custom is of Dutch origin; and under proper restrictions, must have a salutary influence upon the social intercourse of families. It is the jubilee of friendship, when old feuds are settled, past animosities forgotten, and the rock rolled away from the well of sympathy.

One half the world are abroad, making calls; and the other half are at home, receiving them. I think the ladies can very well afford to keep within doors, since it is only for one day; and especially, as it is better to receive honor at home, than to go abroad in quest of it. We willingly yield the streets to the "lords of creation," when they come to pay their homage in our parlors; and cheerfully wait on them there, since it is only as queens wait on their courtiers.

See that company of young men hurrying past. Whither go ye, with such winged footsteps? Touched by the tears of the widow, and the cries of the orphan, are ye hastening to gladden the desolate hearthstone, and heal the broken heart? Moved with pity for the ignorant and superstitious, whose habitations have been visited by no "day spring from on high," are ye speeding to pour upon them the beams of Divine Truth, and conduct their darkened souls to a glorious immortality? No! Woman is the magnet that draws you on! Beauty is the charm that binds your hearts! O Woman! O Beauty! knew ye your power, and had ye the virtue to use it right, what blessings might bloom

around you! what flowers and fruits of Eden deck the moral desert! Verily, it is yours, far more than ye have hitherto realized, to correct the social disorders of the world, and relieve the manifold woes of humanity. And will ye not raise a barrier to the tide of vice and profligacy which is sweeping away your own dearest joys and fairest hopes, and say to the desolating flood, "Here shall thy proud waves be stayed!" Alas! the wine cup sparkles today on at least one half the thousand tables spread and adorned by your hands in this city, and before nightfall ye will have tempted to inebriation many a gallant worshiper at your shrine!

XII. ORATORIO OF DAVID.

(1846.)

THIS magnificent piece of music is the production of Chevalier Segismund Neukomm. It is said to be the most dramatic of oratorios, and second only in sublimity to Handel's Messiah. It is truly a festival of sweet sounds, a banquet for the ear and heart; combining all that is interesting in the history of the Psalmist, with all that is tender or terrible in recitative and song.

The opening scene is laid in a desert near Bethlehem. The piece is appropriately commenced with a symphony peculiarly wild and plaintive. Then

appears the youthful shepherd, in the person of Mr. Frazer. In a simple recitative, he informs his comrades that his father calls him to visit his brethren in the camp, and invites them to join him in a parting act of worship. This is followed by the response of the shepherds, in a choral hymn, which for wild majesty and power was never surpassed. Composed of sixteen parts, it commences with one; and the rest fall in successively, and almost imperceptibly, till the song becomes a perfect tempest of harmony, an earthquake set to music.

Immediately after the hymn, David bids adieu to his friends and flocks, in a tender and melting solo; and concludes with these inspiring words, in sounds not less inspiring:

"O for the rescue of my father's land!

Steeled be my heart, and nerved my youthful hand! 'Tis done! no fears, no dangers, shall appal!

I feel the impulse, and obey the call!"

Here the performer was exceedingly happy, and gave way to his strong artistic impulses with a surprising abandonment and power. His soul seemed an ocean of melody; and he had only to open his lips, and let the rivers flow.

This piece

It exhibited

Then the sister of David, in a brief recitative, laments her brother's departure; and in a most touching air, entreats him to return. seemed as difficult as it was beautiful. to fine advantage the rich compass and versatility of Miss Windmuller's exquisite voice and was received with most enthusiastic applause. It is

impossible to give the reader any adequate idea of the pathos and power of the passage:

"Till thou shalt return,

E'en the stream of the valley thy absence shall mourn!"

Now the scene shifts to the tented field. The following chorus of the Israelites comes rattling down upon the startled audience like an Alpine avalanche:

"Behold the giant swelling in his pride!
His trumpet sounds afar!

His towering crest how vast! his stride,
The terror of the war!

Behold his brawny spear,

That armies cleaves asunder!
Hark! how his voice upon the ear
Breaks forth in distant thunder!"

This passage seems surcharged with the very volcanic energy of sound, admirably bodying forth the panic and dismay of Israel. Then follows the challenge and acceptance. The loud vaunting of the Giant, and the meek confidence of the stripling, are presented in lively and amusing contrast, Goliath exclaims:

"Come unto me, and cease thy war of words!"

David replies:

"I come to thee; the battle is the Lord's!"

and these words are repeated with increasing and ever varying emphasis, till the feelings of the audience are wrought up to the highest pitch of

solicitude for the safety of the shepherd boy, whose voice is drowned amid the percussive thunders of the Philistine. The parties are advancing to the combat. Hark! that startling peal upon the drum! The deep fortissimo comes booming from afar:

"He falls! the monster falls!"

Then burst the shouts of Israel, like the explosion of worlds. The voice of victor and vanquished blend in one vast roar of harmony. The gongs and trumpets thrill you with electric power. For a moment the sounds of strife grow faint and indistinct; then swell upon you again, like the fitful blasts of the tornado; and thus the chorus rolls on in successive surges of majestic concord, till it dies away in the distance to a scarcely audible echo.

We are next transported to the palace of Saul. The king's daughter meets us with a congratulatory recitative and air. The victorious army comes thundering into Gibeah, with a triumphal march and grand chorus. This chorus is perhaps the most majestic in the oratorio. It is introduced by a beautiful symphony, faint and melodious in its incipient strains as the voice of a rural evening, but gradually swelling to the "sound of many waters." Then the semi-chorus of tenor voices takes up the note of triumph, which is softly echoed by the treble in an air of peculiar sweetness:

"Daughters of Israel!

Lo, the hosts advance!
Strike the bright cymbal
Lead forth the dance!"