Part 13

True, and therefore why should I pray? Of what avail these prayers with 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.