my many friends at Brook Farm.

G.W.C.


IV

NEW YORK, _November 20, '43._

Certainly, my dear Friend, the concert of the Philharmonic Society on
Saturday evening was the finest concert ever given in the country. It is
pleasant to see the homage paid to the art indirectly by the whole style
of the concert. The room is small, holding 1000 people. Every gentleman
goes in full-dress, and the ladies in half-dress. Various members of the
society are appointed managers, distinguished by a ribboned button-hole,
and they provide seats for the audience. No bills are issued before the
night, so there are only rumors of what the _particular_ will be, with a
quiet consciousness that the _general_ will be fine. So we arrived on
Saturday evening and found the following bill: Symphony No. 7 in A minor
(Beethoven); Cavatina from an opera of Nini's (Signora Castellan);
Overture to "Zauberflote" (Mozart); Cavatina from Donizetti (Signora
Castellan); Overture to "The Jubilee" (Weber). I think we have not had
many such concerts.

The symphony was interpreted upon the bills as a musical presentment of
the mythological story of Orpheus and Eurydicc. That did very well as a
figure to represent it, but it was taken by the audience as a theme; and
they all fixed their eyes upon the explanation, thereby to judge the
symphony. It was grand, and full of his genius. It was another of those
earnest, hopeless questionings of Destiny. The very first bars were full