the _unchangeable_ God? Can aught that we do, or fail to do, disturb the
everlasting tranquillity of our Creator--change his purpose--or in any
way move to pleasure or displeasure the Lord God of Heaven and Earth?
With him before whom all things are alike, with whom there is neither
great nor small--what he hath determined to do, that will he not do?
whether we importune him or not with prayer? Go to, my poor brother! go
to! will not the Judge of all the Earth do right? and if he will
not--how are we to help ourselves?
Unhappy man! Though he _were_ unchangeable; and though supplications
were of no avail, why should the children of men, the creatures of his
bounty withhold their _thanksgiving_?
That would I never withhold, for that I could offer up any where--at all
times and under all circumstances, without dishonoring him, our CREATOR
and our Father, or his image, and without contradicting our ancient
faith. But why wrestle in prayer with him, for that which, if it be
proper for us, we shall be sure to have, as we have the dew and the
sunshine, the seed-time and the harvest.--The very hairs of our head,
are they not numbered? Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and
not one of them is forgotten before God!
Yea my brother! But what saith the same scripture? Ye are of more value
than many sparrows.
True--true--I had forgotten a part of my lesson.
Believest thou, O my brother, _canst_ thou believe then, that in His
eyes, all the cherubim and seraphim are equal and alike? that He is, of
a truth, no respecter of persons among the Hierarchy of heaven?
But wherefore pray to Him that knoweth all our wants, before they are
uttered or felt? to Him that feedeth the young raven--laying his hand
reverentially upon the Great Book before him, and lifting his forehead
to the sky, as if he could see through it.
_Wherefore?_ Because we have been urged to pray--entreated to
pray--commanded to pray. Because every thing desirable hath been
promised to prayer.
Not in the Hebrew scriptures, however it may be with the Greek. To
thanksgiving and submission, there may be vouchsafed a continual to
favor; but to importunity, as urged upon you in your scripture, my poor
brother, _nothing_.
Lo! the headsman touches the foot of the scaffold! Wilt thou not pray
with me, oh Adonijah! my brother and my prince!
No! my brother that _was_--no! The Lion of Judah hath not yet learned to
lick the uplifted hand of mortal man. Get thee behind me Zorobabel, _my
brother_! Go thy way, and leave me to my trust in the God of our
fathers. Why should I pray with thee--with thee! an apostate from the
sepulchre of kings and prophets--I that never have prayed but with the
princes, and the Judges and the High-Priest of our people? Get thee
gone, my brother! It is not for such as I to tempt the Lord of Hosts, or
to persuade the Ancient of Days. Do not thou tempt me.
Stay, brother--stay! Did not Jacob wrestle in prayer with the angel of
the Lord, all the night long?
With the angel of the Lord?--yea--But never with the Lord himself, as
thou wouldst have me. And saying this, he gathered up his robe and shook
it, and turned away from his brother sorrowing.
Man! thou art beside thyself--much learning hath made thee mad--cried
his brother, reaching forth his arms to Adonijah. The whole Hebrew
scriptures are against thee--what are they all but a Book of prayer and
supplication? Prophets and Bards and Kings and Judges, yea, even the
High Priesthood, are against thee! Why shouldst thou pray, thou
unconquerable Hebrew?--why!--that thy proud heart may be made
human--that thy understanding may be enlightened--that thou mayst be
made to know and believe that there is another and a better Scripture.
Pray to thy Father, which is in Heaven, as thou wouldst that thy
children should pray to thee, even for that which thou hast already
determined to grant them--oh, pray to Him! that He may see the
disposition of thy heart, as thou wouldst see theirs. What though thou
art mindful of their wants, and well acquainted with their hearts and
purposes, and always ready to gratify them, is it not a condition with
thee--even with _thee_, Adonijah, that they should acknowledge their
dependence upon thee, and their utter helplessness of themselves? And
why should it not be so with our Heavenly Father? with Him whose angels
are about thee and above thee, a perpetual atmosphere of warmth and
light. Ha! the multitude are breaking up!--they are coming this way! I
hear the tramp of horsemen--a moment more and we are apart forever. A
flash!--The Philistines are upon thee, O my brother!
That brother looked up and smiled.
Wilt thou not pray with me?
No--once for all--no! Never with a converted Jew--never with a
christian!--never with thee, thou but half a christian!
Farewell then!--farewell forever.
Another flash! attended with a loud burst of thunder among the hills.
Nay, let us part in peace, my brother, although I cannot pray with thee,
I can for thee! The God of our Fathers! of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob,
have thee in his holy keeping!
The stranger threw up his arms in a transport of joy. The unconverted,
the _unconvertable_ Jew had prayed for him with the temper of a
christian; and straightway he fell upon his knees and called upon the
God of the Hebrews, in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, to spare
the Jew and change his heart.
The huge gate swung open. The drawbridge fell--a fierce angry light
broke forth suddenly from underneath the scaffold--a black banner
floated all at once from the battlements over the passage-way--a troop
of horsemen, with flashing spears and iron helmets, wheeled slowly into
the court-yard, and drew up in dead silence along the outer barrier. The
headsman appeared. A signal was made from a far window, and lo! the
coronet and the robe, with all the glittering insignia of departed power
and extinguished glory, were torn away, and trampled under foot by the
hoofs of the multitude. A white smoke rolled forth from below, and when
it cleared away, the Jew appeared standing bareheaded between two
gigantic mutes, one of whom bore a naked cimetar, while the other stood
watching his countenance. It continued unaltered--unalterable--nor would
he vouchsafe the slightest token of submission or terror, though the
flames roared, and the white smoke rolled thitherward like the white
sea-fog before a coming storm; but haughtily, steadfastly, and with a
majestic mildness which awed the very soldiery more than all the pomp
they were accustomed to, he pointed to the multitude, lowering about him
with a tempestuous blackness--to the pyre with its covering of
blood-red cloth dripping with recent moisture--to the flames roaring far
below among the dry faggots, and signified a wish to proceed.
Once more shouted a voice from the barrier--My brother! oh my brother!
wilt thou not be prevailed upon, if not for thine own sake, for the sake
of thy beloved wife and thy youngest born--about to perish with
thee--even with thee, my brother, in their marvellous beauty and most
abundant strength.
Away!--and let me die in peace!
Another step thou unconquerable man! But another step--thou apostate
Jew!--and thou art in the world of spirits! Wilt thou not say? _canst_
thou not, with lowliness and fervor, Our Father which art in Heaven! thy
will and not mine be done!
Yea, brother--if that will comfort thee in thy desolation. Yea! Yea!
with all the hoarded and concentrated fervor of a long life accustomed
to no other language, even while I took upon me the outer garb of a
christian--Yea!--and saying this, he fell upon his knees, and cried out
with a loud voice, while a triumphant brightness overspread his uplifted
countenance with a visible exaltation, Our Father and our Judge! I do
not pray to thee as the God of the christians did, that this cup may be
spared to me; for I have put my whole hope and trust in thee, and am
satisfied with whatsoever I may receive at thy hands! But I would bless
thee, I would praise thee, I would magnify thy great name, oh God of my
Fathers, for all that I have enjoyed or suffered, for all that I have
had or wanted in this life; yea, for all the afflictions and sorrows and
terrors that have beset my path, and that of my beloved wife and my
dear children--children of the tribe of Judah and of the house of
Jacob!--Yea, for the overthrow of all my proud hopes and prouder wishes,
when I forsook thee and almost abjured the faith of my Fathers for
dominion sake. Forgive my apostate brother, I beseech thee, O Lord! as
thou hast forgiven me: and bless the heritage of thy people, and
encourage them as the followers of the new faith are encouraged by their
Jesus of Nazareth, to forgive their enemies, even though their enemies
take the shape of a beloved friend or brother--to betray them--giving up
their birth-right, like Esau for a mess of pottage.
A great commotion appeared on the house-tops, extending itself slowly
far and wide.
Nevertheless, continued the Jew--nevertheless! oh Father and Judge, God
of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob! thy will and not mine be done!
The multitude began to surge this way and that, with exceeding violence.
A cry of indignation arose from every side. A tumult followed--a general
rush--the house-tops were suddenly deserted--the sea shore--and some
began shouting, Away with him! away with him! and others, Let the
blaspheming Jew perish without hope! and others, Crucify him! crucify
him!
But in the midst of the uproar, one clear solitary cry was heard afar
off, repeating a prayer to the God of the Hebrews--another cloud of
white smoke rolled over the battlements--the flames appeared half way up
the sky--a trumpet sounded underneath the very scaffold--the ancient
war-cry of the Jews, _To your tents, O Israel!_ rung far and wide along
the outer barrier--up sprang a multitude of small white banners, like
affrighted birds, from the midst of the people--and the next moment,
before they had recovered from their unspeakable consternation, the
heavy horsemen charged upon them in a body, the great ship swung round
with all her voices thundering together, and swept their pathway as with
a whirlwind of fire, while they hurried hither and thither, crying To
arms! to arms! The Jews! the Jews! and pointing toward the bridge, only
to find the bridge itself destroyed and the opposite shore in possession
of that other converted Jew--the stranger!--all in glittering steel
arrayed, and carrying a banner on which the Lion of Judah was ramping in
a field of carnage!
* * * * *
And when the Jew Adonijah, now more a Jew than ever, and more fully
satisfied than ever, with the sublime, and awful, and unchangeable faith
of his old Hebrew Fathers, came fully to himself, and the tumult was all
over, he found three out of his four children of the house of Jacob,
standing near him in their robes of state--another, and a stranger,
harnessed for the war, his black eyes yet gleaming with the
half-extinguished fire of battle, standing at the door of the chamber.
And why wouldst thou not pray for us, father? said one of the two that
were standing by the bed-side.
Because ye were sick unto death; and I held it sinful to ask for that
which had been refused to King David himself--I, that had forsaken the
Lord God of my fathers--How could I hope that he would not forsake me!
But the christian prayed for us, Father, and the prayers of the
christian were heard!
With what face could they, _being christians_, pray for the children of
men that put their Savior to death? How could they, _being christians_,
forget their scripture, which saith--_suffer little children to come
unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of heaven!_
And as he spoke, the great doors were thrown open, and the armed man
flung down his helmet, and walked forward with a solemn and haughty step
leading a beautiful woman captive, and a young child.
A shriek!--a tumult!--and straightway all were kneeling together! And
not one of that family of Jacob--that remnant of the tribe of Judah--not
one was missing. They were determined to live and die in their old
august unchangeable faith, even as all their progenitors had lived and
died--enduring all things--suffering all things--trials and sorrows and
temptations--age after age--and never betraying their faith, never!
But the unconquerable Jew acknowledged to himself, and to his brother,
even there, as they fell upon his neck and wept, the _possibility_ of
prayer being heard, the _possibility_ that the unchangeable God might be
reached by supplication--and the _possibility_ that even a philosopher
and a Jew might be mistaken.
But----
A WAR-SONG OF THE REVOLUTION.
By John Neal.
Men of the North! look up!
There's a tumult in your sky;
A troubled glory surging out;
Great shadows hurrying by:
Your strength--Where is it now?
Your quivers--Are they spent?
Your arrows in the rust of death,
Your fathers' bows unbent?
Men of the North! Awake!
Ye're called to from the Deep;
Trumpets in every breeze--
Yet there ye lie asleep:
A stir in every tree;
A shout from every wave;
A challenging on every side;
A moan from every grave:
A battle in the sky;
Ships thundering through the air--
Jehovah on the march--
Men of the North, to prayer!
Now, now--in all your strength;
There's that before your way,
Above, about you, and below,
Like armies in array:
Lift up your eyes, and see
The changes overhead;
Now hold your breath! and hear
The mustering of the dead.
See how the midnight air
With bright commotion burns,
Thronging with giant shape,
Banner and spear by turns--
The sea-fog driving in,
Solemnly and swift;
The Moon afraid--stars dropping out--
The very skies adrift:
The Everlasting GOD:
Our Father--Lord of Love--
With cherubim and seraphim
All gathering above--
Their stormy plumage lighted up
As forth to war they go;
The shadow of the Universe,
Upon our haughty foe!
MUSINGS ON MUSIC.
By James F. Otis.
And while I was musing, the fire burned.--_Holy Writ._
THE ORIGIN OF MUSIC.
Music is the wondrous breathing of God's spirit in our souls. As we view
the "floor of heaven, thickly inlaid with patines of pure gold," we feel
that
There's not the smallest orb which we behold,
But, in its motion, like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young eyed cherubim.
We feel it in the constitution of the air, which causes vibration--in
the formation of man, possessed of the wonderful faculties enabling him
to sing, to distinguish musical sounds, and to feel within his whole
frame the effects of music. Man, indeed, is himself a wonderful musical
instrument, made by the hand of God. He hears all nature hymning
adoration and praises to its Maker--he feels the constant vibration of
universal harmony around him--he is conscious that the emotions of
gratitude he feels toward the Creator should be expressed, and that in
the highest strains which the human mind can conceive, and the human
voice can reach. Thus he calls in to his aid all those auxiliaries which
nature and art afford, to supply him with associations tending to
elevate the standard of his grateful expressions. Music is a sacred, a
religious, a _holy_ thing. Applied to common purposes, it is pleasing
and worthy of cultivation--but still it has a higher character when
used for its original and more worthy purpose. The effect it produces in
the former instance is to raise our _mirth_:--when used in its higher
character, its effect is to produce _rapture_. It soothes when thus
employed, as of old it did when David banished the evil spirit from the
soul of Saul by the vibrations of his sweet-toned harp; it improves--as
all good influences and pure associations ever must, when permitted
their due action upon the mind; and it elevates the spirit toward the
eternal source whence all its harmony flows. As it peals upon the ear,
and sinks inly upon the heart of him whose mind is bent upon the
thoughts of holy things--upon his creation, his present blessings and
future hopes, he seems to hear
That undisturbed song of pure content,
Aye sung around the sapphire-colored throne,
To him that sits thereon--
Where the bright seraphim, in burning row,
Their loud, uplifted angel trumpets blow;
And the cherubic hosts, in thousand choirs,
Touch their celestial harps of golden wires.
* * * * *
HANDEL AND HAYDN. THE MESSIAH AND THE CREATION, A PARABLE.
Handel, with all his comparative simplicity, is my favorite. I cannot
but look up to him with astonishment and veneration; his "Messiah," I
behold as the purest specimen of sublimity ever displayed in the arts:
and I can conceive of nothing in poetry with any pretension to be
considered its parallel, but the "Paradise Lost" of Milton. The
"Hallelujah Chorus" may be esteemed the loftiest work of the
imagination. The leading conception is entirely inimitable. The full
chorus of other masters is often bold and elevated; but it is only
Handel who has the sublime of devotion. Haydn is triumphant and
inspiring; but the effect of his chorus is only that of martial music.
In listening to Haydn, you seem to hear the shouts of conquerors,
proudly entering a vanquished city: in listening to Handel, the shouts
seem to break from the clouds; from the triumphant host admitted to the
presence of God; and the object of praise gives a character of holiness
and purity to the harmony. With Haydn, we exult, we reason not why. With
Handel, we can never for a moment forget that we are praising God. The
rapid movements and quick transitions of Haydn draw the fullest
admiration to the orchestra, and the subject is forgotten. The lighter
passages in Handel are only the varied note of praise, expanding only in
proportion to the inspiration which the object kindles. In one
word,--every thing in Haydn is seen to be accomplished; and every
delineation, if I may thus employ the word, is felt to be a resemblance.
But in Handel, let what will be described or exhibited,--a battle,--a
victory,--the trembling of the earth,--the tottering of a wall,--the
moan of sympathy,--the insults and crucifixion of a Savior,--the awful
stillness of death,--or, on the other hand, the triumph of the
resurrection,--the birth of the Prince of Peace,--or hosannas to the
King of Kings, and Lord of Lords,--every thing seems to be done at the
command of God himself.
But I conceive it is not difficult to reconcile an admiration of both
these great masters, in as much as their music presents such a variety
only as every art admits. Claude Loraine was no rival of Raphael--yet
we stand with one before a landscape, and with the other at the foot of
the cross, with like, if not equal astonishment and admiration. The
recitatives of Haydn are, with scarcely a single exception, less bold,
but better finished,--less abrupt, and better calculated for the scope
of the voice, than those of Handel; and are supported by a harmony more
graceful, though not more striking and natural. Haydn, at all times,
threw the fascination of melody over his richest modulations, and the
whole effect of his harmony resulted from conspiring airs, each of which
was melodious by itself. While, on the other hand, the separate parts in
Handel were like single pillars from a temple, or single stones from a
pyramid. If, in Handel, appear the beauty of consistency,--in Haydn we
admire the consistency of beauty. If Handel's choruses and harmony might
be compared, both in their formation and beauty, to mountains of ice,
illuminated by the sun,--Haydn's harmony would seem to resemble the most
splendid crystalizations--under the same illumination, in which one form
of beauty has gradually encircled another, until the shape and beauty of
the minutest part has become imparted to the larger proportions, and
more commanding figure of the whole mass. It is impossible indeed, to
find any thing in music,--placing his choruses out of view,--which can
rival the sublime recitative of Handel,--"For behold darkness shall
cover the earth,--but the Lord shall arise!"--Yet the opening of Haydn's
"Creation," may deserve to be ranked second only to this, and as
surpassing every other attempt of its author, in sublimity, and deep,
solemn grandeur. The fall of the angels, in the first part of the same
noble oratorio, is a wonderful effort, and presents the most remarkable
instance in all Haydn's compositions, of the characteristic excellence
which has just been ascribed to him, namely, his uniform regard to his
melody, even where he designed to produce the boldest effect in his
harmony. It is the most graphic musical description ever attempted; and
it must have been produced in one of those moments of lofty enthusiasm
in which a conception of surpassing grandeur flashes upon the mind, is
grasped and embodied in an instant, and a man pauses in exultation and
astonishment at what he has himself accomplished. This passage,
however,--if it had no other excellence,--could never be forgotten, as
it gives the most striking effect to the inimitable contrast which
succeeds,--where the first impression of the beauty of the world at the
moment of the creation is described with such tenderness and grace, that
the most vulgar minds, as well as those whose taste has been in some
degree refined, have felt every note, as it came from the forms of
living things, exulting in their existence--or as if the author had
borrowed the lyre of the morning stars, that sang the glories of the
"new created world."--The celebrated chorus, "The Heavens are telling
the glory of God," is unquestionably the boldest conception of Haydn.
Its harmony has the most astonishing richness and variety, and the
leading air is almost unexceptionably beautiful. Yet it may be called a
chorus in theory only; for it requires the fullest choir of the finest
voices and most refined tastes,--and no community of any country can
furnish a hundred and fifty singers, capable of performing it, even with
a tolerable degree of spirit, judgment and correctness. By this remark
I mean merely, that the original conception of the author, and that with
which every one who feels its true beauty and force is filled, upon
studying, or hearing it,--can never be fully realized and carried out,
and filled up, by the finest combination of human powers.