tiality. "We are seldom able," Mr. Hastings confesses, "to realize the good effects they seem capable of producing. Even in those places where considerable attention has been paid to the cultivation of psalmody, we often find the voices and instruments so much at variance, as to induce us to wish their connection dissolved." p. 62. Good singing, according to the dissertation before us, requires attention to tone, intonation, time, articulation, accent, emphasis, expression, and the graces; the first six, however, are "sufficient of themselves to constitute correct vocal execution," and we could not, at present at least, aim higher than the attainment of this much. The great part of the faults of singing, arise from inattention to some one of these six requisites. The author's remarks on tone and intonation, are worthy of attention, but we cannot quote them here. Time is generally well kept by a congregation accustomed to sing together; but we have sometimes noticed a strange diversity of keeping time in the same tunes in different churches, and more especially in different cities. Some have a wholly different style of performance, which creates confusion whenever another style of singers is mixed with them. If the notes were in every case strictly regarded-this confusion would be obviated. No variation should ever be attempted in a tune; uniformity in this case being far preferable to any supposed beauty. To articulation, very little regard is paid in public singing,* yet this most essential requisite is easily acquired. The rules laid down by our author for attaining this are very good in theory, and we would recommend, an attempt at least, to practice them, to singing schools; but we should think that a little practice would soon effect every thing necessary for common singing, without any other directions than such as would be easily supplied by a good ear. Accent and emphasis, can hardly be practised, when the same song is sung to so many and various tunes as it is neeessary in the regulation of public worship, it should be. So far as they can be well introduced, propriety will suggest, better than rules can direct. In selecting tunes appropriate to the song, we may here remark, attention is not only required to adapt it to the *The author, in his section on articulation, gives some instances of the actual sounds often emitted in singing, instead of those intended; the following specimen will well exemplify the importance of distinctness; the words are written precisely as they strike the ear in the common rapid method of singing.' instead of e sta 212 12 2 2 4 1 va, &c. which very is often heard, When I with pleasing wonder stand And all my frame survey,' &c. p. 37. subject as solemn or plaintive, or ordering or grateful, but also to the collocation of the sentences. Some forcible examples given by the author, when speaking of improper fugues, will serve to illustrate this completely. For instance in the repetitions so frequent in singing, how often is devotion spoiled by such as these which the measure requires; This life a shad- Nor speed nor cour Fly like a tim The larger cat- Their lips are flat Age of an horse. (pp. 109 and 110.) It is on these and other grounds which we need not particularize, that a great number of tunes are not adapted for general use; the common tune of Horsley is of this number, and the female voices have often to dwell for several seconds on such half sentences as the above. We join the author in the following remarks: "Compositions for the church, like every other species of vocal music, should be so constructed, that the words when properly sung, can receive their requisite character; and they should be sufficiently chaste and simple, to be, in some measure, adapted to the abilities of those who sing, and the taste and comprehension of those who hear. But this is far from being universally the case. Like secular compositions, they often exhibit a pedantic, and in some respects, a tasteful display of musical ability; while at the same time they are so ill adapted to words, as to preclude the possibility of appropriate expression, were the performance ever so skilful and judicious. Instead of preserving chasteness and simplicity too, we often observe them to either sink so low beneath the general taste, as to be equally uninteresting to performers and auditors; or, to rise so high, in the scale of refinement, as to render them too difficult for the execution of the one, and the taste and comprehension of the other. And if we were to examine on the preceding principles, the pieces that are now in general use in our worshipping assemblies, there is much reason to believe, that by far the greater portion of them would be found unfit for the genuine purposes of sacred song." pp. 21, 22. The present low state of the art in our country is attributable, according to Mr. Hastings, to the almost universal deficiency in elementary instruction:' pupils being but partially instructed, and their voices as if rendered perfect by the hand of nature, left to the guidance of an undisciplined ear: the first pieces they attempt are the most difficult, and they thus not only neglect the proper method of studying their music-books and their gamut, but are incapacitated for future improvement. "It is evident then, that the first step towards the revival of the art in this country, would be the extensive circulation of such pieces as are sufficiently chaste and simple, to admit of their being understood by the generality of auditors. And having done this, it should be our next endeavour, to have them executed on suitable occasions, in the most appropriate manner.” p. 143. The establishment of singing societies-where good tunes are practised, and the members take an efficient part in the congregational singing-is desirable in every church; and if generally attended and properly regulated, they afford the best remedies for the deficiency we complain of. Scattered over the church and uniting with the assembly, the inconveniences of a choir are obviated whilst all its advantages are enjoyed. We are sorry that these associations are so rare. In many instances, they spend the whole of their time in singing anthems and tunes which are never introduced, or if introduced, not sanctioned by public taste. There is amongst choristers, a very mistaken admiration of difficult and unintelligible compositions. Trills, slides, turns, springs, flourishes, variations, ad libitums, cadenzas, and the whole class of the superficial embellishments of song,' impart nothing of the chasteness, grandeur and dignity, which a church requires. Such anthems as Dr. Arnold's Cheshunt, to give one instance, will always be acceptable. If the selections of anthems on suitable occasions be confined to such as that, they will be solemn, impressive, and pious, and will make happy substitutes for the rolls, and fugues and endless repetitions which torture all melody upon the subject, and only create disgust. The first rule, however, in regard to any kind of singing, but especially in the ordinary sacred songs, is, that every individual should be impressed with the solemnity and importance of the act of worship. Ministers may greatly contribute to this effect, by distinctly and impressively reading the psalm or hymn to be sung; the clerk then, having had previous notice given him of the selection to be used, should in a proper manner, raise a suitable tune, adapted to general use, to the subject of the song, and to its phrases; as soon as the tune is distinguished, every individual should unite to the best of his abilities, regulating his voice to the tenor, and preserving the proper time; he may pay attention to these particulars, whilst at the same time, he may enjoy the melody of the heart." There are many topics in Mr. Hastings' dissertation, to which we could not do justice here, and have therefore not mentioned them. The main point we have in view, is the proper execution of ordinary psalm-singing. To speak individually, we are enthusiastically attached to the mode of praise peculiar in our church; we admire its simplicity, its harmony and usual effect, and cannot think that time mis-spent which is devoted to the suggestion or practice of the smallest improvements. To those who are desirous of bringing about a reformation in this matter, we recommend the perusal of the work before us; which will be found to be an interesting and able elucidation of the whole matter, containing principles and rules admirably calculated, on the whole, for universal improvement. 321 THE FETE AT CASTLE GARDEN.* MY DEAR SIR, New York, October 3, 1824. After our return from Boston I had to work double tides, and time has since stolen by like a thief in the night watch. When I look back for unanswered letters and find yours of the 6th of September amongst them, I am dismayed. Why should time cheat me I say, since I rob myself of a correspondence as precious as any thing that time can take from me; and so, my dear sir, I have determined to make it up with an answer as long as a Monthly Magazine. You say in your letter, that you arrived in good health but rather fatigued, and you find that at your age even pleasure may fatigue; therefore, you fear that the hero himself may sink under the shower of roses, that are heaping on his head: in other words, die of roses in aromatic pain. Sweet as such a death might be I augur still better for him. I saw him frequently after his return, and you have had him with you, and I think your friendly solicitude must have somewhat abated. You have found that he bears his honours bravely, and that his physical constitution comports with the soundness of his moral frame. Great excitements are no novelties to him. In the season of keenest sensibility he felt the hopes and fears that hung upon the travail of our nascent freedom, and shared in the joy that attended its auspicious birth. In his native land he has experienced still greater vicissitudes, high presages, and bitter disappointments, but in prosperity or adversity, in freedom or captivity, he has still borne his fortunes with an equal mind. How fortunate you were in those little contrarieties that deferred your eastern tour: a great lesson never to repine at petty inconveniences, which I shall take to myself. Happily, as you might have been amongst your Boston friends, still what an increase of pleasure was it for you to be of the first in this city to welcome this honoured friend of your youth, to be one of that veteran band who first received his embrace, after an absence as long as the ordinary span of human life: to be an actor in as delightful a scene as ever human speaker presented, where nature smiled, freedom rejoiced, and the population of a proud and prosperous city poured forth the willing and spontaneous tribute of gratitude and love. And though at any time the meeting with your distinguished friends at Boston would not fail to repay you for the journey, yet to be there in time to celebrate the harvest home at Cambridge, when the arrival of such a guest drew forth every talent, every good feeling and generous emotion, rekindling in the old the *For this article we are indebted to one of our friends, who permitted us to transcribe it from a letter addressed to him. fires of youth, and in the young the love of virtue and true glory, uniting two generations in the bond of love and joy; this was your good fortune, and it was doubly mine to be there and to be there with you. I had long desired to see that city, as an object of speculation. I entered it not altogether free from prejudices, but they hourly thawed away before the easy, cordial, hospitality, and attentions I experienced, so much beyond what in the boldest estimation of my own deserts I was entitled to. I regretted the short time I had to enjoy the social and intellectual pleasures, which that peculiar and interesting community holds out to a stranger and observer. The empire of reason seems strongly seated there, and education lies at the root of all their institutions. Those free schools where the children of the rich and poor are taught together without difference or distinction denote a true republican spirit, and a civilization which no where else exists, or perhaps, in the present state of things, could elsewhere be practicable. Such institutions must make good citizens, and indeed it so appears. In all their collegiate exercises, in every effusion in prose or poetry, nothing was breathed but the true and enlightened sentiment of pure and patriotic feeling; long may it be so, and long may that fountain send forth its living waters. Apropos, what a fine thought was that of Everett, and how nobly expressed, and what an awful challenge, "to fulfil the auspices of our country's destinies, and the ancient predictions of the favoured region beyond the ocean, that was to be the land of equal laws and happy men. The high and happy auspices which burst in trying hours from the longing hearts of the champions of truth. No more continents or worlds to be revealed. Atlantis is risen from the ocean, the farthest Thule is reached. No more retreats beyond the sea, no more discoveries, no more hopes. Here then is a mighty work to be fulfilled or never by the race of of mortals." Judge Parker did me the honour to send me a copy of this fine discourse, and I have read it over and over with new delight, not merely for the style, but for the fine conceptions. I will now give you some account of the General's second arrival in our city; for though I know that your taste is not for gaudy shows, yet wise men acknowledge that in point of moral effect such demonstrations of public feeling are worthy of attention. I shall only speak of the ball given in the castle-garden; a scene such as I never before witnessed in all my pilgrimages, and of which the best description I can give will fall far short. It was a fine developement of native taste and genius directed to an object worthy of it. It showed the difference between the vivid inspirations of patriotic feeling and the frigid ceremonial of ordained rejoicing; between the magnificence paid for by unwilling hands and the frank contributions of willing hearts; between the works of artists hired, salaried to flatter despots and the sponta neous impulse of free born genius. |