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he played at Lord D.'s, who re- “It is very well for one of his warded him with some of Handel's years." * Oratorios.
He played to Mr. Kelway, whom Mr. Madan now began carrying I afterwards asked what he thought him about to his musical friends. of him. He would not allow him to He played several times at Mr. be comparable to Charles, yet comW.’s, to many of the nobility, and mended him greatly, and told his some eminent masters and judges mother it was a gift from heaven to of music. They gave him subjects both her sons; and as for Sam, he and music which he had never seen said, “ I never in my life saw so free Mr. Burton, Mr. Bates, &c., ex- and degagé a gentleman.” Mr. Mapressed their approbation in the dan bad often said the same, that strongest terms. His extemporary Sam was every where as much adfugues, they said, were just and re- mired for his behaviour as for his play. gular : but they could not believe Between eight and nine he was ihat he knew nothing of the rules brought through the small-pox by of composition.
Mr. Br-'s assistance, whom he Several companies he entertained therefore promised to reward with for hours together with his own mu- his next Oratorio. sic. The learned were quite asto- If he loved any thing better than nished. Sir J. H. cried out, music, it was regularity. He took spiration ! Inspiration !” Dr. C.can. to it himself. Nothing could exceed didly acknowledged,
“ He has got
his punctuality. No company, no that which we are searching after ; ” persuasion, could keep him up although at first, out of pure good beyond his time. He never could nature, he refused to give him a sub. be prevailed on to hear any opera or ject. An old musical gentleman, hear- concert by night. The moment the ing him, could not refrain from tears. clock gave warning for eight, away Dr. B. was
reatly pleased with ran Sar in the midst of his most fa. his extemporary play, and his pursu- vourite music. Once he rose up after ing the subjects and fugues which he the first part of the Messiah, with, gave him ; but insisted, like the rest, “Come, Mamma, let us go home, or that he must have been taught the I sha'nt be in bed by eight." rules.
When some talked of carrying Mr. S. and Mr. B. expressed the him to the Queen, and I asked him same surprise and satisfaction. An if he was willing to go, “Yes; organist gave him a sonata he had with all my heart,” he answered ; just written, not easy, nor very legi- “but I won't stay beyond eight." ble. Sam played it with great rearli. The praises bestowed so lavishly ness and propriety, and better (as upon him did not seem to affect, the composer owned to Mr. Madan) much less to hurt him; and when. than he could himself.
ever he went into the company of Lord B., Lord A., Lord D., Sir his betters, he would much rather W. W., and other lovers of Handel, have stayed at home; yet, when were highly delighted with him, and among them, he was free and easy; encouraged him to hold fast his ve.
80 that some remarked, “He beneration for Handel, and the old mu- haves as one bred up at court, yet sic. But old or new was all one to without a courtier's servility." Sam, so it was but good. Whatever On our coming to town this last was presented, he played at sight, time, he sent Dr. Boyce the last and made variations on any tune; anthem he had made. The Doctor and as often as he played it again he thought, from its correctness, that made new variations. He imitated Charles must have helped bim in it; every author's style, whether Bach, but Charles assured him that he Handel, Schobert, or Scarlatti him- never assisted him, otherwise than self.
by telling him, if he asked, whether One showed him some of Mozart's music, and asked him how he liked
Mozart, at that time, was a youth. it. He played it over, and said, Edit.
such or such a passage were good subject. He brought two of the harmony; and the Doctor was so King's boys, who sang over several scrupulous, that when Charles show- songs and choruses of Ruth. Then ed him an improper note, he would he produced two bars of a fugue. not suffer it to be altered.
Sam worked this fugue very readily Mr. Madan now carried him to and well, adding a movement of his more of the first masters. Mr. own; and then a voluntary on the Abel wrote him a subject, and de- organ, which quite removed the clared, “Not three masters in town Doctor's incredulity. could have answered it so well.”
At the Rehearsal at St. Paul's Mr. Cramer took a great liking to Ductor Boyce met his brother Sam; him, offered to teach him the violin, and showing him to Dr., H. told him, and played some trios with Charles This boy will soon surpass you and him. He sent a man to take all.” Shortly after he came to see measure of him for a fiddle; and us, he took up a Jubilate which Sam is confident a very few lessons had lately written, and commended would set him up for a violinist. it as one of Charles's.
Sam often played the second, and told him whose it was, he declared sometimes the first, fiddle, with Mr. he could find no fault in it; adding, Treadway; who declareil, “ Giardini “There is not another boy upon himself could not play with greater earth who could have composed exactness."
this ;” and concluding with, “I Mr. Madan brought Dr. N. to never yet met with that person who my house, who could not believe owes so much to nature as Sam. that a boy could write an Oratorio, He is come among us dropped down play at sight, and pursue any given from heaven.”
(To be concluded in our next.)
SPIRITUAL LETTERS. No. IV.
to a Friend The love of the eternal Father, Why are we then 80 tardy in the sympathy of our Lord Jesus making this entire surrender of ourChrist, with the consolations of the selves ? Let us look, and look again, good Spirit, be multiplied unto you at Jesus Christ crucified for us, and abundantly.
dying for our sins. Let the eye of Wherever we may be, the pre- our mind never stray beyond the sence of Jesus makes the place a scene of his sufferings, and death, court; and his visits are not with and resurrection. For our dying to held from humble contrite hearts. sin, and living to righteousness, can It is with them he loves to take up only take place when we are crucihis abode ; for they are sure to fied with Christ. It is the devout conbid him welcome. Nor can any sideration of his lowly nativity in a adverse power break the rest which stable, that must humble the pride he takes in a bosom devoted to holy of life. From the daily contemplalove. The savour of his name is tion of his bitter agony and bloody as ointment poured forth, drawing sweat, his cross and passion, his after him the spirit that is alive to death and burial, will spring the God. To the broken heart he comes mortification of the lusts of the as a healer, to bind up, and unite, flesh; while, to a soul in the habit and fill with himself, its only satis- of looking upon his resurrection fying portion. Does he take away and ascension to glory, the lusts of any thing upon which our affections the eye can be no temptation. Let were placed ? It is in order to fix a door be opened in heaven, through them more entirely upon his own which our eyes may behold the person. He has, in the exuberance Lamb as it had been slain, and they of his love, given himself wholly will no longer wander after vanity. to us; and he reasonably expects It is our little acquaintance with the the like return.
things unseen that leads us to love
and value those which
built without hands, destined never But as we are to take up our lasting to decay. It is within the walls of abode with the things unseen, and that city the almighty Ruler keeps in a little time part for ever from his court, and from the inhabitants thoxe which are seen, how foolish thereof receives such homage as is will it appear to be engrossed with his due. From beneath his throne the latter, while we forget the for- of glory and of grace flow the mer!
streams which gladden all hearts; It is your desire, however, to re. the rivers of his pleasures, conveymove, and set sail to the fair havens. ing life and blessedness all around. Having your conversation in heaven, There is the Lamb, bearing the you cannot but wish to take your marks of his passion, and appearing place within the walls of the New as if newly slain, our Saviour and Jerusalem. Longing to depart, and
our God. be with Christ, you can only feel This glorious vision should draw reconciled to stay, because it is the our eyes, and ravish our hearts; Lord's pleasure. Doubt not, then, since it was for us he took upon him in due time time he will come and our nature, was made man, and sufreceive you to himself. He will fered on the cross. But, alas, the come, whom not having seen, you mists which often arise from these love. He will come and meet you as low grounds bide these things, and you pass over the threshold of time. we look out upon what appears a Willingly may we close our eyes on vacuity. Sin, sin it is that conceals all to be seen in this world, to open from our view the glories that lie them upon another and a better. Glad- beyond the boundaries of time and ly may we part from our friends below, the stroke of death. We must to meet our Friend and our Beloved mount upward, and ascend to a above. Nature shrinks; but grace purer region, if we would enjoy a longs to be dissolved, and be with prospect of the heavenly Canaan. Christ. Heart and flesh fail; but It is not for those who are cleaving Jesus is the strength of our heart, to the dust, or walking in a vain and our portion for ever. To fall show, to have a thought worthy of asleep in the arms of Jesus, and things eternal and divine. Wisdom, have the soul drawn from its taber. heavenly wisdom enters not into a nacle, by a kiss as it were from his soul polluted by foul desires and lips, is bliss indeed. To die is the base appetites. Her · virgin purity lot of fallen man; to die in the scorns to join itself to sensuality, Lord is the gracious privilege of the earthly-mindedness, and pride. The followers of the Saviour. The grave crowd of vain thoughts must be is a dark prison-house to others; to driven from the temple of the heart, them it is a bed of sweet repose. ere a suitable offering can be preThey make their escape when they sented in it. Men living in sin, and make their exit; but the rebellious indulging their evil propensities, dwell in a dry land when driven gradually unfit themselves for haraway in their wickedness.
ing any right conceptions of God, () that our thoughts, by night as and heaven, and the world to come. well as by day, were turned towards They look upon every thing through the teinple in the heavens! If the the medium of their passions, and Jews, in their banishment, with holy feign a god like themselves, while sorrow looked towards Zion, deso- they construct a paradise according late and forsaken, how much more to their desire. should we Christians cast our eyes The mind is made what it con. upward to the New Jerusalem, the ternplates, as a mirror reflects the city of the great King! There are objects before it. And what object our coinpanions who have gone be- is so worthy of contemplation as fore, a number which no man can Jesus Christ crucified for sins? number. There are set thrones upon Here the penitent soul shall find a which they shall sit and administer pardon. Here the mourner shall be judgment. There are the mansions comforted. Here the wayering shall become decided. Here the sorrowful Jesus. May he then never go forth shall pour out tears of joy. Here the from your heart, who that he might weak shall be strengthened, and the save you refused to go down from strong established, and the estab- the cross. I feel persuaded that you lished fitted for glory and immor. keep it sacred to him; and only detality. It is an object alike suited sire that his good and acceptable to all the change of circumstances, and perfect will may be accomand all the variety of experience; plished in you. To him then I nor can we ever travel safely, rest would commend you, with prayers quietly, live comfortably, or die to our heavenly Father, that you happily, without Christ. It is the may stand at length before him devout and holy contemplation of without spot, or wrinkle, or any a crucified Saviour, that fits us to such thing. live or die; to mourn over sin, or In the fellowship of saints, and in rejoice in the Lord; to trample hope of the forgiveness of sins, and under foot all our enemies, and cast looking for the life everlasting, I the crown of victory at the feet of remain yours.
THE LOST SLAVE AND HIS MOTHER.
To the Editor of the Wesleyan-Methodist Magazine. Much of a disparaging nature bas to ten thousand assertions to the been said of the unfortunate African contrary :slaves in the West Indies, declar- On Tuesday, March 11th, 1834, a ing them incapable of religion, and slave, called Mingo, was sent with a wanting in natural affection. Im- flat from Philipsburgh, St. Martin's, partial readers of that intelligence to Simpson's Bay, in company with a which is transmitted from these boat, rowed by two men. The wealands, by the Clergy and laity of ther being very boisterous, the flat Christian churches, will doubt the was parted from the boat, and driven correctness of those sentiments. out to sea; a sloop was sent in That there are among the slaves, search, but could not discover the especially when much neglected, unfortunate individual. There was lamentable instances of impiety and a possibility of his being picked up ; brutality, cannot be denied; but but fears were entertained that he let it he also remembered, that the would perish in the water, or be exalted piety, connubial fidelity, devoured by sharks, which abound and domestic felicity, which delight in these seas. Deep sympathy was us so much in European families, are expressed by all classes of the comseldom witnessed here. We are not munity, and his unhappy situation disposed to retort ; else, from the greatly deplored. instances of declining piety in most The flat floated on the waters two professors who settle in these lands, nights and three days; and on the from the proportion of those who evening of Thursday was discovered fall away from their professions, by a sloop from St. Thomas, near especially of men,- from the very Spanish-town. At first the Captain rare occurrence of an influential per- supposed it to have been a large son being converted to the faith, it fish; but approaching nearer, he disseems almost impossible for those in covered a man in a reclining posthe higher walks of life, especially ture, nearly immersed in water. He men, to maintain a life of piety, ad. was taken on board insensible; and, orning the Gospel of Christ. A few, to all appearance, must have perished and but a few, there are, “ who in a few hours at most. faith prefer, and piety to God.” On reviving a little, his thirst was
Missionaries have witnessed many raging, but he felt little or no hun. pleasing instances of piety and affec- ger. When sufficiently recovered, tion among the slaves. The follow- he stated, that, having oars with ing is an interesting fact, equivalent him in the flat, on the first day he exerted himself a great deal to make in her heart," and constrained her to the harbour he left, but to no pur- enter. When she saw her son, she pose. On the second day he tried approached, and gazed intently upon again, but he had scarcely any him for a considerable time. When strength remaining. He did not ex- we engaged in prayer, she knelt by perience much painful sensation of his side, drew him to her bosom, cohunger or thirst, but felt his strength vered him with kisses, repeatedly decreasing very fast. On the second lifting her glazed eyes to heaven in night a shower of rain fell, some of pious gratitude. Prayer being ended, which he caught in his mouth, and she sat down by his side, and threw was much refreshed. On the third her arms round his neck. Then day he could sit up no longer ; bis suddenly starting, as if fearing that sight failed him ; a drowsiness came she was in a dream, she viewed him over him; he laid himself down, narrowly, and, stroking his head, with his head reclining on the side of seemed to say, “ Art thou my very the flat : in which situation he was son Mingo?” Being fully satisfied, found in the evening.
again she would embrace him, and On Sunday morning, he was landed again thank Heaven. During this from the vessel; and it was affecting affecting scene, the son kept bis to witness the crowds congratulating streaming eyes fixed on the Preacher, him on his merciful and unexpected or raised them to heaven. The next rescue from a watery grave. Though morning he called upon me, to thank he was not in the habit of attending me for remembering him in prayer. the house of God, on that morning Wishing, to use his own words, to the poor emaciated slave was seen give himself now to religion, I gave in the sanctuary, worshipping his bim suitable advice, and knelt with Preserver. His poor mother, a Me- him at the throne of grace. To him thodist, who had been in a state border. and to others I trust this merciful ing upon distraction, and would not Providence will be sanctified. Many be comforted, because she supposed continue to speak, with much feel. her son
was not,” was on her way ing, of the mercy of God, the to the chapel, when she was informed strength of a mother's affection, and that her son Mingo was yet alive; the grateful expressions of the resand, fearing that she would be over- cued slave. powered, and interrupt the service,
Jonathan CADMAN, her friends advised her not to enter
Methodist Missionary. the chapel, but wait till the conclu. Philipsburg, Saint Martin's, sion of the service. But “love was March 31st, 1834.
The Life, Character, and Literary Labours of Samuel Drew, A.M. By
his eldest Son. 8vo. pp. 530. 12s. Longman, London, 1834. Among the various responsibili- some of it, perhaps much of it, will ties of man, we can scarcely con- continue germinating, fructifying, ceive of a greater than that which and increasing to the end of time. arises from the publication of a This fearful responsibility he who work likely to possess a permanent intends to become an author should interest, and to exercise a perma. very strongly feel ; and, while prenent influence. The author lives, paring his designed work for the even when the man dies. He who press, examine every thought, and publishes a book sends it from his carefully weigh every expression, own control. He may see that he that, when the result of his labour has ferred; he may desire to with is sent forth into the world, he may draw his errors from circulation ; be satisfied that he did all that he but it is now too late. The seed could to make his book as little in. has been cast from bis hand, and jurious, and as extensively useful, as