"However, that's not all," said Mr. Bull, sternly. "Look at these poor children. Here's little Sally's back all black and blue, and Tommy's knees are growing crooked; and see how thin they all are! Are you not ashamed, sir, to treat your master's children in this way?" "It was not I, sir, that beat the children. It was Master Grumpy that you set over them to watch them; and, as to their getting thin, you know it was your own self that would not let the mill stop." Mr. Bull groaned, and acknowledged to himself that it was his own love of money that had been the cause of all this evil. "Ah, Watty, Watty," said he, you have plenty of excuses. I should not wonder if you deny next that it was you that burnt my toe, the first time I saw that precious face of yours." "Why, sir," said Watty, grinning, "you should not have gone to sleep with your feet on the fender." "Oh, you are a rogue, you are a rogue," said Mr. Bull, shaking his head gravely, but laughing at the same time, for he was never known to be long out of temper. 66 Well," said he, after a pause, "the long and short of it is this-that we must come to an understanding." "You are not going to turn me off, I hope," said Watty." However, if you do, I daresay I can get another place." "Why, no; I don't intend to turn you off, you are too useful for that: but we must get into more regular ways. Next time you travel with me, or your mistress, remember you are not to go more than twenty miles an hour." "Very well, sir," said Watty. my "And I shan't allow children to do any work," continued Mr. Bull, "until they are twelve years of age, and then only nine hours a-day, with a whole holyday on Saturday; so that they may get some learning, and be ready for church on Sundays." "Very well, sir," said Watty. "And I won't have Ned Carter or any of the labourers taken off their work at the farm. I don't think it's respectable to be borrowing corn from one's neighbours; besides, suppose they did not choose to let us have any-we should be in a pretty way then. So I am determined to have the farm kept in proper cultivation." "You will not get so much money by your farm as by the factory." "Perhaps not. But I have lived long enough in the world to learn that money is not the only thing to make a man happy. A wiser man than you or I, Watty, has said'There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing' and 'riches profit not in the day of wrath. I begin to think that I have been over-hasty to get rich, and have reaped more trouble than profit. Henceforth I intend to || B. There appears to be a great deal in what you say worth considering. But as it is for the most part new to me, I must study the Prayer-book a little more before I can form a just view. But now that I reflect upon the objections which were so magnified when I met you, I suspect that the question I was really asking myself during service, was not, "Is this edifying?" but "Can this be right?" A. Reflect a little more, and you will see that the structure of the liturgy itself is new to you, and that therefore any systematic exhibition of that structure must have the appearance of novelty. B. There is one practice, however, so unnatural, that I am sure you cannot defend it upon any sound principle. A. What do you mean? B. The chanting of the prayers by the clergyman. This took me quite by surprise and I am sure I have a right to object to this, as there is not a vestige of sanction for it in the Prayer-book. A. Are you quite sure of that? Do you remember the rubric before the litany, which you know is a collection of the most earnest and solemn prayers? B. In substance I do -"Here followeth the litany, to be used on Sundays, Wednesdays, and Fridays:" I think it runs somewhat in that way. A. I must bring you to book again. How much cavilling would be spared, if people were only to take the trouble to read their Prayer-books! You omitted the very point in question. "Here followeth the litany, or general supplication, to be sung or said after morning prayer," &c. You see the Church, sanctions the singing of the litany: nay, puts singing before saying: as the former, in fact, was anciently the usual practice. B. Oh, but perhaps that means to be read in a more solemn manner. A. There is no 66 perhaps" in the case; since it is a matter of record that the litany, and indeed all the prayers of the Morning and Evening Service have been sung by the clergy and choirs in cathedrals and certain other churches and chapels ever since the Reformation; and in most of those places the usage has been continued down to the present day. The rubric nowhere forbids it; in some places, as we have now seen, expressly mentions it; it. and the practice of the Church has sanctioned B. But granting that it may be right (as I have no doubt it is) to keep up this usage in places where it has been always observed, still do you not think that it would be better not to introduce it elsewhere? It is so unnatural. A. Unnatural! Is it unnatural to sing? B. No, not at proper times. But I think it is unnatural to sing the prayers. extremely good imitation of the original, to the Divine words of which, however, no rhyming translation can equal, or even approximate. Yet what was this which you sung? You see you called it a prayer, while joining in its performance. And so it is. Nothing in the whole liturgy has more the character of a prayer than this sentiment of the Psalmist. Yet you said, just now, that it is unnatural to sing prayers. But you were moved by the performance of this, Either your nature, then, must be unlike that of other men, or your position is a false one. But I suppose you will make an exception to your assertion in favour of rhyme. It is quite right to sing prayers in rhyme, but not in prose? B. Not exactly so: because, on reflection, I admit that it is as right to chant the prose psalms, as to sing the metrical version. A. What, then, is your objection to singing other prayers? But perhaps I was mistaken. You were only affected by the sentiment of the psalins, which so well responded to that of your own heart, in approaching God's presence, for his grace. The music had nothing to do with it? A. In other words, music, in this instance, heightened the effect of a prayer? A. Unnatural can only be applied to the use of any of our faculties in a manner contrary to what nature, or to speak more properly, to what our Creator intended. It is unnatural for a man to go on all-fours, or to stand upon his head, but not to use a graceful posture while standing on his feet, even though that posture may have been acquired by education. The gestures of a clumsy savage are not more natural than those of a wellbred gentleman, nay, are less natural, because less justice is done to nature. It is unnatural || to bellow, or scream, or to whine through the nose, or to make any of those discordant noises often employed by ranting teachers of schism. But it is quite in accordance with na- B. The music certainly heightened the ture to cultivate and refine the powers bestow-effect: it was in such perfect accordance with ed upon us: in other words to find out their the sentiment. noblest and most appropriate use. Solemn and devotional reading is quite as natural as a careless, or tame, or slovenly method; just as to be neat and clean, and well-dressed, is quite as natural as to go unshorn, unwashed, or half naked. Of course I do not mean pomposity or affectation: these are unnatural, because they are endeavouring to express sentiments which are not felt. But if a man be in earnest, it is quite natural for him to employ the finest tones of the voice, and the best modulation upon matters in which our highest, affections and noblest powers are or ought to be engaged. Therefore I do not hold it unnatural to sing the prayers. In fact, I think you are confounding the two words unusual and unnatural. You do not, I think, object to sacred music, even in church? B. Far from it. I enjoy the parochial psalmody very much. It was only last Sunday that I was very much affected, and I hope edified, by the singing of a psalm, which is a great favourite of mine, in the church of A. What was the psalm? B. It was the fifth. The first stanza I particularly liked. "Lord, hear the voice of my complaint: To Thee alone, my King, my God, A. I do not wonder at the effect produced upon you by this passage, which (as often is the case in both our metrical versions) is an 1 Pompous or affected people are always thinking more of themselves than of the business they are about, and are therefore not really in earnest. B. Certainly. And, now that I think of it, there is a little anthem, sung occasionally in our church, of which I am very fond, for the same reason. I mean, "Lord of all power and might:" which, to be sure, is a prayer, one of our collects. And then I must also admit that I like the chanting of the responses between the commandments, which are prayers, and very solemn ones. I see, then, there are cases in which prayers may be sung: though, to say the truth, I have been accustomed to consider psalmody as praise. A. And so doubtless it is. Every prayer which a Christian makes is an act of praise. When he asks for any thing in the name of our Lord, he virtually praises God for the means of grace and the hope of glory through Christ. But in all the psalms (with I think but one exception, and that not perhaps a real one) direct praise is ascribed to God, in addition to prayer. And at the end of each we sing Glory to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; thus recognising the Christian character and application of the psalms. B. This is all very true. Still I feel, somehow, though I can't well explain it, that clergymen ought not to chant the prayers, which are too solemn to be sung. A. Not surely more solemn than the psalms, or than the Te Deum, in which we make the most awful prayers that human beings can frame: for instance, when we pray our Lord to help his servants, whom he hath redeemed with his precious blood. Then, is singing of necessity a light and trivial thing? If so, it ought not to be employed in church at all. Or, is it right for the laity, but wrong for the clergy to sing? B. No; of course not. They may take their part with the choir or congregation. Indeed, I think it a very great advantage when a clergyman is able and willing to lead his choir, and to join in so edifying a part of the service. But I do not think he should sing apart from the congregation. A. I altogether agree with you. In church he should always join with the people or choir. It would be quite contrary to the principle of our Church to sing or say, discriminating which is meant to be "common," that is, public, by himself, when in church. B. Still, if I understand you, you were defending the custom of singing those prayers which the clergyman repeats alone. A. I was maintaining the propriety of singing all the prayers. But all the prayers in our liturgy are congregational: made in the name of the people, though not always repeated audibly by their lips. Yet in a part of every prayer they audibly join, either by saying the "Amen," without which the prayer would be incomplete, or else by the responses which follow the versicles. Now, it really seems to me that there is no difference as to the propriety of singing these prayers, whether repeated simultaneously by the clergyman and the people, or alternately. The node of repetition cannot alter their essential character, or sentiment. B. But surely prayers, after all, are very different from psalms. A. Are they so very different? Do you remember any of the versicles? B. I suppose you mean those short sentences like "O Lord, open thou our lips?" &c. A. Exactly. Now whence is that one you have mentioned taken? B. I can't remember. It is like Scripture, I think. A. It is nothing less than the 15th verse of the 51st psalm, slightly altered: "Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord, and my mouth shall shew thy praise." And so of the other versicles, which, with one exception, are taken from the psalms. So if it be allowable to chant the psalms (as you have already admitted), it is just as allowable to chant portions of them. There is nothing, then, objectionable, in the abstract, to singing the prayers. B. Still I do not see why they should be chanted upon one note. That is surely indefinite. A. This is quite another question, which affects the mode, not the principle. You would not surely prefer having each collect sung to a tune? . B. No: that would be too laboured. A. I agree with you. The principle of the Church in this respect is to reserve the air for those short prayers, called versicles, which are immediately completed by the choir. At other times there is an uniform sustaining of the voice on one of its perfect tones, which is at once musical, distinct, grave, simple, and, as I am persuaded, devotional. B. Why, really, I see nothing in itself undevotional. But I was not prepared for it. A. Again, I must say, that the study of the Prayer-book is the best preparative for any usage of the Church which is not commonly adopted. The reason of the thing (for every authorised custom of the Church is reasonable) would at once come home to the mind, were the origin and nature of our formularies more carefully considered. B. But, now that I recollect, there is one part of the service which I disliked very much. I mean the singing of the Nicene Creed. Is not that altogether absurd? 66 A. The Prayer-book expressly mentions the singing of all the creeds; which are to be sung or said." I cannot be so disrespectful as to let my limited judgment call any thing allowed by the Church absurd. B. I really must again plead ignorance or forgetfulness of the rubric here, or I would not have used the term. But can you explain to me why it is sung? It is neither a prayer nor a hymn. A. What do you call the Te Deum? B. A hymn, of course. But that has nothing to do with my remark. A. Pardon me. The Te Deum is, in fact, a creed. It is a confession of God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. "We acknowledge thee to be the Lord." "We believe that thou shalt come to be our Judge." Nay, the topics are the same as those of the Nicene Creed. And confession of God's attributes, and acts, and of the divine system instituted by him is, in fact, as I before observed, an act of praise. The hymn of the angels in heaven," Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty," is a creed; and as the Te Deum is a creed, the creed is a hymn. So the Church has considered it; for it has been sung in western Christendom for at least 800 years. It is, by the way, a curious fact, that many persons have objected to sing things in prose which they have adopted as hymns when put into rhyme. Whittingham, a puritan dean of Durham, in old times, who put down the choral service in his cathedral, had metrical versions of the creeds, Lord's prayer, and even of the ten commandments sung. So far will prejudice carry men. B. What you have now said has never struck me before. Indeed, I perceive that we should understand the propriety of things much better, were we to compare the different parts of the liturgy together, and consider But their mutual relations and true intent. one word more before we part; for I see it is nearly time for evening service, at which I feel a greater desire to be present since our conversation. It is about the chanting of the psalms. Don't think I demur to the practice: far from it. But it has occurred to me, that as we have two very tolerable metrical versions, it seems preferable (since the choice is allowed us), that we should reserve the musical performance for these. I do not of course presume to prefer the metrical to the literal translation; for this would be exalting man's work above that of the Holy Spirit. Yet, it seems, that for musical purposes metre is more suitable than prose. And as we cannot literally translate the Hebrew, and at the same time preserve its metre, we cannot do the translation justice by the way we sing it in the choir. A. To this I can only say, that it is the opinion of most learned men, that Hebrew poetry never had what we call metre; that is to say, there is no measuring of feet or syllables. The psalms are poems; but their poetry is one of sentiment. And yet this kind of verse has a very exact method of its own: a regulation of the thoughts and words, by rules as precise as those which prescribe the long or short feet and syllables in classical and all modern poetry. But since sentiments are always translatable, the essential poetical structure of the psalms need not be lost in any language into which they are translated. Now the chants of the Church are so constructed as to be the most appropriate musical vehicles of this divine kind of verse. As the words of the psalms are not restricted by syllabic metre, so the chants are not restricted by the uniform measure of an air or tune, such as those to which the metrical versions are set. There is, indeed, what is called "rhythm" in the psalms; that is, a melodious flow, very different from mere prose, as must be evident to any tolerable car; arising from the just distribution of words and sentiments and to this the beautiful flow and cadences of the ancient chants correspond. B. I think I perceive what you mean; but to understand it better I will pay more attention to the psalms at the service this evening. AUSTRALIA. CAPTAIN GREY'S "Travels in North-west and Western Australia" (a book which, if possible, should be in every lending library and bookclub) contain the narrative of several exploring expeditions in the hitherto unknown regions of the continent of Australia, which in all probability is destined to be, in no very distant period, the seat of a vast civilised nation, deriving its origin from our race, and not inferior to our eldest daugh ter in America. At present it is occupied by a few straggling tribes of savages, whose manners and ways of living are graphically described by our high-spirited and amiable author. The following extracts will give some idea both of the adventures which he met with, and of the condition of the natives with whom he came into contact : "December 4.-We started at sunrise, and travelled about six miles in the direction of 17o, and then halted for breakfast at a lake called Boongarrup. The whole of the country we passed over this morning was sandy and bad, being thinly clothed with Banksia trees; but immediately about the lake there was, as usual, good land. We started immediately after breakfast, as the natives told us we had a long journey to make. Our course now lay in the direction of 13°. The country we passed over was still of the same sandy nature; and after travelling about ten miles, we made another lake. The natives here saw the recent signs of strange blacks, and insisted upon my coming to a halt, whilst they painted themselves, and made sundry I urged my remonadditions to their toilette. said we should soon see some very pretty girls; strances upon this head, but it was in vain. They that I might go on if I liked, but that they would not move until they had completed their preparations for meeting their fair friends. I therefore made the best of it, and sat myself down, whilst they continued adorning themselves. This being done to their satisfaction, they came and requested my opinion as to their appearance; and as I intimated my most unqualified approval, they became in high spirits, and gave a very animated description of the conquests they expected to make. "This weighty affair having been completed, we again moved on, the natives keeping a careful lookout for the friends they expected to see. They at length espied one sitting in the rushes, looking for small fish; but no sooner did he see the approaching party, than he took to his heels as hard as he could, and two others, whom we had not before observed, followed his example. "Our native comrades now commenced hallooing to the fugitives, stating that I had come from the white people to bring them a present of rice and flour. Moreover, Jen-na shouted out to his uncle, "Am not I your nephew,-why then should you run away?" This, and similar speeches, had, at length, the desired effect. First one of them advanced, trembling from head to foot; and when I went forward to meet him, and shook hands with him, it re-assured the others, and they also joined our party, yet still not without evident signs of fear. An old man now came up, who could not be induced to allow me to approach him, appearing to regard me with a sort of stupid amazement; neither horses nor any other of those things which the least charm for him, but his eyes were always powerfully excited the curiosity of the others had fixed on me, with a look of eagerness and anxiety which I was unable to account for. "We explained to the strange natives that we intended to halt for the night in this neighbourhood, and asked them to shew us a good spot with plenty of water and grass. At the same time those I had with me stated to the others, that unless the women and children came in, I would give no rice or flour. The declaration was, however, wholly unauthorised by my sanction, and arose from their desire of exhibiting their personal attractions to the ladies of these parts; but, feeling rather disposed to see a little savage flirtation, I raised no objection to it. "The oldest of the natives who appeared to regard me with so much curiosity went off for the|| purpose of collecting the women, whilst we proceeded to our place of halt. After going about three miles in a due north direction, we made a river, coming from an E. and by S. direction, and here called by the natives Goon-mar-ra-rup; it lies in rather a deep valley, and at this point consisted of large pools, connected by a running stream about twenty yards wide. There was plenty of wild fowl upon these pools, and Ugat soon shot some for us. "The scenery here was very picturesque: high wooded hills were upon each side of us, and the valley was open and rather thinly timbered; but the few trees it contained were of considerable size and beauty. Beneath one of these we prepared our bivouack,-the strange natives doing their utmost to render themselves useful. They had never before seen white people, and the quickness with which they understood our wants, and hastened to gratify them, was very satisfactory. "After we had tethered the horses, and made ourselves tolerably comfortable, we heard loud voices from the hills above us: the effect was fine, -for they really almost appeared to float in the air; and as the wild cries of the women, who knew not our exact position, came by upon the wind, I thought it was well worth a little trouble to hear these savage sounds under such circumstances. Our guides shouted in return, and gradually the approaching cries came nearer and nearer. "I was, however, wholly unprepared for the scene that was about to take place. A sort of procession came up, headed by two women, down whose cheeks tears were streaming. The eldest of these came up to me, and looking for a moment at me, said, "Gwa, gwa, bundo bal,"--"Yes, yes, in truth it is him;" and then throwing her arms round me, cried bitterly, her head resting on my breast; and although I was totally ignorant of what their meaning was, from mere motives of compassion I offered no resistance to her caresses, however disagreeable they might be, for she was old, ugly, and filthily dirty; the other younger one knelt at my feet, also crying. At last the old lady, emboldened by my submission, deliberately kissed me on each cheek, just in the manner a French woman would have done; she then cried a little more, and at length relieving me, assured me that I was the ghost of her son, who had some time before been killed by a spear-wound in his breast. The younger female was my sister; but she, whether from motives of delicacy, or from any imagined backwardness on my part, did not think proper to kiss me. 66 My new mother expressed almost as much delight at my return to my family, as my real mother would have done had I been unexpectedly restored to her. As soon as she left me, my brothers and father (the old man who had previously been so frightened) came up and embraced me after their manner, that is, they threw their arms round my waist, placed their right knee against my right knee, and their breast against my breast, holding me in this way for several minutes. During the time that the ceremony lasted, I, according to the native custom, preserved a grave and mournful expression of countenance. "This belief, that white people are the souls of departed blacks, is by no means an uncommon superstition amongst them; they themselves never having an idea of quitting their own land, cannot imagine others doing it;-and thus, when they see white people suddenly appear in their country, and settling themselves down in particular spots, they imagine that they must have formed an attachment for this land in some other state of existence; and hence conclude the settlers were at one period black men, and their own relations. Likenesses, either real or imagined, complete the delusion; and from the manner of the old woman I have just alluded to, from her many tears, and from her warm caresses, I feel firmly convinced that she really believed I was her son, whose first thought, upon his return to earth, had been to re-visit his old mother, and bring her a present. I will go still farther, and say, that although I did not encourage this illusion, I had not the heart to try to undeceive the old creature and to dispel her dream of happiness. Could I have remained long enough to have replaced this vain impression by a consoling faith, I would gladly have done it; but I did not like to destroy this belief, and leave her no other in the place of it. "The men next proceeded to embrace their relation, Jen-na, in the same manner they had before done me; and this part of the ceremony was now concluded." "On quitting the camp in the morning, I and my two companions traversed for some time portions of the elevated sandstone plains which I had passed on a former occasion; and after an hour's walking through the gloomy stringy bark forest which covered them, we reached a stream of water running in a shallow valley; and as there was a bad route down to this, I halted to make a road which the ponies could traverse. There was plenty of water and forage hereabouts, and a fine level country for our proceedings, so that we were all in high hopes and spirits, and, as I then believed, our principal difficulties were at an end. "Whilst at work at the road, we all thought that we heard a native call, and that others answered him. Having listened for a repetition of these sounds, we again heard them, but they were so indistinct in character, that none of us this time agreed as to what they were-I imagined that it was the call of a bird, and when I again heard the same sound very faintly in the distance, I felt convinced it was not a human voice, and proceeded on my way perfectly at ease. "My attention was soon occupied by other objects. I saw from a hill I ascended some remarkable blue peaks to the south: this gave us fresh hopes; and nothing occurred till about threequarters of an hour after we had first heard the native call, when we arrived at a short descent covered with rocks, from which started a large kangaroo; I got a fair shot at it, and knocked it over, but it sprang up again and hopped away; we then tried to track it, but soon lost its footsteps in the scrubby vegetation of the gloomy forest. |