dered this grace to the instruments, as possessing greater power of expression; yet there are passages of intense feeling, in which the tremolo adds greatly to the effect of the voice. In Purcell's song of Mad Bess, at the words, Cold and hungry am I grown,' it may be used with great success; and who that has ever heard Braham in Jephtha's Vow, can forget his incomparable delivery of the words 'horrid thought?' We need no other instance of the power of the tremolo, when so applied, to depict the workings of the soul. MR. VAUGHAN, the last of the English school, immediately followed the steps of Harrison, as primo tenore, taking up the whole routine of his songs. With superior natural qualifications-but yielding to the reigning taste-he cultivated the same quality of style, repressing that energy which would have carried him to a higher point of excellence. This chastening of the voice, when carried so far as to stifle every spark of fervor in the singer, is as contrary to good taste, as it is a departure from nature. A peculiar, excellence in Mr. Vaughan is the great truth of his intonation: he is without the fault so common to the singers of the present day, that of singing out of tune. By no accident does he ever put the ear in doubt upon any note that he utters, which always proves a painful drawback from the pleasure we receive under all circumstances his notes bear |