It is not a matter of surprise, that from the time that man was driven out of Eden, to the present hour, as we have every reason to believe, religion has made great use of music to aid her disciples. It was early taught in the schools of the prophets, and from them went through the length and breadth of the land of God's people. Not only so, but God made special provision for its use in giving to the church those inspired songs which bear the name of David, and which will be sung as long as the church exists on the earth. From the time that David strung his harp down to the third century of the Christian era, music was exceedingly simple, touching, and effective. It was, so to speak, little else than the music of nature, consisting in a fine delivery of the most beautiful and touching poetry. Music in the most ancient ages of the world, was the parent of poetry. The prophetess Deborah wrote her wonderfully sublime song, that it might be committed to memory and carried home by the army of Barak. Even the great poem of Homer, it is said, is the daughter of music; a composition which has probably had more influence upon the character of man, than any other book, the Bible alone excepted. "From Homer," says Pope, "the poets drew their inspiration, the critics their rules, and the philosophers the defence of their opinions; every author was fond to use his name, and every profession wrote books upon him till they swelled to libraries. The warriors formed themselves upon his heroes, and the oracles delivered his verses for answer."

God has made the ear to love music; but this is not all; he has created a most wonderful musical instrument for the use of every one. Between the top of the throat and the root of the tongue he has made an enlargement, a cavity of two or three inches, and most curiously lined it with delicate membranes, so stretched that the air passing through them makes a sound as through the reed of a clarionet. This would be a curious instrument, even if it admitted of no variation of sound, but it is furnished with fine cartilages which contract and expand the cavity at pleasure, in different ways, so as to give different vibrations, and of course, different tones. In this small space, then, in the throat of every human being, is an instrument with a compass of from two to three octaves, which has the command of every semitone and subdivision of note, swell, thrill, &c., and not necessarily Ff

exposed to the imperfections of artificial instruments, but so clear, so rich, so sweet, when well used, as to be the highest standard of comparison, in these points, for the flute, clarionet, piano-forte, and organ.

Now think of this wonderful instrument bestowed upon every one by the hand of God; think how the ear is so created to delight in melody, that the highest and sweetest emblem of heaven is the innumerable company of saints and angels round the throne, singing and praising God and the Lamb; and then tell me if singing ought not to have a very prominent place in teaching children -in forming their characters? I plead on this subject with the earnestness of one who was himself neglected in this particular, in childhood, and who has, in consequence, suffered a loss which no language can describe. The wrong is no less severe and cruel, because the child does not feel it at the time. I plead for every child.

Till within a short time the opinion has been almost universal, that but few could be taught to sing; that the talent for music was a peculiar gift of nature bestowed upon only a few, and that they, favored ones, were to have it to themselves. Parents have neglected their children, and unless they took up singing of themselves, have decided, that unfortunately their children had no ear for music. The opinion has become so common, that but a small part of our congregations even pretend to sing, or think they can. Nor can they, as they now are; but would it have been so, if the proper pains had been taken with their childhood? How much pains do parents take to teach their children to speak correctly? Had children no better opportunity to hear speaking, or of being taught to speak, than they have to learn to sing, would any more be able to talk than are now able to sing? I shall not say that every child who can speak might sing; but I believe the exceptions are very rare. Allow me to present a few facts on this point:

In an orphan asylum in Germany, containing two hundred children, there are only two certainly who have not learned to sing, and that too, correctly. These children are probably taught early, and have great pains taken with them; whether this be or be not so, this fact has great weight in deciding such a question.

In all the common district schools in Germany, singing and music are taught, and every child is as much expected to read, and write, and perform music, as to read, and

write, and recite any other lesson. They are all respectable performers, and many of them proficients.

"The reading of musical notation is learned even in the snow-covered huts of Iceland. In passing through the continent of Europe, the traveller finds every festi. val, whether national or religions, graced with music. Serenades from the common people, are heard every night in the streets. Music echoes from the shops, the boats, and the harvest fields. Some of the best performances of Mozart's difficult pieces are said to proceed from the privates of Prussian regiments. As a general thing, every house in Germany and Switzerland has

some musical instrument.

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"I once stopped at a German settlement of no great size, where I was invited to hear some music at the house of a mechanic. Here a small company performed, vocally and instrumentally, almost the whole of Haydn's Creation. The master of the house, a blacksmith, more than sixty years of age, took the first violin; his aged wife in spectacles, gave us a vocal part: the eldest son, a joiner, from a neighboring village, sat down at a Leipsic piano forte, on which, after tuning it, he executed with great skill the whole accompaniment: several young men and women filled the remainder of the score. boy, five years of age, was pointed out to me as beginning to play on the violin. Upon inquiry, I found there was not a house in that town without a piano-forte, or some keyed instrument. The evening's entertainment has of ten occurred to me as illustrating the happy influence of music upon domestic life and social habits. If you would have young people love home, induce them to cultivate music. It will beguile many a winter night, which might otherwise be worse than wasted. Few pleasures are cheaper, or more innocent, or more within the home circle. Almost all foreigners are proficients. A few years ago, a party of emigrants encamped for the night on a small eminence, about half a mile from my residence. About sunset we were surprised by the most delightful sounds wafted across the valley by those sojourners. It appeared to be their evening hymn, accompanied with horns. The effect was indescribable.

"Parents ought to place a proper value on music, both as a pleasure and a moral improvement. Their boy may whistle, or sing, dance, or twang the Jew's harp, if he choose; but they no more think that music is a thing demanding their attention, countenance, or supervision,

than that they should cultivate the hoop, the ball, or skating."

When a gentleman wishes to have his daughter taught to play on the piano-forte, the question in these days is not,"Has the child an ear for music?' but, if the father can afford the instrument and the tuition, her music teacher will engage to take care of the rest, and to make her, if not a proficient, at least such a performer as will be the delight of her parents. This could not be so if the power of being a musician must always be innate.

The Puritans of New England, and the Moravians of Pennslyvania, almost without exception, were accustomed to have singing at their family devotions, in which all the members of the family soon learned to take a part. So with the Scotch Covenanters; they were called “a psalm-singing generation," in fact, because all, old and young, were accustomed to sing.

It has been found at the present day, that good teachers of music can go into our common schools, and take children as they rise, aud teach them all to sing. There will be, to be sure, cases of organic defect, just as there are cases in which the eye has been known to mistake red for green, in which singing cannot be taught. These are exceptions; but were the seasons of childhood faithfully improved, few would be pronounced unqualified by nature to sing the songs of Zion. Childhood, however, is the right time to form right habits. Find the family where the parents are singers, and the children are almost universally able to sing from imitation.

In the few cases in which the attempt has been made to teach a school to sing, and it has failed, I would suggest whether it has not been because the music was not sufficiently simple. A child may be taught even mathematics, but you must begin with what is very simple. The Methodists seldom fail to get all their children to sing their simple music, The following is from the pen of Wesley. "About 3 o'clock in the afternoon of the Lord's day, I met between nine hundred and a thousand of the children belonging to our Sunday-schools in Bolton. I never saw such a sight before. They were all exactly clean, as well as plain in their apparel. All were serious and well-behaved; many, both boys and girls, had as beautiful faces as I believe England or Europe can afford. When they all sung together, and none of them out of tune, the melody was beyond that of any theatre. And, what is best of all, many of them truly

fear God, and some rejoice in his salvation. These are a pattern to all the town. And this I must avow, there is not such a set of singers iu any of the Methodist congregations in the three kingdoms as in this town. There cannot be; for we have near a hundred such trebles, boys and girls, selected out of our Sunday-schools accurately taught, as are not to be found together in any chapel, cathedral, or music room within the four seas."

SELECTED POETRY.

WHO IS MY NEIGHBOUR?

Thy neighbour? It is he whom thou

Hast power to aid and bless

Whose aching heart or burning brow
Thy soothing hand may press.

Thy neighbour? 'Tis the fainting poor,
Whose eye, with want, is dim,
Whom hunger sends from door to door;
Go thou and succour him.

Thy neighbour? 'Tis the weary man,
Whose years art at their brim,

Bent low with sickness, cares, and pain ;

Go thou and comfort him.

Thy neighbour? "Tis the heart bereft

Of every earthly gem;

Widow and orphan helpless left:-
Go thou and shelter them.

Thy neighbour? Yonder toiling slave,

Fettered in thought and limb,

Whose hopes are all beyond the grave ;--
Go thou and ransom him.

Whene'er thou meet'st a human form

Less favoured than thine own,

Remember 'tis thy neighbour worm,

Thy brother, or thy son.

Oh pass not, pass not heedless by;

Perhaps thou canst redeem

The breaking heart from misery :-
Go, share thy lot with him.