invincible ignorance, and blesses the faith, notwithstanding the superstition.' More than once I have expressed, both in prose and verse, a persuasion, that

The prayers which from a pious heart proceed, Though misdirected, reach the ear of Heaven.'

I would not condemn this form of superstition, if it were not far more injurious in its general and sure effect, than it ever can be beneficial in individual instances.

Were it not for this consideration, I would say with Wordsworth in his youth,

If the rude waste of human error bear One flower of hope, oh pass and leave it there!' But it is the tendency of the Romish system always to interpose some crafty device between the soul and its Creatorto intercept its worship-to clip the wings of its aspirations--to debase its thoughts, and deaden its very prayers. Well might the apostle warn his hearers against those false teachers, who would through covetousness make merchandize of them;' and well might the wisest of men expose the folly of him, who for health calleth upon that which is weak; for life prayeth to that which is dead; for aid humbly beseecheth that which hath least means to help.'"-Pp. 135–137.

That these Vindications of the Protestantism of the Church of England are not composed in a spirit of unnecessary hostility to Romanism, we could shew from many passages. The author is not one of those hot zealots, who deny the Romanists to be Christians.

"The points of agreement are so many and so important, that the members of of the one church who will not acknowledge those of the other to be their fellowchristians, shew themselves to be deficient in the fundamental virtue of christian charity. In the general dealings of society, and in the intercourse between nation and nation, it behoves us to remember these, and these only. But the points of difference are not less important."P. 15.

He has a right to assert his impar. tiality and willingness to make allowances in his former historical work.

"Sir, if I wrote for party purposes, and merely with temporary views, I should be more solicitous to please some, and more careful not to offend others. My desire, as an historian, has ever been to represent all persons and all parties in the truest light, not in the strongest; neither dissembling the errors nor palliating the offences of those whom I consider

as entitled, on the whole, to the gratitude and esteem of posterity, nor withholding any thing that may abate our abhorrence for those who have rendered themselves infamous. I have always allowed full weight for those motives, however fallacious, by which good men are sometimes led astray, and even bad ones not unfrequently deceive themselves. Judging of actions by the immutable standard of right and wrong, I have endeavoured to judge of men according to the circumstances of their age, country, situation, and even time of life, glad to discover something which may extenuate the criminality of the agent, even when I pronounce the severest condemnation of the act. With this purpose, and in this temper, the Book of the Church was composed. But never will I affect a reputation for candour, (as that term is now abused,) by compromising principles of eternal importance; nor is that current liberality to be expected from me, which, if it does not act like a palsy upon the heart, taking from it all sense of indignation at what is base and atrocious, all feelings of admiration at what is virtuous and exalted, perverts its perceptions, so as to make evil appear good, and good evil."-Pp. 45, 46.

We have cited none of the anecdotes and illustrations, which give so vivid a character to the worktheir connexion with the argument is their great value, and that could not be shewn but at too great an expense of space. Even Southey thinks of himself, that he may have been too full of proofs; "the steed of the pen having," as the Persians say, "got foose upon the plain of prolixity, outran his intention" of completing a demolition of all Mr Butler's fal lacies.

Our opinion, then, on the whole, is, that a production better fitted to disabuse an intelligent mind, hampered in the sophistry, or fascinated by the phantasmagoric illusions of the Romish Church, can hardly be pointed out; nor is it less estimable as a preventative for minds yet unassailed. Good logical heads, indeed, may be sent to take part in the metaphysical skirmishes of theologians, and may range themselves under Bellarmine or Barrow, as the hairbalance of the scales may to their eyes incline. But for every-day readers of ordinary education, the atmosphere of that high region is too thin for daily breath-it may do

for an occasional visit; but they must settle their doubts, and choose their course, on a more earthly level. Now, the sort of treatise we have been recommending brings the affair more home to our businesses and our bosoms. Any one may safely reason, that, if Romanism be in truth such as it is here exhibited in genuine quotations from its own advocates, from their own words, their own declarations and requisitions, their own records of their deeds-if this be their portrait of what they conceive to be " pure and undefiled religion," then their vaunt of a per

petual succession of miracles is no more than is needful to prove it. Nay, perhaps doubters may well stand excused, if a miracle to all and each be not vouchsafed to quiet the irrepressible reclamations of natural feeling against what too surely seems superstition, fraud, and tyranny. No such supernatural interference is, however, necessary; the incubus, which craft had conjured up for the oppression of the Christian world, was taken off at the Reformation; and they are timid dreamers indeed, who, after being so relieved, will allow it to cumber them again,

THERE are several kinds of literary works connected with music. Of one kind, are those which treat of the doctrine of musical sounds, as a branch of physical science; and of another, are those which treat of music as one of the arts. These two subjects are totally unconnected with each other. The theory of acoustics is of no value to the musician; nor will the most consummate skill in music be of any use to the student of acoustics. This circumstance has been too little attended to; and treatises on the art of music have frequently been encumbered with a mass of mathematical and physical dissertation, calculated merely to perplex the student, and divert his attention from the proper objects of study. We meet, accordingly, with many individuals, who, in consequence of studies of this sort, think themselves musicians; and, because they have investigated the mathematical doctrines of vibrations and ratios, talk learnedly of musical compositions, though they neither possess a spark of the feeling necessary to appreciate them, nor know a single rule employed in their production. We have not yet heard of any body assuming the character of a connoisseur in painting, in consequence of being acquainted with optics.

There is another kind of literature connected with music, which consists of dissertations on the music of the ancients. Upon the strength of such studies, many persons, too, think themselves musicians, while they are

only antiquaries. After reading volumes upon volumes on this subject, all we learn is, that we know nothing of the matter. We acquire, however, a great number of hard and highsounding words, which are too valuable to be thrown away; and, therefore, to turn our learning to account, we assume the character of musical conoscenti and critics; though, for any thing our studies may have taught us, we may as well pretend to be connoisseurs in the music of the spheres.

The study of acoustics is valuable, as a branch of natural philosophy; and the study of ancient music may throw light on the researches of the antiquary; and these studies are, undoubtedly, worthy of the man of science, the man of letters, and the gentleman who bestows his leisure on intellectual pursuits. But no truly great musician ever gave them any share of his attention. There have been men, indeed, like Dr Pepusch, who, with their heads stuffed full of mathematical and antiquarian lore, professed also to be musical artists. But the total want of fancy and feeling, and of every thing that belongs to the poetry of music,-the plodding mechanical disposition which led to the nature of their studies,-have always been found to disqualify them from the production of any beautiful work of art,-and the music of Pepusch (the representative of a class,) is as arid as his studies. Who ever heard of the mathematical or antiquarian learning of Handel, Haydn, Mozart,

or Beethoven? These "mighty magicians," it is well known, never troubled themselves about the divisions of the monochord, or the genera of the Greeks. They required no calculation of ratios, to tell them how an interval should be tuned, nor dreamed of looking for musical ideas among the jargon which some learned enquirers have rescued from oblivion, in the shape of hymns to Apollo, &c. To such minds, this solemn trifling would be a drudgery not to be borne.

In speaking of musical literature, then, it is proper to exclude all those works, which entirely, or chiefly, treat of acoustics, or musical antiquities. Such works, indeed, are sometimes written by persons who have musical knowledge and feeling, and contain occasional indications of these qualities. Where this occurs, how ever, the passage is a mere digression, superfluous in a strictly scientific point of view, but agreeable to the musical student who strays into these regions, to whom it is as delightful as the green spot and cool fountain to the weary pilgrim of the desart. The musical lucubrations of the late celebrated Professor Robison, in the Encyclopædia Britannica, are as useless to the musician, as valuable to the natural philosopher, and yet they are worth the perusal even of the musician, were it only for the fine touches of sensibility and taste which they contain. In the same manner, it is difficult to imagine any thing more useless to a musician, than the disquisitions which occupy almost the whole of the first volume of Burney's History of Music; and yet that very agreeable writer has contrived to scatter flowers over the path of musical antiquities, which beguile the weariness of the journey, and make us sometimes forget its bootlessness. None of these Howers, however, are indigenous to so barren a soil; they are all exotics, and brought from the very distant regions of fancy and feeling.

It is very common to speak of the science, and of the theory of music; but this language we cannot help thinking incorrect. Music, we conceive, is not a science, nor has it a theory. It is an art,-like poetry or painting, in the exercise of which, we are directed by a number of tech

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nical rules, which have no resemblance to the deductions from the theory of a science. It has, however, been the fashion for writers on music, to lay down a Theory of Harmony," and then to deduce from it the practice of Composition." Such was the method of Rameau, whose system, as expounded and arranged by D'Alembert, acquired almost universal authority throughout Europe. In the celebrated Treatise of D'Alembert, an attempt is made to deduce all the laws of harmony from one or two principles of acoustics; and this is done with such an air of simplicity and apparent demonstration, that the work is captivating to the young student of music, who thinks he has found an unerring clue through all the labyrinths of counterpoint. In this respect he is soon undeceived: but even after he throws aside D'Alembert, he finds it difficult to break the fetters in which he has been bound. He retains, in spite of himself, the habit of referring every thing to the system to which he has been accustomed; and as, in the modern music especially, he meets every instant with combinations, which are irreconcileable to that system, he feels as if music were altogether capricious and lawless. To pursue his studies successfully, he must forget D'Alembert; and this (we speak from experience) is no easy task. Though the authority of this famous system is now at an end on the continent, and even in the country which gave it birth, yet our English treatises on composition still bear too many traces of its influences.

Where music is judiciously taught, all attempts at scientific investigations are abandoned. It is taught, like grammar and rhetoric, by stating and exemplifying a series of rules, which are merely general expressions of the practice of the greatest masters. For the rules of musical grammar, no reason can be given, but that an observance of them has been found necessary, by experience, in order to please the ear; and for some of them, probably, all that can be said is, that such is the general practice of composers. The laws of harmony are far from being so fixed as those of the Medes and Persians; and the code of to-day differs enormously from that of a century ago. The works of

Beethoven and Weber contain sounds that would have made every hair of Handel's wig stand upright with horror, and probably would have been the death of the gentle and sensitive Corelli. The harmony of Mozart is now felt, and universally admitted, to be exquisitely pure and delicate; and yet, when his Quartetts first appeared, a copy, sent by the publisher to Italy, was returned on his hands, as being full of mistakes of the engraver! The rules of musical rhetoric, however, are of a higher class. They are founded on the unchangeable principles of human nature, and are, therefore, permanent and universal in their application. If music is considered in reference to the inventive power, the imagination, judgment, and profundity displayed in its composition,-in regard to its power of awakening the fancy and touching the heart,-to the truth of its dramatic expression,-to the purity of its style, and the symmetry of its structure, a great variety of general considerations present themselves, from which canons of criticism may be deduced, according to which the merit of musical productions may be estimated, in every age and country, whatever differences there may be in the rules of musical grammar, and in the conventional forms of musical language. This is what we consider

to be musical literature.

Excluding, therefore, works on what is improperly called Musical Science, on Musical Antiquities, and Musical Grammar, it will be found that the extent of musical literature is as yet very narrow. As music, however, is every day acquiring additional importance in England, and the refined and elegant enjoyments which it affords are superseding the grosser pastimes of our ancestors, the principles of the art become a valuable object of enquiry; as it is only by a knowledge of them being generally diffused that the influence of bad taste, fashion, and caprice, can be counteracted. We propose, in this article, to mention a few of the works in musical literature, which are most accessible in this country.

Musical criticism has been long, and, on the whole, successfully cultivated in France. The admirable and eloquent writings of Rousseau compelled his countrymen to open

their eyes to the excellence of the Italian music, in spite of the powerful party that supported the French school, and the yet more powerful influence of national prejudice and vanity. Nothing, however, could withstand Rousseau's glowing eulogies on one hand, and his withering invectives on the other; and the publication of the "Lettre sur la Musique Française" may be taken as the era of a great reformation in the French school. Since that time, a splendid succession of Italian and German composers have exerted their talents in writing for the French opera; and the consequence is, (notwithstanding the ignorant sneers of some of our countrymen,) that the present French school of music is excellent. The works of Boieldieu, Berton, and Auber, are not only performed at Berlin and Vienna, but please the fastidious critics of Milan and Naples. Would we could say as much of the works of our English composers!

Rousseau's " Dictionnaire de Musique" is, on the whole, a valuable work, and ought to be known to every musician. His articles on musical science, and the principles of harmony, are, for the reasons already mentioned, worse than useless; but his discussions on many subjects of taste and criticism are admirable.

One of the most remarkable works which have appeared in France, is Gretry's "Essais sur la Musique." The first volume of this work was published in 1789; and was afterwards republished, with two additional volumes, in 1797. It is little known in England. The author, though not a Frenchman (being a native of Liege) became the most popular of the French dramatic composers,—so much so that many of his airs have become completely national. His popularity was well deserved, for his airs are delightfully sweet and graceful, and remarkable for truth of dramatic expression. His accompaniments are too thin and slight for the present taste; but his music altogether is of a kind which will long preserve its attraction. His book is a singular, and, in many respects, an excellent production. It contains an amusing auto-biography, an account of his studies and of his different works, and his reflections on the principles of musical composition

(especially dramatic) derived from his own great experience. There is a good deal of vanity and prolixity in the book; and the author, from the desire of being profound and philosophical, à la Française, is frequent ly too abstract to be intelligible: but, with all this, the work is full of original and striking views, and worthy of the serious attention of every dramatic composer. Two or three short extracts from it, we think, will be found interesting.

While a youth at Rome, pursuing his studies, and totally immersed in writing fugues and scholastic exercises, the author, who had been dying to see Piccini, is at last carried by a friend to visit him :

'Piccini fit peu d'attention à moi; et c'est, à dire vrai, ce que je méritais. Je n'avais heureusement pas besoin d'émulation; mais que le moindre encouragement de sa part m'eût fait de plaisir! Je contemplais ses traits avec un sentiment de respect qui aurait dû le flatter, si ma timidité naturelle avait pu lui laisser voir ce qui se passait au fond de mon cœur. Q'une âme sensible est à plaindre elle fait faire toujours gauchement ce qu'on desire le plus; si vous ne lui donnez un lendemain vous ne la connaîtrez jamais. O grands hommes! ô hommes en réputation accueillez, encouragez les jeunes gens qui cherchent à s'approcher de vous; un mot de votre bouche peut faire éclore dix ans plutôt un grand talent. Dites-leur que vous n'êtes que des hommes, à peine le croient-ils; dites-leur que vous avez erré longtems avant de decouvrir les secrets de votre art, et l'art de vous servir de vos idées; mais qu'en fin il vient un instant où le chaos se debrouille, et où l'on est tout étonné de se trouver homme. Piccini se remit ou travail qu'il avait quitté pour un instant pour nous recevoir. J'osai lui demander ce qu'il composait; il me repondit: Un oratorio. Nous demeurâmes une heure auprès de lui. Mon ami me fit signe, et nous partîmes sans être aperçus. Je rentrai sur-le-champ dans mon collège; et, après avoir fermé ma porte, je voulus faire tout ce que j'avais vu chez Piccini. La petite table à côté du clavecin, un cahier de papier rayé, un oratorio imprimé, lire les paroles, porter les mains sur le

clavier, tirer des grandes barres de partition, écrire de suite sans rature, passer lestement d'une partie à l'au tre; tout cela me paraissait charmant, et mon délire dura deux ou trois heures; jamais ne n'avais été plus heureux; je me croyais Piccini. Cependant mon air etait fait; je le mis sur le clavecin et l'executai-O douleur! Il etait détestable; je me mis à pleurer à chaudes larmes, et le lendemain je repris en soupirant mon cahier de fugues."

What a fine and natural picture of youthful enthusiasm! There is great truth and importance in the following remark on the value of studying the strict style of composition-a study too much neglected in England and, indeed, everywhere else, at present.

"Je suis persuadé qu'on ne peut être simple, expressif, et sur tout correct, sans avoir épuisé les difficultés du contrepoint. C'est au milieu d'un magazin qu'on peut se choisir un cabinet. L'homme qui sait, se reconnait aisément; on entend dans ses compositions les plus legères, quelques notes de basse que l'on sent ne pouvoir appartenir à l'harmoniste superficiel.'

How true this is! and yet it is sufficient to turn over the mass of musical productions which issue from the press in a single month-the songs, pieces for the piano-forte, &c.—to be convinced how little it is attended to.

In his popular Opera of Lucile, there is a charming piece-" Où peut on être mieux qu'au sein de sa famille?"-of which the air is universally popular in France. Concerning this air, the author gives two anecdotes, the one very pretty, though quite French, and the other very ludicrous. They are both contained in the following passage:

"Ce morceau de musique a servi, depuis qu'il est connu, pour consacrer les fêtes de famille. Je me trouvais moi-meme chez un homme qui s'était opposé infructueusement au mariage de son frère; la jeune épouse, belle comme Venus, se présente chez le frère de son mari; elle y est reçu très poliment, c'est à dire, froide. ment; cependant, comme j'aperçus que les caresses de la dame jettaient du trouble dans le cœur de son beaufrère, je les engageai à s'approcher du piano; je chantai le quatuor avec