scattered about at random. Thus, music of the highest class is rarely
attempted in this country; and the neglect of the one great requisite of
musical excellence, _may_ have prevented our composers from assuming
that rank, to which they might otherwise have shown themselves entitled.

There is, however, another class of composers whom we must not omit to
notice: we mean the song-writers of the day, the authors of those
ballads and vocal compositions, with knights and ladies fair, houris,
sentimental peasants, or highborn beauties, as the case may be,
lithographed upon the title-page. This class is entitled to notice, not
because of the merit or ability they possess, but because these masters
(!) really produce the popular music of the day, and because at present
we literally possess no other new music. The first object of the
publisher of a song is, or used to be, to have it sung in public by some
popular performer. This is not done without fee and reward; but the
value of the subject of the publisher's speculation, is greatly
increased by the publicity gained by the introduction of the song at the
theatre or the concert-room. When this event takes place, _claqeurs_ are
active, the friends of the singer support them, the playbills announce
"a hit," and a sly newspaper puff aids the delusion; copies of the
ornamented title-page are distributed among the various music-sellers,
to be exhibited in their windows, and the song is popular, and "sells."
Modest merit is unknown among us now. Thus songs and ballads without
number, which would otherwise remain in well-merited obscurity on the
shelves of the publisher, are forced into notice and repute. The trade,
no doubt, benefits by this system, the commercial end of these
speculations may indeed be answered, but the public taste is lowered by
each and every of these transactions.

We may here notice the extravagant price of music of every description