The Sun.
London, England, 1849-04-23 00:00:00

MR. PIPS HIS DIARY.

TUESDAY. APRIL 17, 1849.—T0 Mr. Jigging's, where
my Wife and I were invited to Tea and a little Musique,
but we had much Musique and little Tea, though the
Musique was like the Te.t in quality, and I do prefer a
stronger Kin I of Musique as well as Liquor. Yet it
was pleasing enough to the Ear to hear the fashion-
able Ballads, and the Airs from all the new Italian
Operas sung by the young Ladies; which, though they
expressed nothing but common-place Love and Senti-
ment, yet were a pretty Sing-Song. But to see the
young Fellows whilst a Beauty was singing crowd
round her, and bend over her shoulders, and almost
scramble to turn over the Leaves of her Musique Book! li
Besides the Singing, there was Playing of the Piano
vFoiourte,,
the
eitrh
Piano
oe
beingit ccompplaayneidm Accompaniment
aosftoautFifadtd.Lleadayn dwßitiatsas
m et
o
but rbr
sheall herdid beingip soth fea tKt
et
ydsi.d amaze
did call this Piece a Concerto, and I was told it was
veryr )
ebsreirl ipattilot
n; t buther e whwaesn a
i nI
itsked
, noosnv
eh act Fancy, o
uladn
tell; y, on,
aii
od
uerily thought the Brilliancy like that of a Paste
Buckle. It had not even an Air to carry away and
whistle, and would have pleased me just as well if I had
stepped my Ears, for I could discern Nothing in it but
Musical Sleight of Hand. But, good lack! to think how,
in these days, Execution is Everything in Musique, and
Composition little or Nothing; forialmost no Account is
made of the Master, and a preposterous Value put upon
the Player, or Artiste, as the Frenchified Phrase now
isl After the Concerto, some Polkas and Waltzes,
which did better please me ; for they were a lively
Jingle certainly, and not quite unmeaning. Strange, to
find how rare a Thing good Musique is in Company;
and by good Musique I mean such as do stir up the
Soul, like the Flowers and Sunshine in Spring, or
Storms and Tempests, or ghostly Imaginations, or the
Thought of great Deeds, or tender or terrible Passages
ie Poetry. My Wife do play some bravo Pieces in
this Kind, by Mynheer Van Beethoven, and I would
rather hear her perform one of them, than all I did
hear to night put together; and so I did tell her when
we got home, which did content her well. But every
one to his Taste ; and they who delight in the trivial
Style of Musique to theirs, as I to mine, not doubting
that the English that have but just begun to be sensible
to Musique at all, will be awake to the nobler Sort of it
by and by. And, at any rate, an Evening of insipid
Musique and weak Tea is better than sitting toping and
guzzling after Dinner.—Punch.

DEATII or A VETERAN.—James Henderson, ser-
geant in the 52d Light Infantry, died at Muse-lane,
Glasgow, on the 11th inst. The sergeant in his day
was a real hero, and had seen more service and received
more wounds than generally falls to the lot of one man.
Ile served in almost all the hottest of our Peninsular
battles. He was present at the battle of Corunna in
1809—at Busaco and the capture and defence of Lisbon
in 1810—at Fuentes d'Onore and siege of Almeida in
1811. In 1812 particularly distinguished himself at
the storming of Rodrigo and Badajoic, hating upon both
occasions volunteered for the forlorn hope. The same
year he was present at the battle of Salamanca. In
1813 he fought at the battle of Vittoria, and in the
same year v.,lunteered as one of the forlorn hope at the
storming of St. Sebastian—was present at forcing the
passage of the Adour; in 1814 at the battle of Orthes,
combat of Turks, and battle of Toulouse—and at last in
the glorious battle of Waterloo! The gallant sergeant
was fourteen times wounded in action, some of which
were very severe; and he carried to his grave two
French musket balls received at Waterloo, which the
surgeons could not extract from his body. Sergeant
Henderson was a man of the most humane and tender
heart, and in every way an honour to his profession.—
Caledonian Mercury.
RAMSGATE, 20.—The Clio, of Boston, Lin-
colnshire, from Alicata to Newcastle, got on shore on
the Goodwin Sand last Night, during a gale from N.E.,
with snow, and has become a wreck; crow saved.