SELECT POETRY.

We view RELIGIOUS POETRY as a most efficient aid of virtue, and love rather the plain unvarnished moral, than the gaudy tinsel of poetic licentiousness.

THE SYRIAN CAMP.
HEBREW-II KINGS, vii. 6.

Where had thy war-host, oh Israel! fled,

When ye crouch'd at the sound of the Syrian's tread,
Nor raised was the banner, nor grappled the sword,
Yet the Syrian shrunk at the voice of the Lord.

`t came when at midnight was closed every eye-
Hark! startling and fearful it bursts from the sky!
And chariot and horsemen with crash and with clang
All trackless and wild o'er the slumberers rang!

The foreman leap'd up-fly, oh fly from the strife—
Leave purple and silver, and rush for your life!
Through thy forests, Manassah, they swept like the wind,
And the anger of Heaven roll'd fiercely behind!

Rise, daughters of Judah-no wail for the slain
Shall mingle a sigh with your harp's merry strain-
And gather young garlands and bind on your brow,
The red drop rests not on their loneliness now.

young,

When what triumphs fill'd my breast 'Tis truth once known-To bless, is to be blest! I led the bending beggar on his way; (Bare were his feet-his tresses silver grey ;) Soothed the keen pangs his aged spirit felt, And on his tale with mute affection dwelt, And in his scrip I dropp'd my little store, And wept to think that little was no moreHe breathed this prayer-"Long may such goodness live!"

'Twas all he gave-'twas all he had to give.

THE PAST, THE PRESENT,-THE FUTURE.
Respice! Aspice! Prospice!

The Past, the Present,-and the Future:-these
Are Time's three portions; and Eternity's
Can be no greater. Strange is their division:
Each with each making union and collision.
They were, or are, or will be, each the same;
And each the other, in their order, name
And being. Yet two of these are infinite:-
The Past, still refluent on the deepening night
Of pre-eternity, whose unborn source
Receives, absorbs, accelerates its course:
The Future, from its post-eternal store
Forth issuing, and extending more and more:
The Present,-how shall we its state define?
What hand shall meet its nice and narrow line?
Gone, even in its coming,-subtle shade,
Whose advent by no art of man is stay'd,
Nor its departure speeded; that small space,
Whose point the Future and the Past efface
In the same instant. It will be the Past,
And it hath been the Future; yet doth last,
The unchanged, always changing, Present; still
Blending the boundaries of was and will.
The Isthmians' Now of each Eternity,
Trining the has-been, being, and to-be;
The bridge of either EVER, single-arch'd,
O'er whose short span the ceaseless Past hath march'd
From the quick Future, which its track pursues,
O'ertakes, impels, effaces, and renews,
The far Past fades behind Oblivion's veil;
The nearer gleams through Memor's reflex pale;-
Dark as the distant Future; while the near
Takes the prismatic tints of hope and fear.
Our sires possess'd the Past-its state was their's;
Our children are the Future's destined heirs:
While between either range ourselves are thrown
The waste forgotten, and the waste unknown;-
So are the twain a lifeless void to us
The anti-natal, and the posthumous,
Shedding alike their deep, impervious gloom,
Before the cradle and behind the tomb.
But the immediate Present-which doth dwell
On its own instant indivisible-

The speck of time, incapable of pause

It was what will be, and will be what was,
Yet ever is, a filling, emptying, sea;
Through which the river of Futurity
Exhaustless rolls into the broad and deep
Gulf of the Past with never-tiring sweep.
How strange, that what is nothing should be all-
Continual time, a timeless interval-

A viewless atom, slipping from the sense,
An orb of undescribed circumference.
Forbear the enlarging thought,-nor urge a theme
Which he alone can reach-the power Supreme,--
Within the glance of whose all-seeing eye,
The Past, the Present, and the Future lie,-
A tri-une point in one eternity.

Yet hence a seasonable lesson may
Well be extended-

Be then our net with Present wisdom cast, To catch the Future, ere it be the Past!

EXTRACTS.

WHAT IS HEAVEN?

It is the city of GOD-the peculiar residence of the Most High-the Throne of Eternal glory, grace, and truth. These are general terms; but let us consider two particulars. It is the central point of universal government, the Metropolis of the whole universe. Suppose we were to dwell for a moment on all the vast systems of created matter, revealed to us by the telescope of Herschell, and then calculate the vast number that are far beyond the reach of human optics, and arrange them before the mind's eye as the empire of Jehovah-heaven is the centre of the whole; the place from whence emanate all the laws by which they exist, and from whence the angels that do his will go forth to administer God's government over them all. How sublime the reflection! Second; Heaven is the capital city of an infinite dominion, and is the home of all the holy and pure intelligences which exist in the universe. Not merely of cherubim and seraphim, angels and spirits redeemed on earth-but all, all, from every planet and system where GoD has placed them. What numbers then are round about the throne of GOD! And this is the home of the Christian.

What can be a more beautiful and interesting sight, than to see the principal of a family, surrounded by his children, and all the various persons of which the household is composed, from the humble domestic, to the valued friend or relative, with the book of holy law before him, reading and expounding to them its contents, deterring them from evil by its awful threatening, encouraging them of piety by its delightful promises? I have frequently been witness of such a scene--and as I looked with veneration on the charming group, methought the countenance of the principal object had something angelic about it, and it seemed that its benign aspect indicated that he should in futurity reap the reward of his faith and obedience,

THE DEATH OF THE YOUNG. Beautiful is that season of life when we can say in the language of Scripture, "Thou hast the dew of thy youth." But of these flowers, death gathers many. He places them upon his bosom, and his form is changed to something less terrific than before. We learn to gaze and shudder not; for he carries in his arms the sweet blossoms of our earthly hopes. We shall see them all again, blooming in a happier land. Yes, death brings us again to our friends. They are waiting for us, and we shall not be long. They have gone before us, and are like the angels in heaven. They stand upon the borders of the grave, to welcome us with the countenance of affection, which they wore on earth, yet more lovely, more spiritual. Death has taken thee, too, sweet sister, and "thou hast the dew of thy youth." He hath placed thee upon his bosom, and his stern countenance wears a smile. The"far country" seems nearer, and the way less dark, for thou hast gone before, passing so quickly to thy rest, that day itself dies not more calmly. And thou art there waiting to bid us welcome, when we shall have done here the work given us to do, and shall go hence, to be seen no more on earth. PROF. LONGFEllow.

TWO DOLLARS A YEAR,] VOL. I.

gress of his mind.

THOMAS AUGUSTIN ARNE, born at London, in the year 1704, was the son of an upholsterer, in that city. It was his father's purpose, that he should pursue the study of the law; and with this view he was sent to Eton College. But at an early age, his native genius for music became the arbiter of his best thoughts. While his fellow-students were devoted to their daily tasks, he was as earnestly devoted to his favorite study. They had their Virgil, or their Horace, or their Juvenal; but he preferred, from an irresistible predilection, the beauties of EUTERPE. It may well be thought, that he did not long continue at Eton, which could give no countenance to one whose only manual was a flute, and whose only prosody was the "concord of sweet sounds." Much to his father's grief, he soon came back to London. Still the study of the law was made his ostensible employment; and his fond parent looked forward to the time, when, as a barrister, his son might "found a name," and become an ornament of his age and country.

But as in the case of Handel, ARNE was to exchange the law for a more congenial pursuit. His father's strong opposition served but to increase his zest for what he loved. He used every artifice to gratify his prevailing disposition. Dressed like a servant, to elude suspicion, he would frequent the public musical entertainments of the metropolis. Having secretly purchased or borrowed an old spinnet, and carefully muffled all the strings, he would for hours, after all the family were merged in sleep, regale himself in his private attic story. It might be truly said, that the love of music was his passion. It was uncontrollable.

His execution on the spinnet rapidly improved; and to his study of the flute he added, under the tuition of Festing, a thorough knowledge of the violin. His power of genius soon swayed all his father's plans and projects for his appearing at the bar. And with his manacles now broken, he gave himself for life to "the bliss of Harmony."

He became the tutor of his sister, Susanna Maria, afterward the celebrated Mrs. CIBBER. It was for her that he set to music Addison's "Rosamond," in which she was the heroine; and the piece was publicly received with the strongest marks of approbation. Her admirable

NEW YORK, APRIL 1, 1835.

voice and love of music, now induced her to become a singer by profession, and to share her brother's praises and rewards. At this time, A. D. 1733, he was but nine-and-twenty years of age.

His next composition was a burletta, or comic opera, on Fielding's "Tom Thumb, or the Tragedy of Tragedies." In the year 1738, appeared his "Comus." And at the same period, some of his finest cantatas, duets and trios were produced.

His original and marked style arrested general attention. It was so natural, so sweet, so clear and flowing, that it soon won upon the ear, and at last gained the heart of the whole community. It gave a new turn to the national taste. It marked a new epoch, in the history of English music. And such has been its predominating influence, that if any particular mode of modulation and of harmony may be called English, it is the natural and easy style of Dr. ARNE.

[PAYABLE IN ADVANCE.

NO. 5.

CHURCH CHOIRS: THE MODERN versus THE ANCIENT.

Ps. v. 9.

FOR THE FAMILY MINSTREL. "There is no faithfulness in their mouth." The Jewish rule excluded from their choirs all vocal performers, except the Levites. To take the name of the Most Holy upon their lips, in celebrating his divine attributes, they regarded, as it is in truth, a solemn act, that should absorb the devout feelings of those who led this part of worship. It is a disputed point among the learned, whether any Israelites, not of the tribe of Levi, could take part even in the instru mental music of the sanctuary. "If any," says that able writer on this subject, Dr. LIGHTFOOT, "they were to be as near the priesthood as possible, both for alliance and qualifications; and when they were come to the highest they could, they were not admitted to join voices with the vocal music, which was the proper song, and the proper service, but only to join with the instrumental:-which was but thus much, that if any man of worth or piety, or in near affinity with the priesthood, had addicted himself to musical devotions, and to pour out his praises to God that way (as that was then greatly in use,) if he came to offer to join his skill and devotion to the temple chorus, they refused him not, but let him put in with his instrument among the instruments; but among the voices he might not join, for that belonged only to the Levites." Vol. ix.

Having married Miss Cecelia Young, a celebrated pupil of Geminiani, he went with her to Ireland, in the year 1742, and remained two years in that country, flattered with unlimited success. On his return to England, he published numerous minor works, and, in the year 1762, his two oratorios "Abel" and "Judith." Then appeared his "Britannia," "Judgment of Paris," "Thomas and Sally," "Eliza," and " Artaxerxes." It was at this period, that he received from the University of Oxford, the degree of Doctor of Music. And among the many who have borne this title, none in England have been more worthy of it, P. than the author, who could charm every ear with the beauties of his "Rule Britannia," and could so happily decide a nation's taste, by his natural simplicity, and unaffected sweetness. Among his airs to the songs of Shakspeare, some are unrivalled for these qualities.

As long as a sound taste shall prevail, the greatest pleasure must continue to be yielded, by such airs as "Rule Britannia," "Rise, Glory, Rise," "Where the bee sucks, there lurk I," "Now Phœbus sinketh in the west," and other similar beauties from the works of Arne; and his memory must ever be embalmed by all, who have hearts attuned to the most amiable and the tenderest sensibilities of our nature.

It was not until he had attained the 74th year of his age, after a long and uninterrupted course of successes, that he closed his earthly career, on the 5th day of March, A. D. 1778,-the just pride and boast of Englishmen, and the author of some of the sweetest melodies and richest harmonies, that have ever, in the wide range of musical science, conveyed pleasing or elevating emotions

to the soul.

"O Arne, what hand can touch the string so fine;
Who up the lofty diapason roll

Such sweet, such sad, such solemn airs divine;
Then let thein down again into the soul¦
Now rising love they fann'd, now pleasing dole
They breathed in tender musings through the heart;
As when seraphic hands a hymn impart."

56.

How far we in modern times have deviated from the spirit of this ancient rule, and how any one can sanction the employment of a professed dramatic singer in a Christian Church Choir, is for the clergy and the Lord's people to examine, and to decide. MORE ANON.

MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS: THEIR NATURE, HISTORY AND CHARACTER.

FOR THE FAMILY MINSTREL.

MR. EDITOR,-The following interesting account of the elements of our modern orchestra, I have chiefly compiled from the pages of two foreign works, in the hope that it may appear in your valuable paper, and afford others the satisfaction which I have myself derived from it. Your friend, OVERTURE.

"Sound," says a distinguished French author, "is only air put in motion and modified different ways; but what variety is there, in the modifications of a principle so simple! What a difference between the nature of a tone in a bell, and that of a wind, keyed, or bow instrument. And again, in each of these grand divisions, what delicate relations in the quality of sounds." When we think that new discoveries are daily produced in the fabrication of instruments, cach of which brings forth some strange and unheard species of tone, the resources of music justly appear to us as infinite as the endless variety of form.

Towards the end of the sixteenth century we

find

THE VIOLIN indicated, in Italian scores, piccoli violini alla francese, which renders it probable, that the reduction of the ancient viola to the present dimensions of the violin, took place in France. This instrument is tuned by fifths, and the supe riority of its tone soon brought it into genera

use.

THE VIOLA,

reduced to four strings, and tuned a fifth lower than the violin, is the only one of its ancient family, that the moderns have preserved. In the orchestra, it plays the contr' alto part.

THE VIOLONCELLO.

The bass viola, a difficult instrument to play, has now long been supplanted by the violoncello, the tone of which is more energetic, and fitted for orchestral effect.

THE DOUBLE BASS,

at the present day the foundation of the orchestra, was constructed in Italy, about the beginning of the eighteenth century. It is furnished with three thick strings, which give the octave below the violoncello. In France, this instrument is tuned by fifths, which renders the execution extremely laborious; in Italy, Germany and England, it is tuned by fourths.

THE GERMAN FLUTE,

which, like wind instruments in general, was defective in many notes, has had its imperfections corrected by keys, which have given the power of executing many passages, which were impossible upon the ancient flute. While however its scale has been extended, and this facility gained, the multiplicity of keys is embarrassing to a performer, as well as injurious to the tone of the instrument. Naturally the flute is in the key of D,

but it may be played in any other key. For particularly piercing effects, composers sometimes use an octave flute, or piccolo,-for instance, in imitation of the wind in a tempest.

THE OBOE, OR HAUTBOY, when well played, has a quality of tone peculiarly expressive, and more various than the flute. Although but of small proportions, it has much power, and will surmount the most formidable orchestra. It is, however, rare to meet with a really good tone, and fine execution upon the oboe.

THE ENGLISH HORN,

forms the contr' alto of the oboe, and, on account of the length of its tube, it extends a fifth lower. The tone is wailing and plaintive, and fitted for slow movements. Mozart has employed these horns in the Requiem.

THE BASSOON,

which belongs to the Oboe species and forms its bass, was invented by Afranio, a Canon of Pavia, in A. D. 1539. Its compass is about three octaves and a half, from the Bb under the bass clef upwards.

The principal defects of it, which are more or less apparent, according to the skill of the performer, are in its lower part, where the sounds are too flat compared with the upper notes. The bassoon is perhaps the most effective wind instrument of the orchestra, and fills various offices in the harmony, sometimes tenor, sometimes bass. In Germany, a large species of this instrument, called the double bassoon, CONTRA FAGOTTO, is sometimes used, and gives the octave below; but, in addition to its articulating sounds very slowly, it is extremely difficult to play, and requires a very robust constitution.

THE CLARIONET

is much more modern than the oboe or bassoon, and was invented by Denner, an instrument maker at Nuremberg, in A. D. 1690. Such are the difficulties of execution upon the clarionet, that three different sorts are employed in the orchestra, to facilitate the performance in various keys. One in A serves for those in which there are many sharps; another in B flat, in like manner, where flats abound; and composers sometimes write for another sort, in C. Military bands present many varieties of this instrument, as well as of others. In its voluminous tones, at once round and soft, the clarionet is unlike any other instrument, particularly in its lower part, which is in France termed le chalumeau. In Weber's Freischutz are to be found some striking effects from an unusual employment of these low notes.

THE CORNO DI BASSETTO, the tone of which is exquisite as an obligato accompaniment to the voice in a solo, is the contr' alto of the clarionet, and extends a fifth deeper. A model for the use of this instrument may be found in the Clemenza di Tito by Mo

zart.

THE HORN

gives but a few sounds pure, free and open. Others are obtained, by placing the hand in the bell; but as these artificial tones are sometimes the most frequently wanted, crooks have been invented, which, in lengthening the tube, put the horn in a different key. Yet, notwithstanding the ingenuity of this method, composers, in particular modulations which do not afford time to change the crooks, are obliged to suppress their horn parts. This instrument is precious, for the variety of its effects, and its equal capacity for the expression of tenderness or of violent passion. The art of combining horns, is a modern resource, which has been well developed by Weber, among others of the German school, THE TRUMPET

is the soprano of the horn, to which it sounds the octave above. It is less extensive, having none of the artificial sounds, which in the latter are produced by the hand, and its quality is more silvery, clear and penetrating. Additional tubes, or crooks as they are called, modify the intonation of the trumpet, as they do of the horn; though the shape of the former has undergone various alterations. The ancient model is the one now generally adopted.

THE TROMBONE

is of three sorts, alto, tenor, and bass. It is capable, by means of a slide which shortens or lengthens the tube, of giving all its notes in open sounds. In brass instruments, great practice is necessary, to acquire what is called the tongueing; and in the proper application of the lips to the mouth-piece, natural qualifications as well as

Among its various improvements, there is found a stop, the idea of which is singular, and the effect a mystery. This stop, generally known by the name of the mutation-stop, (in England, the sesquialtra, cornet or mixture,) is divided into the furniture mixture and cymbals. Each of these stops is composed of four, five, six, or even ten pipes to a note. These pipes, which are of small dimensions and of an acute tone, are tuned to the third, fifth, or fourth octave, so that each note produces the perfect common chord many times redoubled. Hence it happens, that the organist cannot play several notes in succession, without producing a like succession of major thirds, fifths and octaves. But this is not all. If the performer plays chords, each of the notes which he employs gives as many perfect common chords, doubled or trebled, making it appear that a frightful cacophany, or chaos of sounds, must be the result; but, by a species of magic, when these stops are combined with diapason pipes of two, four, eight, sixteen or thirtytwo feet in length, there is produced an ensemble the most majestic and astonishing that can be conceived, and of which no other combination of sounds can convey any idea. Thus the Organ may be said to triumph over the united power of the orchestra, and to exult in a magnificence and profusion of harmony, which render it the fittest among all instruments of music, to enter into the sacred courts of the MosT HIGH, and to give utterance to the solemnities of worship in his holy temple.