You are invited, dear Timotheus, to an evening party. At some unfortunate period of the evening, Miss Smith is asked to sit down at the piano. She is too poor a musician to need to be asked twice. She draws off her scented gloves, and, with vengeance in her eye, pounces, at one fell swoop, upon the fingerboard. The piano fairly shrieks under that fearful attack.

The last seem

What twangs,
How have you

Pythagoras, it is said, invented the musical scale by hearing the clink of two hammers, of different weights, upon an anvil. Pythagoras has, perhaps, no disciples in philosophy at present, but he certainly has in music. to think, that the act under discussion consists in "pounding." expressive of agony, have you heard from a tortured piano! shuddered to see gentle woman beating her poor instrument with the fierceness of a virago! You never thought of music, we know, while witnessing such a scene--unless you supposed the performance to consist of endless variations on the "Battle of Prague," with the "cries of the wounded" interspersed at every other bar.

But Miss Smith is beginning to sing. Her mouth opens with one wild gasp. She poises her voice for an instant, on one shrill note, and then there followswhat we cannot describe. Such vocal ricochetting, through all the varieties of runs, trills, and tremolos, such frantic attempts to go through a few Italian shakes, such useless ascensions and descensions of the gamut, rarely heard from other lips than hers. Yet on she sings, with a good deal more of an "air" than is necessary to sustain her part. Run, benevolent Timotheus, I see you grow pale. Run, and ask the paternal Mr. Smith if his daughter has such turns often.

Perhaps the blame of this sad affair is not wholly hers. The composer of such a piece deserves some share of it. Perhaps we do not wish that, as in Egypt, the law had established the songs and music which alone must be used; but who would object to see a stringent statute against such base travesties of the art musical?

You heard no words from Miss Smith. Articulation was out of the question in such a performance as hers. Even her "vain repetitions" of certain sounds carried no intelligent idea to your mind; any more than the psalm of St. Martin's day did to the countryman, whose embarrassed fancy turned “ 'Mihi beate Martin" into "my eye Betty Martin"—giving rise to a term of contempt for all farcical performances, which has lasted to the present time.

Church choirs should observe two rules-first, that the sounds they produce should be music; secondly, that they should be sacred music. Their commonest fault is crudity. This divests music of all sacred associations, and the audience only listen to it as though they were compelled to hear so much singing-school excellence per week. No one can object to new tunes, if a choir is capable of learning them. But to baulk and blunder, to sing without ease, or taste, or expression, is something too intolerable to be made up for by the novelty of a tune. Old tunes are generally better, if sung carefully, because they will be attended with some naturalness and grace. They are less likely to be labored, abrupt, and wholly without devotional meaning.

Talking of expression, we may as well say that bawling and whispering are not the only modes of giving force or delicacy to musical sound. They are excellent for giving no expression.

You know, dear Timotheus, that the violent reaction from popery, which received its impulse from the reformation, induced certain strange types of piety, among some Christians. Our puritan ancestors stripped religion bare of all pageantry. No ordinance of worship would be allowed by them to receive force from any appeal to the eye or ear. The images of the saints never glorified their windows. No Gothic arch made their hearts pant after the lofty and grand. No swelling organ woke deep echoes in the heart, overcome with sacred pomp. No rich music of a hundred voices, trained to heavenly sweetness, thrilled their souls into pious ecstacy. They feared to mistake the morbid poetry of the imagination for the earnest devotion of men sworn to do the will of God. They might have thought of the heathen temple at Delphi, where, as the bewildered devotee consulted the mystic oracle, an immense choir were filling the building with melody. At all events, they discarded prayer-books and priestly vestments, and musical instruments; preferring to wrestle with the devil single handed and unarmed.

Now the true theory concerning such things is, we think, that as such external objects and circumstances do affect the mind of a worshipper, it is better that they should favor devotion than disturb it; better that they should soothe the mind than distract it; without going far enough, however, to operate only on the poetical sensibilities, and substitute a pious dream for voluntary homage.

It is singular what rapidity the reaction alluded to in favor of a naked altar has oscilated back again to the ceremonial services, to organs and Gothic architecture. Stranger still, in our view, is it, that the first instrument introduced into the choirs of New England churches should have been the violin-the most fantastic, vivacious, capricious, unsolemn of all the instrumental tribe, and inevitably associated with ball rooms, cotillions, and chandeliers. When the question of introducing this instrument into an old congregational church, in a certain village in Connecticut, first came up, a sharp debate ensued. The old folks, as a general thing, were opposed to it. They would consider it a sacrilege. The novelty of the arrangement, on the other hand, arrayed all the young people in its favor. As a matter of course, innovation triumphed, and the following Sunday brought both fiddler and fiddle into church. But, after the introductory prayer and reading of the scriptures, as soon as the first thrilling squeak of the violin was heard, Deacon - who sat close by the pulpit,

sprang up, danced once or twice" forward and back," then taking a

"chassez"

down the aisle, keeping admirable time to the instrument, danced out of the church, to return to it no more.

"AIEN APIETETEIN."*

Whisper not in youthful hearing,
ACTION bides with ripened age;
For the young and persevering,
May outspeed the way-worn sage.

Grey Experience ever preaching
Of the old and beaten track,
Sometimes erreth in his teaching,
Reining rushing genius back.

He alone who framed the spirit,
Wond'rous in its power sublime,

Can foresee its final merit,

When lit up in early prime.

Young man! fired with strong emotions
To uprear fame's fabric high,
Let not this or that man's notions,
Warp thine aim, howe'er he try.

What though all the world oppose thee,
Call thy schemes chimerical,
No one as thyself so knows thee;
No one ought to, half so well.

"Know thyself," was fitly spoken;
Hear the mandate-onward urge,
Thus shall every breeze betoken,
Naught but ripples on the surge.

Along with great men seek thy station;
There thy laurels shall not fade;
For this free and grateful nation,

Will not pass thee by unpaid.

Homer's Iliad, vi book, 208th line.

LITERARY NOTICES.

THE WRITINGS OF GEORGE WASHINGTON, WITH A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR: BY JARED SPARKS. Vol. 8. New York: Harper & Brothers.

The present volume of this invaluable work, includes Washington's correspondence from April, 1781, to the close of the revolution, and concludes with his inimitable address to congress, resigning his commission. The last letter which he wrote in his official character, was addressed to Major-General Baron Steuben, acknowledging the great value of his public services; and a more graceful and beautiful tribute to a distinguished foreigner, could hardly have been rendered. No one can read this correspondence without being more deeply impressed than ever, with the fact that Washington was the living soul of the revolution. His wonderful forecast, his incomparable sobriety and dignity, his great and magnanimous spirit impressing itself upon all his sayings and doings, comes out in this correspondence in a degree which leaves it, so far as we know, without a parallel in any other correspondence of which the world can boast.

THE BETHEL FLAG; A SERIES OF SHORT DISCOURSES TO SEAMEN; BY GARDINER SPRING, D. D. New York: Baker & Scribner.

Dr. Spring is every where known as one of the most impressive of our American preachers. The present volume, though addressed particularly to seamen, is for the most part made up of discourses that are applicable to all classes; and while those who do business on the great waters ought certainly to carry it with them along with their Bible, those who have their occupation on land, may with equal propriety ponder the solemn truths and affectionate counsels which it presents. Many of the discourses are as well fitted to be read in a lecture room, in the absence of a minister, as on board a ship; and we doubt not that the volume has an important mission to perform both by land and by sea.

TEACHING A SCIENCE; THE TEACHER AN ARTIST: BY REV. B. R. HALL, A. M., PRINCIPAL OF THE CLASSICAL AND MATHEMATICAL INSTITUTE AT NEWBURGH.

This work is designed specially for teachers; but clergymen, parents, legislators, all indeed who have a concern in the momentous cause of education, may find much here to interest and edify them. The writer, as we have had occasion to know before, is an original; and if he ever gives out other men's thoughts, it is not till their complexion has been very much modified by their having passed through his own mind. The present work, unless we greatly mistake, is a treasury of important principles and maxims on the subject of education; and

if some things should be found of questionable character, in the estimation of some readers, we cannot doubt that as a whole the work will be hailed as an important accession to the important department of our literature to which it belongs.

AN ACCOUNT OF THE ORGANIZATION OF THE ARMY OF THE UNITED STATES; WITH BIOGRAPHIES OF DISTINGUISHED OFFICERS OF ALL GRADES: BY FAYETTE ROBINSON, LATE AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY. Philadelphia: E. H. Butler & Co.

Though this work has not exactly the character of a continuous history, it nevertheless contains a great amount of history, and that in the most attractive form. The most interesting feature of it is, that it contains biographical sketches of many of the lights of the American army, and enters a good deal in detail into the circumstances and influences by means of which they have risen to the stations which they occupy. Every man who writes the history of an important event, or the sketch of an important life, is a benefactor to his country; and we doubt not that the author of the present work has justly entitled himself to this distinction.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

Like a fine ship under full sail our "new craft" is sweeping along prosperously. The popular breeze, early invoked, and freely bestowed, has safely wafted us beyond Hurlgate into a region of plain sailing.

Should a skillful pilot guide us safely to a foreign shore, we trust the whitewinged ship will not there be condemned as un-sea-worthy.

We are now freighted with some gold, (valuable freight at this time for our transatlantic brethren) perhaps, we shall send more, hereafter. There are mines of it yet undisturbed in this growing republic. Though in certain localities it is not allowed to possess any distinguishing qualities, yet when poured into the ample treasure-house of the Future, its brightness will be conspicuous and characterized as purely American.

Our readers may be on the alert for the luxuries yet in store for them. "The lost Pleiad," "Tree of Liberty,” and “Siege of Louisburg," are held in choice reserve to adorn the pages of our next number.

The reason we issue our monthly the second week in the month is partly from design and partly accidental.

In the literary banquet prepared for the people, it is generally understood that Graham and Godey, come on to the table as soups; the Southern Literary, American Literary, and Knickerbocker, as entrées; the North American, New Englander, &c., as hearty meats; and the Reprints, as side dishes.

To those who are unaccustomed to partake of its several parts, our friends, through us, would especially recommend one of the entrées. We ourselves refrain from all advice in this matter, lest we be thought self-interested.