414 METROPOLITAN CHURCH MUSIC. 



On the conclusion of the service my friend said, " You have now 

 been in the most fashionable Catholic chapel in London : in the after- 

 noon I will take you to one of the churches which is resorted to by 

 the rank and fashion of the Protestant part of the community." 

 Enthusiasts do not easily tire of their favourite pursuits, and by the 

 time that we set out for church my nerves had recovered their wonted 

 vigour, and I was in the eager anticipation of fresh delight. When 

 we entered the sacred edifice prayers had just begun. In due time 

 the organ sounded. I was all expectation; but a moment or two 

 shewed me that the instrument itself was a bad one, and miserably 

 out of tune ; a few squeaking notes introduced the crude and inhar- 

 monious subject, which was soon involved in a medley of harsh 

 sounds and clumsy modulations, carried on without method and with- 

 out meaning. I turned to look at my friend : " The voluntary," said 

 he in a low voice, accompanying the information with a grave nod of 

 the head. I endeavoured to console myself for present disappoint- 

 ment by thinking that amends would be made by the vocalists. At 

 length the clerk gave out the psalm the organist played over the 

 air it was a melody that had been familiar to me from childhood, 

 and I hailed it as an old friend. It recommenced the congregation 

 rose and about a dozen young voices began to sing some a little 

 too sharp, some a little too flat the organ swelled into louder tones 

 till a flood of sound almost drowned the infant pipings, then dying 

 off into fainter strains the shrill trebles of the little choir were again 

 triumphant. I leaned my head on my hands and closed my eyes. I 

 thought I must be under some illusion. I began to fancy that long 

 absence from music had affected my judgment, and that my ears, and 

 not the music, were to blame. I reflected that the sounds I heard 

 were uttered to the praise and glory of the Omnipotent. I listened 

 with the deepest attention; I resolved to approve, but notwith- 

 standing all my efforts, my rebellious imagination would transport me 

 to the woods of America, where the hissing of reptiles and chattering 

 of birds form the harmonies of savage life. I roused myself, and 

 looked up to the spot whence the strains proceeded. 



On one side of the organ were seated about fifty crop-headed boys 

 drest in the garb with which the benevolent hand of charity had clad 

 them, and on the other about the same number of little girls in neat 

 coloured gowns and white caps. The sight was interesting, and as 

 the celebration of the Deity in song devolved upon this part of the 

 congregation, I could not help wishing that the whole number of chil- 

 dren had been permitted to join it could not have been more dis- 

 cordant, and would have been more gratifying. I looked on till my 

 attention was more particularly attracted to the leader among the 

 boys, and I observed that ignorance was no bar to assurance. His 

 countenance was disfigured by an expression of conceit, and every 

 now and then he stamped with his foot, and turned with angry looks 

 to his companions in song as they appeared to him to err. I cast my 

 eyes on the rows of little girls, and I could not see that more diffi- 

 dence or more forbearance was exhibited by their mistress. The 

 same petulance and the same conceit were visible ; and this conduct 

 was the more remarkable as I could not perceive that the leaders on 



