METROPOLITAN CHURCH MUSIC. 



MY childhood was spent in a cathedral town,, where my early pas- 

 sion for music was fostered and encouraged under the care of the 

 principal organist of the place. He was an ardent lover of the Han- 

 del school, and a man of exquisite taste and judgment. I looked up 

 to him with veneration. My days were passed in the organ-loft., and 

 my evenings in the studio of my master, where I was constantly 

 hearing the music of the best composers, performed by excellent mu- 

 sicians. From this atmosphere of sweet sounds I was suddenly 

 forced away, just at that time of life when the enthusiasm of youth 

 is beginning to be regulated by the judgment of manhood, and ba- 

 nished to a spot where, for many years, not a single strain of music 

 saluted my ears. Destiny took me to the back- woods of America. 

 Notwithstanding this uncongenial situation, my love of music, which 

 was innate, continued unabated ; in silence and in solitude I che- 

 rished the recollection of my former delights ; and on my voyage 

 back to the land of civilization, the prospect of renewing my musical 

 occupations formed the first of my anticipated pleasures. 



Immediately upon my arrival in London, I hastened to one of my 

 former musical friends, and begged him to conduct me the next morn- 

 ing, which was Sunday, to some place of worship, where I could 

 hear good sacred music. He took me to a Roman Catholic chapel at 

 the west end of the town. From having been for a long time in a 

 great measure banished from community with my fellow-beings, 

 especially in the interesting act of public worship, the novelty of my 

 situation at first occupied me a good deal ; but gradually my atten- 

 tion was attracted to the music, and soon every faculty became ab- 

 sorbed in listening. The organ, touched by a master hand, was for 

 some time employed in a low accompaniment to a soft supplicatory 

 strain from a few voices, among which a beautiful female soprano was 

 conspicuous. This over, the whole choir burst at once into a magni- 

 ficent gloria, one of Mozart's finest compositions. Grand harmonies, 

 entrancing melodies, and passages of exquisitely pathetic modulation, 

 by turns succeeding each other, were all executed in the best style, 

 by voices naturally beautiful, and on which the greatest care and cul- 

 tivation had been expended, and which had evidently been formed in 

 the best schools. I turned to look at the vocalists the women I 

 could not see, as they were screened from observation ; but I remarked 

 that the male part of the choir were men in the prime of life, and the 

 full vigour of their faculties. The service, with the exception of the 

 sermon, and two or three short intervals, was all musical. After one 

 of these intermissions, the principal tenor sang the Agnus Dei. The 

 exquisite sweetness of the voice the beauty of the music the im- 

 pressive manner, and chastened taste of the singer all combined to 

 raise my feelings to a pitch of devotion which I had never before felt : 

 and when the rest of the choir, supported by the organ, joined in 

 supplication for peace and mercy, every worldly feeling seemed to 

 leave my bosom. 



