The Express.
London, England, 1868-10-26 00:00:00

THE OPERA IN WINTER.

ITALIAN Opera in winter is becoming one of
our recognised institutions, and although
out of " the season " in London it will bear com-
parison with the performances in Paris,
where " the season" is just opening. The
winter months are scarcely more trying to the
tenors and soprani on this side of the Channel
than on the other. Rain and fog, and sleet and
snow, and that raw damp atmosphere for which
the doctors ought to pray, are scarcely less
familiar blessings to Parisians than to Londoners.
Yet somehow or other it is not found that
" indisposition" prevails more among opera
singers in November than in June. As a matter
of fact, however, what is called the Italian
Opera, so far as the executants are con-
cerned, is becoming every year more of a myth.
The principal singers of the present company at
Covent Garden are, with two exceptions, German,
English, and American. The orchestra is largely
composed of English players, and the chorus
for the most part has a decidedly English cast
of countenance. It would astonish an opera
goer of fifty years ago to find the New World sup-
plying prin.a donnas (we take leave to Anglicize
the termination) to the Old.
Whether Mr. MAPLESON' a temporary occupation
of Covent-garden signifies the end of that rivalry
between the two houses which began in 1847, and
which has profited the public so much more than
the directors; whether there is to be an amalgamation
of the two houses next year when Her Majesty's
Theatre has risen from its ashes, or whether the
civil war is to be renewed, we know not. But we
trust this winter campaign, the results of which
must depend very much on ordinary play-house
audiences, will persuade the manager or managers
that the Italian Opera is no longer the exclusive
entertainment of a select class of society, and can
never be fairly made to pay by a subscription list,
but like other institutions in these days, must be
" democratised," and appeal to that undistinguished
music-loving public who cannot afford to pay a
guinea for a stall, and who do not go to Covent-
garden or to Her Majesty's Theatre for the sake of
lounging about, in the hideous evening costume
of the period, in Fop's-alley between the acts, and
trying to persuade themselves that they move in
the best circles when they point their opera glasses
at • Duchess, or take the name of a Countess in
vain.

Wrru humble gratitude for a sumptuous enter-
tainment, we take the liberty to recommend to all
English students of their native language, who are
not aware of its vast resources, an article in the
most gorgeous and gushing of our morning con-
temporaries--need we name the Telegraph I—on
an incident that lately occurred at West-
minster Abbey, an incident which nothing
less than an imagination steeped in all the splen-
dours of the East could improve in so magnificent
a style. It seems that a few days ago an Indian
Prince, in the course of a visit to Westminster
Abbey, was shown the tomb of Lord Osmium, laid
upon the slab several bouquets, and then took off his
shoes, knelt down and kissed it, and said a prayer.
Upon this simple text our contemporary discourses
in what has been variously called the " deli-
" rious bagman," and the " paste-diamond"

style on IdenomED the Second riding down
the conquered streets of Byzantium, on Mars,
and Constantines, and Muezzin's voieos and
crtscenta of Islam, on mogra, and cbampak, and
sbradh, and Furroburdin, and bfooktad, and Pir,
and Nourmahal'e tomb, and puggrou, and
cummerbund, and Siva, and Swerga, and
Jumma Musjid, and Heaven only knows

what in the heavens above, or the °Aril
below, or under the earth besides. For our own
part, we confess, wo are perfectly dazzled and
bewildered by the display of rhetoric, regardless
of all expenze, the prodigious wealth of illitstrs-
lien, the proper names, and the easy yet majestic
sweep of our splendid contemporary's oriental
singing robes. We remember nothing like it since
TIIACKERAY'S immortal chapters from " Cad-
" lingisby," in which Sidonia gives audience at
his j alace in llolywell-stroet to ambassadors from
all Europe, Asia, and Africa, and then goes out
with the bag and cries " Old Clo'."

OUR CONTEMPORARIES.
(THIS DAY.)

or 1111. ouneromeo csirvAaL

Mr. (11lads tone has completed his canvass, and,
rays the Times, the result cannot be doubtful. It is
evident that the general election will show such a triumph
of liberal principlesthat the single fear of our contemporary
is that it may be too great. It is, no doubt, for the
national benefit that there should be arrayed against the
liberal ranks " another party of different shades of opinion,
:Luling it its pride and boast to show courage and tenacity
in adherence to its creed ;" but the coming parliament does
not promise such a spectacle. A frank acknowledgment
that the country had decided against thorn, and a prompt
withdrawal from the nominal control of the national p 'hey,
might do much to reinstate the members of tho conserva-
tive rally ; but the suppleness the mass have already
rhown and the passion of their leader for power are tarifa-
s ourable to the realisation of such a plan. The Times
anticirates instead the trail spectacle of a wasted band,
dragged hillier and thither to maintain the position of the
nunihtry, and at last, every mautrucre exhausted, driven
into orporition, broken and deinoreli-ol ; but, while fear-
ing inch a rr suit, our centemroiary will be much better
plea: ed if thethinness of the contervatire followers defeats
these prognostications.
It, vita ing IJr. Gladstone's canvass and commenting
upon tie criticisms of his canon, the Telegraki remarks
thot the right hon. gentleman cannot help the fervour, the
courage, the high spirit, the stamina that urge and sustain
him to aid in exertions from which any other statesman
would shrink. Ito has proved abundantly during his life
that be is more than a popular orator—that, at a thinker
on great state problems, a conscientious and careful poli-
tician, an able administrator, and a great financier, he
fulfils the whit functions of a ruling man.