ported their lawful monarch, yet I am sorry to say, that his cause was disgraced by others who were men of riotous dissolute lives. Such was the character of my new master-" a short life and a merry one," was his motto. Night after night he used to sit on me at the head of his table surrounded by a set of uproarious drunken companions, who made the old house re-echo with their rude and boisterous songs. Such conduct greatly scandalized the quiet people of the town, and did the cause of King Charles no good. It was while in the service of this gentleman that I was in the greatest danger I ever experienced in my life, and had nearly come to a premature end. For my master and his guests getting very drunk began to fight together with the chairs and table, and so violent was the uproar that I, the innocent witness of the scene, had an arm and a leg broken, and a great portion of my clothing stripped off my back. This, thought I, should be a lesson to honest people not to get into bad company, for they are sure to be implicated in the mischief. It so happened that early the next morning, while my master was sleeping off the effects of his carouse, the sheriff's officer entered the house, and took possession of all his effects for the benefit of his creditors. My master was taken to gaol, and all his household goods were sold to pay his debts. When I was put up to auction, my appearance was so miserable, owing to the injuries which I had recently received, that no one would bid for me, and I was pushed aside into a corner of the room and forgotten as a worthless article. There I lay for several years in the old deserted house; the rats and mice, finding no one to disturb them, came and went as they pleased, until, having gathered up all the crumbs that lay about, and finding no more sustenance, they withdrew to better quarters. The moths began to prey on my old tattered garments, and quickly demolished them. The worms tried to pierce me, but finding that I was of tough heart of oak, they were unable to make an impression. It was lamentable to witness the condition of the old house, especially to one like myself, who had the honour of the venerable place at heart, and had lived so many days of chequered existence within its walls. The dust lay an inch thick on the floor, and you might have swept up whole baskets full. The bats and the sparrows went in and out through the broken panes, and made their nests in the cornices, and on the mantel-piece. Such a dismal scene of devastation I never witnessed, and all caused by the extravagancies of my late drunken master. When things come to the worst, they cannot help mending. A new owner took possession of the house. When first he came into the room where I was lying, covered with dust, rent and broken as I have before described, I endeavoured in vain to make out from his appearance what he could be. He was a grave man, in a suit of sad coloured garments, but not a clergyman evidently, nor yet a lawyer. After surveying the room, and giving orders for its repair, he came up to the corner in which I was placed, and poked me with a little gold-headed cane which he carried in his hand, as if disdaining to touch me. I thought he was going to give directions that I should be burnt in the old grate, in order to help in airing the room. But after inspecting me closely, a sudden thought seemed to strike him, and presently he sent for a cabinet maker, and placed me in his charge. The worthy man soon made me a new arm, spliced my broken leg, and then padding me all round with soft wool, he covered me over with morocco leather. I never was so handsomely, or so comfortably clothed in my whole life. Besides this, he scraped the dust and dirt carefully away from all the woodwork that was exposed to view, and gave me a coat of varnish which showed my rich grain to advantage, and so completely metamorphosed me that I hardly knew myself. "Well," thought I, my master is determined to have a good easy chair, and no doubt will take some comfortable naps in me." But in this I reckoned without my host; for instead of being placed in the chimney-corner, where I had been accustomed to stand, I was set exactly opposite a window, from which I could look upon the neat garden, with its gravel walks and box trimmings; and my master when he came into the room never took the slightest notice of me, but sat down at the table in an ordinary, meanlooking chair, which had no pretensions either to comfort or beauty. I wondered at my master's taste, but could not complain. He had an undoubted right to do what he chose with his own. 66 A few days after my master arrived, an incident happened which explained to me the service which I was expected to perform. The door opened, and a very doleful-visaged person entered the room, with his head bandaged up, and his face very much inflamed. At my master's request the visitor took his seat on me, but with so marked a repugnance that I felt quite affronted, Why any person should object to sit on me in my present beautiful condition I could not imagine. The stranger at last sat down and opened his mouth, and my master having looked into it very gravely, uttered a few words, and presently took out a case of instruments, one of which he applied to the stranger's tooth, and with a skilful effort extracted it from his jaw. The secret was now explained-my master was a dentist, and I was destined to accommodate the unfortunate wights who came to have their teeth drawn. It was not altogether the posi tion in life which I should have chosen for myself had the choice been given me, for I soon perceived that I was an object of great suspicion and aversion to my master's visitors. No sooner did one of them enter the room than he cast a sort of jealous anxious glance at me. But it generally happened that before parting company we were much better friends, for the aching tooth being extracted, the patient no longer remembered the pain of the operation, but was thankful for the removal of so disagreeable a companion. At any rate my mode of life, if not agreeable, was useful, and that was enough to render me very well content. Besides, I had the opportunity, under my present master, of seeing a good deal of various characters. The extraction of a tooth is no slight test of courage. Some grown up persons who ought to have known better, could not make up their minds to sit down on me. I have known more than one bolt outright, and run out of the house. Young gentlemen used sometimes to kick and squeal, and require to be held down by force. Others, manly little fellows, would take their seat with the greatest courage, and patiently go through any operation that was found necessary without uttering a single cry. I had a great respect for such boys as those, and felt sure that they would grow up to be good and useful men. I continued many years in the service of this respectable dentist, and always think of him with much regard, as a man to whom, in fact, I owe my life and present position in society, for he so much repaired my constitution and improved my looks that I have never again run the risk of being thrust from my place, but have always been treated with marked consideration. It is true that for a long time I was considered old fashioned, and little notice was taken of me except as a curiosity. But of late years I have received more attention. No one comes into the room without admiring me. I am told that several spurious imitations have been made, and sold at a high price to gentlemen who have built modern Elizabethan houses. As for myself I am in high feather. My master's daughter, who is a charming young lady, has worked me a most beautiful cover of worsted work, in splendid colours, of which I am not a little proud. My master too has recently treated me with a spring cushion. The latter I consider to be a doubtful advantage. Being of the old school I dislike modern innovations. Queen Elizabeth I am sure never sat down on a spring cushion; and unless I am much mistaken spring cushions will not long keep their ground. At present I am quite the fashion, admired and courted by all, my example looked up to, my very defects imitated. But I must not be too much elated by my prosperity. While I enjoy the present I must prepare for the evil day, which all must come to. My friends, I have told you my story, and have done. CHURCH MUSIC. NATURE is full of music! Its music is sacred, for it is in praise of GOD. Coming of GoD, and inspired of GOD, what better guide can we have than nature for our sacred music? Our Church music, now-a-days, is often most unnatural and unfitting; as if we would insert among the staid ornaments of an old Gothic cathedral, the ivied wine-cup of Bacchus, or the winged rod of Mercury. Not that Church music should be sad and mournful, any more than that the carved cherubim of the cathedrals should never be lighted by a ray of sunlight. But that, as we would dim and soften the glare of that light ere it enters the sanctuary of GOD, by the stained and tinted glass, so we should soothe and temper the liveliness of our Church music, by the solemn and sacred thoughts of His Majesty Whom we are praising. Let the Church's music be like her services; so simple, that the lisping lips of infancy can speak understandingly; so solemn, that they breathe the majesty of GOD; so sublime, that the cultivated intelligence of educated men cannot improve them. Simple, solemn, and sublime! Indeed, make it the first two, and it must be the last. No better practical guide can be devised, for the direction of the instrumental part of Church music, than that only such music should be played as suits the organ. At once capable of all the beauties of other instruments, and possessing peculiar and most exquisite characteristics of its own, the organ breathes, under the touch of a man with a heart, the truest devotion. It seems to utter the songs of the martyrs, and saints, and seraphs, which are carved upon its frame. What, then, can be unfit for Church music which would suit such an instrument? Why should our organists play pieces from the operas of Norma and Lucrezia, when the Creation and the Seasons of Haydn, and the sublime choruses of Handel can still roll out their majesty upon our ear? What an utter incongruity to perform in the house of GOD the music which is written for the theatre and opera. Nor is it only in selected voluntaries that the music of our Churches is not Church music. We have said that it should be simple. That music which will be acceptable to the "Father of Lights" is the united voices of a whole congregation, rising to heaven like the incense. Not the difficult performance of two or three hired voices; not a new chant or a new tune every Sunday. We sing the same words to our chants that were sung centuries ago. Why must they be dressed in new and often ill-fitting clothes every Sunday? The modern invention of pews has become less used of late; and we trust that free seats and voluntary choirs may soon be things taken for granted wherever there is a Church, that the choir of the house of prayer may be altogether different from the orchestra of a theatre.-The Missionary. RETROSPECT OF LIFE. "So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom."-Psalm xc. 12. I. OH, for the joys of blissful infancy, The sacred calm of childhood's happier hour, Unfettered ranged throughout the mystic bower Of all-creative fancy-when the voice Of Virtue whispered near, "Though tempests lower, II. 'Twas quickly past, and manhood's mellowing prime III. Wish not, but weep, for these! Thy stripling years (If, haply, this thy sin may be forgiven) IV. And if, though still with many a weight opprest, The hand of mercy lead thee on to rest, Cast not a lingering look on life again, Where sin, with sorrow lurking in her train, To the strong mountains of Thy peace, and gain Sole beacon-light of hope, thy SAVIOUR's sacrifice! КАРРА. |