeyed with small alacrity. It is impossible for the new functionary to know whether he may not be recalled even before he has time to arrive at his new post. We hear nothing on every side but expressions of strong and sincere regret at the withdrawal of M. de la Forest from his Consulate at New York. He has resided so long amongst us, and endeared himself by his aflable manners and his hospitable habits to so large and influential a portion of our citizens, that the unexpected news of his retirement occasioned them not more surprise than real chagrin. It is a matter of too much delicacy for us to com. ment upon at any length, but we see no reason to forbear the expression of our opinion, that the restoration of M. de la Forest at any moment, sooner or later, to his recent office, will be received with emphatic and general marks of pleasure by the citizens of New York.

We cannot permit the death of such a man as THOMAS SNOWDEN to pass altogether unnoticed. There is hardly a printing office in the country where his name was not known, and known with honor. Fortwenty years he had held the responsible position of cashier and printer of the largest and most prominent daily journal in the country, and was respected and esteemed by all good men with whom he had in that time been brought in contact. He was the soul of kindness and integrity. By his life he honored even the trade of FRANKLIN and the Aldi, and his death received that tribute compar.d with which the most dazzling fame is nothing worth, the deep and abiding sorrow of the many friends his life had made.

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