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one way or the other. Locke could never have been a familiar essayist, nor Montaigne a formal metaphysician. The epigram and couplet of Pope are as characteristic of the man as the freer verse and Pindaric strains of Cowley. The English and French theatres are as wide apart as any two literary examples we could furnish, and yet, intensely national, and preserving the most faithful vraisemblance. The disputes of the romantic and classic schools arise out of the same question, and can be resolved on no other principle. So, in the characters of our friends and acquaintance, we may see one a complete prig in dress and manners, and another slovenly and careless. One man is always in time, his friend always behind time. These men are either the masters or slaves of circumstance,-self-dependent, or depending on others. A little precaution or foresight might ward off many a mischance. Judicial method will leave time for immethodical recreations, but a total want of system must subject us to numerous inconveniences.

OUR SINGING SCHOOL.

INSCRIBED TO MR. HULLAH, BY A YANKEE.

My second cousin by the mother's side, Benjamin Blackletter, A.M., who was born and lived all his lifetime in the ancient town of Pigwacket, has compiled with scrupulous accuracy the annals of that venerable town, in three volumes folio, which he proposes to publish as soon as he can find a Boston bookseller who will undertake the job. I hope this will be accomplished before long, for Pigwacket is a very interesting spot, though not very widely known. It is astonishing what important events are going on every day, in odd corners of this country, which the world knows nothing about. When I read over these rusty folios, which bear the title, 66 THE GENERAL HISTORY OF THE TOWN OF PIGWACKET, from its first settlement until the present day, comprising an authentic relation of all its civil, military, ecclesiastical, financial, and statistical concerns, compiled from original records, etc.," and see the great deeds that have been done in that respectable town, and the great men that have figured therein, and reflect the fame thereof, so far from extending to the four corners of the earth, has hardly penetrated as far as Boston, I heave a sigh for mortal glory.

Knowing that my readers must be impatient for the appearance of the three folios of the History of Pigwacket, and as they cannot be put to press for some months, I avail myself of this chance to feed their curiosity by an extract, as the cook at Camancho's wedding gave Sancho a couple of pullets to stay his stomach till dinner time.-Take then the portion contained in Chapter CLXXXVIII. which begins as follows:

It becomes my lot, at this period of the narrative, to chronicle an event that formed quite an epoch in the history of the town, or rather of that part which constituted our parish. This occurrence may not be deemed by the world quite so momentous as the Declaration of Independence, or the French Revolution, but the reader may believe me, it was a great affair in our community. This was no less than a mighty feud in church matters about psalm singing. The whole parish went by the ears about it, and the affair gave the community

such a rouse, that many people feared we should never fairly recover from the shock. The particulars were these.

From time immemorial ve had continued to sing psalms at meeting, as became good christians and lovers of harmony. Bui my readers, accustomed to the improvements of modern days, have need to be informed that up to this period, our congregation had practised this accomplish et according to that old method of psalmody, known by the designation of "read-a-line-and-singa-line." This primitive practice, which had first come into use when hymnbooks were scarce, was still persisted in, though the necessit, for its continuance no longer existed. Our church music, therefore, exhibited the quaint and patriarchal alternation of recitation and melody, if melody it might be called, while some towns in the neighbourhood had adopted the new fashion, and surprised us by the superiority of their performances over the rude and homely chaunts of old. But it was not long ere the wish to improve our style of singing began to show itself among us. At the first announcement of such a design, the piety of many of the old members took the alarm, and the new method was denounced as heathenish and profane. The chief person who figured in 'he troubles, which arose upon this matter, was Deacon Dogskin, a man of scrupulous orthodoxy, highly dogmatical on theological points, and a leader of powerful influence in the church. This dignitary, whose office it had been to give out the several lines of the psalm as they were sung, was one of the sturdiest opponents of the new-fangled psalmody, and set his face against the innovation with all the zeal and devotion of a primitive christian. Unfortunately for him, Deacon Grizzle, his colleague, took the opposite side of the question, exemplifying the vulgar saying, "Two of a trade can never agree." The discordancy, to tell the whole truth, between these two worthies lay, in more interests than one, and it is to be doubted whether they would have come to a rupture in church affairs, had not their mutual animosities been quickened by certain temporal janglings, for it so happened that the two deacons kept each a grocery store, and neither of them ever let a chance slip of getting away the other's custom. Sorry am I to record the frailties of two such reputable personages, who looked upon themselves as burning and shining lights in our community, but I am afraid the fact cannot be concealed, that the petty bickerings which arose between them on these little matters of filthy lucre were suffered to intrude within the walls of the sanctuary and stir up the flai e of discord in the great psalm-singing feud; whereby, as our neighbour Hopper Paul sagely remarked, the world may learn wisdom, and lay it down as a maxim, that church affairs can never thrive when the deacons are grocers.

Deacon Grizzle, therefore, partly from conscience and partly from spite, placed himself at the head of the innovators, and took every occasion to annoy his associates with all sorts of ingenious reasons why the singing should be performed without any intermixture of recitation. The younger part of the congregation were chiefly ranged under his banner, but the old people mustered strong on the opposite side. To hear the disputes that were carried on upon this point, and the pertinacity with which each one maintained his opinion, an uninformed spectator would have imagined the interests of the whole christian world were at stake. In truth, a great many of the good old souls really looked upon the act of altering the mode of singing as a departure from the faith given unto the saints. It was a very nice and difficult thing to

come to a decision where all parties were so hotly interested, but an incident which fell out not long afterward, contributed to hasten the revolution.

Deacon Dogskin, as I have already remarked, was the individual on whom devolved, by prescriptive right, the duty of giving out the psalm. The Deacon was in all things a stickler for ancient usages; not only was he against giving up a hair's breadth of the old custom, but his attachment to the antique forms went so far as to embrace all the circumstances of immaterial moment connected with them. His predilection for the old tone of voice was not to be overcome by any entreaty, and we continued to hear the same nasal, snuffling drawl, which, nobody knows how, he had contracted in the early part of his deaconship, although on common occasions he could speak well enough. But the tone was a part of his vocation; long use had consecrated it, and the deacon would have his way. His psalm-book, too, by constant use, had become to such a degree thumbed and blurred, and torn and worn, that it was a puzzle how, with his old eyes, he could make anything of one half the pages. However, a new psalm-book was a thing he would never hear spoken of, for, although the thing could not be styled an innovation, inasmuch as it contained precisely the same collocation of words and syllables, yet it was the removal of an old familiar object from his sight, and his faith seem to be bound up in the greasy covers and dingy leaves of the volume. So the de con stuck to his old psalm-book, and by the help of his memory where the letter-p, ess failed him, he made a shift to keep up with the singers, who, to tell the truth, were not remarkable for the briskness of their notes, and dealt more in semibreves than in demi-semi-quavers.

But, on a certain day, it happened that the Deacon, in the performance of his office, stumbled upon a line which chanced to be more than usually thumbed and defied all his attempts to puzzle it out. In vain he wiped his spectacles, brought the book close to his nose, then held it as far off as possible; then brought his nose to the book, then took it away again, then held it up to the light, turned it this way and that, winked and snuffled and emmed and coughed -the page was too deeply grimed by the application of his own thumb, to be deciphered by any ocular power. The congregation wre at a dead stand. They waited and waited, but the deacon could not give out the line; every one stared, and the greatest impatience began to be manifested. At last Elder Darby, who commonly took the lead in singing, called out,

"What's the matter, Deacon?"

"I can't read it,” replied the Deacon in a dolorous and despairing tone. "Then spell it," exclaimed a voice from the gallery. All eyes were turned that way, and it was foumd to proceed from Tim Crackbrain, a fellow known for his odd and whimsical habits, and respecting whom nobody could ever satisfy himself whether he was knave, fool, or madman. The deacon was astounded, the congregation gaped and stared, but there was no more singing that day. The profane behaviour of Tim caused great scandal, and he was severely taken in hand by a regular kirk session.

This, however, was not the whole, for it was plainly to be perceived that the old system had received a severe blow in this occurrence, as no one could deny that such an awkward affair could never have happened in the improved method of psalmody. The affair was siezed by the advocates of improvement and turned against their opponents. Deacon Dogskin and his old psalm-book got into decidedly bad odour; the result could no longer be doubtful; a parish

meeting was held, and a resolution passed to abolish the old system and establish a singing school. In such a manner departed this life, that venerable relic of ecclesiastical antiquity, read-a-line-and-sing-a-line, and we despatched our old acquaintance to the tomb of oblivion, unwept, unhonoured, but not unsung. This event like all great revolutions, did not fail to give sad umbrage to many in the church; and as to Deacon Dogskin, who had fought as the great champion of the primitive system, he took it in such dudgeon that he fell into a fit of the sullens, which resulted in a determimation to leave a community where his opinion and authority had been so flagrantly set at nought. Within two years therefore, he sold off his farm, settled all his concerns both temporal and spiritual in the town, and removed to a village about fifteen miles distant. His ostensible motive for the removal was his declining age, which he declared to be unequal to the cultivation of so large a farm as he possessed in our neighbourhood; but the true reason was guessed at by every one, as the Deacon could never speak of the singing school without evident marks of chagrin.

Be this as it may, we proceeded to organize the school forthwith, for it was determined to do things in style. First of all it was necessary to find a singing master who was competent to instruct us theoretically in the principles of the art, and put us to the full discipline of our powers. No one, of course, thought of going out of the town for this, and our directors shortly pitched upon a personage known to everybody by the name of Hopper Paul. This man knew more tunes than any other person within twenty miles, and for aught we knew, more than any other man in the world. He could sing Old Hundred, and Little Marlborough, and Saint Andrews, and Bray and Mear and Tanzar and Quercy, and at least half a dozen others whose names I have forgotten, so that he was looked upon as a musical prodigy.

I shall never forget Hopper Paul, for both the sounds and sights he exhibited were such as could hardly be called earthly. He was about six feet and a half high, exceedingly lank and long, with a countenance which would at first sight suggest to you the idea that he had suffered a face-quake; for the different parts of his visage appeared to have been shaken out of their places and never to have settled properly together. His mouth was capable of such a degree of dilation and collapse and twisting, that it looked like half-a-dozen pair of lips sewed into one. The voice to which this comely pair of jaws gave utterance might have been compared to the lowing of a cow, or the deepest bass of an overgrown bull-frog, but hardly to any sound made by human organs.

Hopper Paul, possessing all these accomplishments, was therefore chosen head-singer and teacher of the school which was immediately set on foot. This was a great affair in the eyes of all the young persons of both sexes, the thing being the first of that sort which had ever been heard of in our parts; for though the natives of the town were a psalm-singing race, like all genuine New Englanders, yet they had hitherto learned to sing much in the same way as they had learned to talk, not by theory, but in the plainest way of practice, each individual joining in with the strains that were chanted at meeting according to the best of his judgment. In this method, as the reader may suppose, they made but a blundering sort of melody; yet as the tunes were few, and each note drawled out to an unconscionable length, all were more or less familiar with their parts, or if they got into the wrong key, had time to change it ere the line was ended. But things were now to be set on a different footing great deeds were now to be done, and each one was anxious to make a

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