education, a national opera may become a national want; and we can
scarcely conceive it possible, that the wide diffusion of musical taste
and knowledge should fail ultimately, to produce a large and
never-failing demand for dramatic music. Then would our musicians have a
wide, fair field for the development of their resources, success, the
highest and most brilliant, would be within their reach, and would
depend entirely on themselves. If, under such circumstances, the
reputation of our country did not quickly rise, bright and resplendent
in the musical horizon, our hopes of universal excellence would indeed
be crushed for ever.

[Footnote 2: No. cccxxvii. p. 130.]

It might be long before we rivalled either of the great continental
schools, each of which would doubtless long retain its ancient
worshippers. Of these two schools, of a character and style so
different, _we_ confess a preference for the smooth, voluptuous,
peaceful flow of the Italian, rather than the stern, but sublimer,
beauty of the German. The one, like the soft and glowing landscape of
its native land, refreshes the spirit, warms the heart, and kindles the
affections; the latter, like the wild and often savage grandeur of the
scenery of Switzerland, chills, while it awes and subdues the soul.
There is a smiling kindliness about the former, which fascinates and
attracts; the latter often pains and distracts, by an intense and varied
action which admits of no repose. It is as the tranquil elegance of the
Venus of the Tribune, or the calm dignity of the Apollo of the Vatican,
contrasted with the nervous energy of the works of Buonarroti, or the
sublime but fearful agony of the Laocoon.

The more enthusiastic admirers of the productions of the Germans, that