I was at the Abbey on Tuesday and yesterday for a performance and a rehearsal of the ‘Messiah.’ The spectacle is very fine, and it is all admirably managed—no crowd or inconvenience and easy egress and ingress—but the ‘Messiah’ is not so effective as I expected, not so fine as in York Minster; the choruses are admirably performed, but the single voices are miserable—singers of extreme mediocrity, or whose powers are gone; old Bellamy, who was at Handel’s commemoration as a singing boy, Miss Stephens, &c.