32 
CORRESPONDENCE. 
[Nature and Art, January 1, 1867. 
admirable impression of the heat and aridness of India in 
the hot season ; and has really depicted most vividly, con- 
sidering - the slightness of the sketches, the characteristics of 
the country. His faces, too, both of natives and English- 
men, are wonderfully distinct and natural in their features 
and expression. The solemn, wise-about-nothing sort of 
aspect of the former, and the half-ennuye, half-discontented 
look of the latter, who, at the same time, do not appear by 
any means incapable of enjoying life, are both accurately 
portrayed. 
Bombay appears, from internal evidence of the costumes 
of the natives and aspects of the scenery, to have been the 
presidency in which these sketches were taken. Any young 
gentleman, who may be ambitious of proceeding thither as 
an officer of the army, may be enabled to derive from them 
a very just idea of the sports and luxuries of which he may 
partake, and the dangers and discomforts to which he will 
be subjected. Let him, however, beware of not balancing 
the latter duly against the former, lest, after, his arrival in 
India, he should too late discover the life, depicted in 
such softly glowing tints in the warm light of his fancy, 
to be very much too hot for him. These pictures are 
exceedingly humorous ; but the atmosphere of a room at 90°, 
even with every appliance for keeping the place cool, is no 
joke ; and the mosquitoes and flies, which may be observed, 
especially in one of the sketches, buzzing about the head of 
the youth, as he vainly courts repose upon his couch, are 
most irritating realities. If they be properly studied, and 
their delineations of pain carefully considered with those 
of pleasure, we do not think that these drawings, though we 
pronounce them, can be said to represent the existence of an 
Anglo-Indian altogether under too seductive an aspect. 
NEW MUSIC. 
M ESSRS COCKS & CO., of New Burlington Street, have 
sent us for notice three recent songs by Mr. W. T. 
Wrighton, and Mr. F. Godfrey’s tuneful valse “ Helena,” 
about the latter of which and its capital introduction there 
can be no two opinions. 
Mr. Wrighton has a very enviable reputation as a com- 
poser of “ drawing-room ” ballads. Much is implied by this 
term of classification ; and the musician who can observe 
the hard conditions dictated bv the pretty tyrants of modern 
society, and, at the same time, produce something meri- 
torious in its way, is decidedly markworthy in his genera- 
tion. Mr. Wrighton does not write for posterity, and 
sacrifice himself upon the unremunerative altar of high art, 
but endeavours to meet the exigencies of the day by fashion- 
ing ballads, which shall possess a certain charm of simple, 
straightforward, unaffected melody, together with accom- 
paniments of the easiest possible description. His melodies 
are generally tender and expressive, and his treatment of 
them as refined as it is correct. “ They tell me I am quite 
forgot ” is precisely the ballad “ of the period.” The 
melancholy sentiment of the words (by Mrs. Evans Bell) 
is fully realized in the music, and the composition (in B- 
flat) is suitable for a mezzo-soprano, or even a contralto. 
“ Grieve not for me,” a song which last season was made 
popular by Madame Parepa, is in G, six-eight time. It has a 
range between E and F-sharp, and is available for either 
male or female voices. In “A wearied dove ” Mr. Wrighton 
is not particularly original, as far as subject goes. The 
modulations are smooth and pleasing, and the delightful 
motivo in D-minor must charm all. 
CORRESPONDENCE. 
To the Editor of Nature and Art. 
Sib, — To those who are fond of natural history, the 
following incident showing the fondness of animals for 
music may not be unacceptable. Some, it is well known, 
have the greatest detestation of it, the canine species 
amongst the numbers, as our ears can too well testify to ; 
but I never heard of it occurring before in a case such as I 
am about to relate. Some few years since I had a hare which 
I turned out in a large walled garden : it was what is usually 
termed a tame hare, though wild enough when any one 
entered the garden. I was amusing myself one night, as 
was my wont to do, on the harmonium, which was placed by 
the side of the parlour window looking into the garden. 
After playing - a short time, I was rather startled at 
hearing a tapping at my window. I stopped for a while, 
and then resumed my playing ; but I had scarcely recom- 
menced when a repetition of the same noise occurred. “Well,” 
said I to myself, “ I can’t stand this so I shut up the instru- 
ment and sat down by the fire to read. In about half an 
hour after I opened the instrument again, and had not been at 
it many minutes before the same noise occurred ; so I bade 
good bye to my amusement for that day. On the following 
night I again commenced playing with the same result, 
wondering what could be the cause of the noise and being 
obliged to cease in consequence. This state of things 
occurred for three or four consecutive days, when the mystery 
was made apparent. I was as before playing when the 
noise recommenced, and I thought I saw a movement at the 
window, and looking towards it I found to my surprise that 
my hare was seated on its haunches, and its two fore-feet were 
resting - against a pane of glass, so that the noise I heard 
proceeded from its drumming against the glass with its paws. 
I can but consider that the animal was pleased with the 
sounds, or why should it have been attracted so to the spot 
from which they emanated ? 
As happens in most cases to pets, so was mine no ex- 
ception, for it met with an untimely end. I was one Sun- 
day evening playing to a clerical friend, when we were 
startled by a screech from the hare, which was making its 
way evidently to the accustomed spot. I flung up the 
window, calling out “The hare, the hare ! ” but my friend 
and I, candles in hand, searched in vain ; so we presumed 
it had escaped from the claws of the cat, which had been 
alarmed by the window being thrown up. Next morning 
I was dressing, when I saw pussy stealing its way towards 
a carrot-bed, and, as it passed up one side, the hare jumped 
out on the other. I loaded my gun as promptly as possible 
and went into the garden, but puss did not wait for a 
warm reception. I went out for a ride, after breakfast, 
and returned about one o’clock, and as I looked out of my 
parlour-window I saw a cat asleep on the steps opposite, 
and, opening the window gently, I shot the supposed enemy 
of my musical pet. I now flattered myself that the danger 
was over ; but, in my sleep that night, I thought I heard a 
screech, and from that time to this I saw no more of my 
hare ; for I had either shot the wrong culprit, or some other 
cat, of equally epicurean taste, had carried it off — and, no 
doubt, feasted “ right royally.” G. 
