Our object is not a musical critique, nor indeed a criticism of any kind at all, but simply an analysis and exposition of the thoughts pervading the whole composition. We shall not, of course, attempt to vindicate such performances from the objections advanced by some serious persons, but take for granted their accordance with ancient christian custom,' and their uses when properly conducted. The first part of the "Elijah" opens in a somewhat remarkable manner by a prophetic recitative, in which occurs the prediction of the three years' famine by the prophet. The solemn brevity of the announcement came with a peculiar emphasis to the assembled thousands, who had so recently joined in a fast and supplication against a threatened famine in the year 1847. All seemned to connect the eventful epoch in the land of Israel, more than two thousand five hundred years ago, with something in the condition of Europe now No prediction from the mouth of a prophet has foretold calamity for us; but the wisest of England's sons were very recently engaged in reading the signs of the past and coming harvest with many forebodings. To such the chorus,-"The harvest now is over, the summer days are gone," came as a remembrancer of the emotions with which sage heads lately looked on Ireland and other parts of the British isles. These thoughts were doubtless also suggested to the Queen and Prince by the mournful opening of the Oratorio, and must have reminded them of the late national fast, in which monarch, nobles, burghers, and peasants had joined. of a strange catastrophe to rouse the slumbering elements of goodness in the subjects of Ahab. The night of suffering is only beginning; and these emotions are expressed in the chorus-"Yet doth the Lord see i not." The nice perception of that mingled good and evil which so constantly complicates the workings of society, has been exhibited by Mendelssohn in the union of gloomy anticipations with hopes of distant good, with which this chorus closes in the words,-" His mercies on thousands fall." Thus great painters ever portray men; making them, not all demon, nor all angel, but a strange admixture € the two, so that the terrible and the beautiful are often in immediate contact; as in a thunder-storm the lightnin: flashes over soft and peaceful valleys, whence the pr fumes of a thousand wild flowers rise. The oratorio leads the audience first to view Elijah, in his solid by the brook Cherith, where, within sight of troub Jerusalem, he gazed in deep thoughtfulness on slow ripple of the waters as they descended to the Jordan. But soon the river sinks in its channel, and the brook becomes a parched-up hollow. The prope then departs to Zarephath; where, far from the me polis, he may meditate on the glories of the past, a transmit to an unknown widow of Asher's tribe, w drous gifts from God. From the silent Jordan to the melancholy sounding sea the graves are opened; but in one lone house of Zarephath the powers of the invite world are revealed in miracles, like those of olden days Such startling contrasts between the vastness of nationa woe, and the happiness of one favoured circle of being. no music will ever fully exhibit; but all that a spirits and high toned art could effect was done by Mendelssohn, in this portion of his composition, to develop the super natural grandeur of the subject. At this point the Oratorio has but opened the subject; the prediction of the famine has startled the land of Judah, and a nation is presented deprecating the threatened infliction. But the calamity begins to work; and a hundred bright rills which gushed down Judea's mountains, rippled by the gnarled roots of ancient cedars The performance now begins to concentrate its pores on the slopes of Lebanon, and shed their soft beauty over on the great event which once struck a whole pe p valleys consecrated by memorials of a holy past,- are all with awe, and through long ages displayed the bright dried up, and desolation is placing her sombre mark on ness of the avenger to the startled eyes of idolaters once happy villages. This condition of the land is Elijah is brought before us uttering that subline cha brought before the audience by recitative chorus, lenge to the priests of Baal, which is now, even to the beginning with “The deeps afford no water, and the imagination of the purely intellectual man, a devlee rivers are exhausted." The composition now advances ment of such moral grandeur as beams upon the earth into the narrative, and hints with solemn words and only at intervals of a thousand years. We are s suggestive music, another element in the condition of customed to discourse on the power of truth, a suffering Israel. Our attention is called from physical chaunt forth our “Magna est veritas, et prevalabit," to spiritual evils; from the melancholy and woe-stricken with all this we are strangers to great contests, al cities, in the streets of which the laughing music of know little of the granite-like endurance required childhood's voice is heard no more, to the gloomy groves | accumulating dangers. Elijah calmly sumpets where stand in ominous splendour the altars of Baal, priests of Baal to a trial of their mission before t and the priests of the host of heaven. The planets shed own altars. The bold confidence of the prophet we their soft light from their far-off paths on those dark gazing upon the woods and mountains of Carmel, waving trees, and the moonbeams gild, with a pale utters in the musical harmonies of the oratorio—“I splendour, the horns of those foliage-veiled altars: but voke your forest gods and mountain deities,”—proj thence rises the plague which now overshadows the land. us for the strains of alternate grandeur and be The sin of idolatry has degraded the people, and called | which speak alike to ears and hearts. Then fellows down upon the tribes remedial punishments. This fact magnificent chorus in which the priests of Baal are to is suggested by Mendelssohn in the recitative opening presented invoking the object of their widest with Ye people rend your hearts, forsake your idols." | superstition. The words "Hear, mighty God; Ba The composer has not, however, left the audience to answer us!" are given with a power which attests then suppose that a whole people have lost their ancientposer's perfect conception of the fierce spirit of faith, and forgotten the marvels of their early history; and, therefore, the voice of gentle hope is heard breathing sweetly in the soft beauty of the air, If with all your hearts ye truly seek me." Like a voice from the watching angels dees the promise float along over those polluted groves of Baal, the incense of which seems to rise like a pestilential smoke towards heaven. But these gleams of hope on the horizon, like summer light in the west when night is deepening, are not sufficient to dispel the horrors which rest on Israel's prince and people; the sin is not yet passed away, and, there fore, the calamity spreads. We accordingly next hear the melancholy forebodings of those Jews who saw both the depth of the national degradation, and the necessity 11: The public exhibition of sacred narratives can be traced for a period of nearly fifteen hundred years in the Christian Church. ticism in those doomed hierophants of an imaginary t The sacred irony, with which Elijah attempted to call the maddened idolaters to a feeling that al trusted in was false, is nobly developed in the recitar Call him louder, for he is a God." We see the exe priests, who had risked their power in one daring a tempt to confront Elijah, whirling in fanatic danc around the altar, cutting their bodies, and gazing 11 intervals into the tranquil sky for the appearance of the fire; we hear their wild outeries to the God of the power of the air, as with diminishing hope they mak the mountains echo with "Hear and answer, Ba Mark how the scorner derideth us." But the last val of the idolaters is over, and the hush of deep expecta tion now suspends the breath of the host grouped rond the steeps of Carmel, as the heaven-commissioned pro phet, with the calmness of celestial power, approaches | the altar. The quiet grandeur of such a spectacle is impressively suggested by the recitative, in which the assertor of eternal truth to a fallen people is supposed to summon the congregated tribes of his nation to witness the fall of the avenging fire, now about to annihilate the haughty insolence of a pagan priesthood. The power of the scene is increased at this moment by the quartett representing the gentle voices of angels, the soft musical whispers of the seraphim floating through the still air, and suggesting lofty thoughts of that sympathy which the invisible spirits take in the history of earth. The subject now changes, and a bold strain of choral music brings before us the descending fires, the triumph of the prophet, and of all who had stood in such perilous times near the storm-beaten banner of the truth. A series of recitatives, airs, and choruses prolong the grandeur of the decisive victory just obtained over the powers of paganism, the arrogant priests of which perish by the indignation of a people whose understandings and imaginations had been long fast bound in the miseries of darkness and superstition. We must not be drawn from the narrative of the oratorio by speculations or reasonings on the destruction of Baal's prophets, whose total ruin might be proved absolutely necessary for the highest interests, not only of Israel but of the world. We cannot how ever refrain from once more surveying these marvellous events as developed in the music of Mendelssohn. We have here no space for criticism on the technical excellencies of the composition, our object being rather to develop the idea of the oratorio, than exemplify its artistic merits. All must have been impressed by the rare felicity with which the composer illustrated the great and diverse events which on that memorable day struck with terror or amazement the heart of a nation. The despairing agony of the false priests; the sublime confidence of Elijah; and the sympathy of the glorious who tabernacle round the world, are all displayed to the imagination of the hearer, who is for a time endowed by such music with a species of supernatural vision, by which he pierces the mists of ages, and beholds the distant Israelitish people of a thousand ages pist. enemies, and almost despairing of the triumph of truth, utters his mournful soliloquy in the desert. The idea now suggested by the oratorio is this, "Elijah is left to the solitude of the wilderness, man has deserted the prophet, and Israel is even yet willing to restore the prostrate altars of Baal." But the apostle of truth is not alone, the air around utters sounds of life, and reveals unnumbered spiritual intelligences; the souls of ancient prophets and of patriarchs unite with that other host of unknown beings, called angels in human speech, to support the prophet. The beautiful trio, "Lift thine eyes to the mountains whence cometh help," shed a soft influence over the audience, and enriched the imagination with a gently flowing stream of celestial images. This part is well placed in the oratorio, for it precedes the journey of forty days to Mount Horeb, and thus shows the source whence Elijah derived his supernatural strength. To realize this portion of the composition, it is essential to carry our minds far back, through all the tumults and changes of many ages, to a period when supernaturalism existed visibly before men, and miracles were constantly revealing the mighty powers now resting behind the machinery of general laws. This mysterious condition of the ancient earth, at least in Judea, is repeatedly forced upon the attention in the "Elijah," where the spirits of a higher abode are supposed to be brought into constant communication with man. Upheld by such influences the prophet passes to Horeb, the grand supernaturalism of which is suggested by the chorus, "Behold, God the Lord passed by, and a mighty wind rent the mountains round-and the earth was shaken; but yet the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake there came a fire, and yet the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire there came a still small voice; and in that still small voice onward came the Lord." The elemental commotion, and the sublime quietude succeeding, whilst the mysterious voice speaks, present a contrast of solemn grandeur and heart-subduing stillness. The majesty of the ora torio rises to the full height of the sublime, as we remember that such events did really happen at a certain hour of a certain day in Mount Horeb; when, after the Arabian wilds had heard the roar of the rushing tempest, that voice broke on the ears of a man resting in the entrance of a small cave, with covered face and prostrate form. The quartett, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord," appropriately follows such a manifestation of super-mundane power; after which lofty recitatives, airs, and choruses, proclaim the triumph of the heavens, and the joy of earth. The first part closes with the miraculous fall of rain which descends on the parched dales, where no lilies of the valley have of late appeared, and sounds most musical amid the myriad leaves of Carmel's groves. The gathering of the clouds, the heaving of the sea, and the commotion of the heavens, rush upon the ear in the nicely Mendelssohn then images the final event in Elijah's adapted music; whilst the five hundred chorus singers earthly history, his translation from earth, which the sustain the imagination of each hearer in the Thanks words of a powerful chorus assist our imagination to be to God! he heareth the thirsty land! The waters contemplate as the ascending prophet disappears gather," &c. This scene ends in a grand strain of mag-veiled in brightness. As this closed Elijah's ministry, nificent beauty, disclosing the fallen altars and disgraced temples of Baal, whilst the true and the faithful sons of Israel stand exalted amongst the repenting crowd. The second part opens with gloomy forebodings, and remonstrances with the powers of evil, which still rule the palaces of Israel. The mighty signs from heaven have not bowed the heart of Ahab, and already the desire of revenge has fired the vindictive monarch, who mourns over the absent rites of Moloch, and the ruined worship of Baal. A recitative and chorus, in which the wretched Jezebel and her flatterers join in execrating Elijah, illustrate the perils of the prophet. This part will recall to the classical scholar the structure of the ancient Greek chorus, in which some speaker utters his thoughts to a chorus as the representatives of the nation, and these again in responsive strains re-echo the dark sayings of the speaker. Thus the chorus in the Elijah sympathize with the pagan queen, and utter, in the words Woe to him, he shall perish," the full concentration of the malice with which the demons regard the spirits of the blessed. Elijah retires from the fury of his so does the illustrative chorus terminate the true action of the oratorio. The concluding airs, recitatives, and choruses, do but form a graceful close to the sacred epic, and serve to prolong, in gentle re-echoes, the impression already produced. One decided merit in the composition is its harmony with the spirit and meaning of Elijah's actual history; whilst much that must be imagined to have accompanied such events is suggested with that lofty ideality appropriate to such a theme. To say that all the grandeur surrounding the ministry of Elijah is brought out by Mendelssohn, would be too high praise for human skill to merit; for, on every side of such great facts, numberless images of the sublime float, which chide all the efforts of the intellect to give them a distinct and picture-like form. But it may be safely affirmed that the composer has aimed high, and generally succeeded in attaining his object; and higher praise cannot be given to Handel or Haydn, with whom Mendelssohn may justly hope to stand, in the temple which shall be raised by coming ages to the memory of genius. W. D. Poetry. [In Original Poetry, the Name, real or assumed, of the Author, is printed in Small Capitals under the title; in Selections, it is printed in Italics at the end.] A SKETCH FROM LIFE. BY CHARLES HAINS GUNN, How brigh is summer oft portrayed in life's first op'ning spring, When hope paints prospects lovely, and when, trembling on the wing, The soul pursues her mystic flight, through many a dreary maze ; Or led, as by a meteor false-a bright, delusive blaze! Keenly the heart will feel the wound, by cherished hopes undone !- How quickly clouds will gather o'er the glory of the sun! Thus 'twas with thee;-thou didst not look on hopes as passing shades ; Anticipation often culls the flower that soonest fades! Thou didst not think thyself a prey-thy foe was in his lair!- How calm the ocean, hushed the wind! when o'er the crisped wave Thy little barque skimmed gallantly-to bear thee to thy grave! At length, at length, the angry blast of hurricane swept o'er, And here thou art, a wreck, compared to what thou wert before! How distant from thy heart the thought, that so serene a form Should ere be roughened by the wind, or maddened by the storm! He digs in vain for happiness, who digs in earth's gross mines, Who grasps at tinselled gaudes, forgets "All is not gold that shines!" Mysterious dream! it is not here bliss is allowed to dwell, Yes, such is life; but cease to weep, although thy heart must feel to bloom! And summer bright is quickly chased by winter's dreary gloom; As children at the mountain's base will often gaze on high, The garland's withered on thy brow, and from thy cheek is flown And thy horizon, once so bright, is darkened with a storm! The wild caprice of traitor man oft blasts the bloom of youth,- Oh, could I stand upon yon rock, the monarch of life's ocean, And throw a calmness o'er its breast, thus still its wild commotion ! And with my breath disperse the clouds, and bid the tempest cere, And hold the hurricane that sweeps, and change thy storm to peace! But, no, alas! it cannot be; time's curtain now must fall, Death comes to end this chequered scene, and spread thy funeral pall! VILLAGE LYRICS. No. II. THE PATRIARCH. W. BRAILSFORD. NINETY years have passed and gone, Since the balmy sun first shone Where his kinsmen lie, As he would not be forgot "One, two, three," he counts each grave As he totters by, Seeming he would like to crave "One, two, three,-aye, there, beneath Sweet flowers over all." As a withered oak doth stand All around his branches sere, So the busy urchins come With their merry words; In a mimic state they go Much tliey marvel he should show But he heeds them not, his heart He hath memories apart That he hopes will last Of the Sabbath hymn. Sinks the sun in golden state Slowly in the west, And the linnet seeks her mate In their leafy nest. The bell in solemn tone is rung- GREAT EVENTS FROM LITTLE CAUSES. In wandering through the "highways and byeways" of history, how curious it is to seek out the springs which set the world in motion, and to read how the most trivial circumstances have occasioned the subversion of empires, and erected new ones in their stead; in a word, how the most important events frequently came to pass from very inconsiderable causes. A few instances, "though at random strung," may be interesting. The story of Semiramis shall be our first instance. How this beautiful heroine, by her charms and her valour, won the heart and crown of Ninus, King of Assyria, history doth tell. Enamoured of his bride, one unlucky morning, he resolved on the pleasure of seeing all Asia subject to the will of one who had possession of his heart: he, therefore, gave her absolute authority for the space of one day, and ordered all his subjects to execute the commands of Semiramis. A wise and prudent woman would, doubtless, have made use of this frolic to tell Ninus of his faults; not so, however, Semiramis; she consulted her ambition and her cruelty, for as soon as Ninus had placed this power in her hands, she employed it in causing him to be assassinated. The traitors whom she employed for this vile purpose, reported that the king had given up the reins of the empire to his wife, because he found his end approaching; this the people believed, and readily acknowledged Semiramis as their sovereign. How she used her newly-acquired power by building the city of Babylon, employing two millions of men; how she extended the Assyrian empire by levelling mountains, turning the course of rivers, and building vast cities; and how she failed in her attempted conquest of India, and was, in consequence, privately put to death by her son Ninias, history doth narrate; we have told enough to prove how a little cause produced a great effect. Agesilaus, when in the flush of conquest, was one day suddenly seized with the cramp in his left leg, which caused him great pain. "Men thinking that it had been but blood which filled the vein, a physician being there, opened a vein under the ancle of his foot, but there came such abundance of blood that they could not staunch it, so that he swooned often, and was in danger of present death. In fine, a way was found to stop it, and they carried him to Lacedæmon; where he lay sick a long time, so that he was past going to the wars any more, and thus Lacedæmon lost her hero. "In most naval fights," says Sir Thomas Browne, some notable advantage, error, or unexpected occur rence hath determined the victory. The great fleet of Xerxes was overthrown by the disadvantage of a narrow plain for battle. In the encounter of Diulius, the Roman, with the Carthaginian fleet, a new invention of the iron corvi, (beaks to the ships,) made a decision of the battle on the Roman side. The unexpected falling off of the galleys of Cleopatra lost the battle of Actium. Even in the battle of Lepanto, if Caracoza had given the Turks orders not to narrow on account of the number of the Christian galleys, they had in all probability, declined the adventure of a battle; and even when they came to fight the unknown force, an advantage of the eight Venetian galliasses gave the main stroke unto the victory." Archimedes, we know, set fire to the ships of Marcellus at a considerable distance, by burning-glasses; and this philosopher, who had offered to move the world with a lever, was taken off in a very unseemly manner; for he was killed by a soldier who knew him not, while intent upon some geometrical figures, which he had drawn upon the sand. Rome, in its foundation by the twin-brothers, Romulus and Remus, saved from the torrent of the Tiber; and the preservation of the capitol by the cackling of geese, are examples of great effects from little causes, too familiar to need quotation in detail. The found ing of Carthage by Dido, is a kindred event; for the cunning colonist, to escape the cruelty of her brother Pygmalion, put her goods and chattels on board ships, and sailed in quest of a new settlement; having landed on the African coast, Dido is said to have bought from the natives as much ground as she could encompas with a bull's skin. In this transaction she evinced both ingenuity and mathematical skill, for she not only cut the skin into very small thongs, but, after joining them, laid them in the form of a circle, a figure which encloses the largest space by the smallest bounding line. On that ground she built Carthage, one of the most celebrated cities of antiquity. The latter part of this account has been disputed, but it has often been quoted as authentic history. The fall of Lucretia was the cause of the expulsi of the kings from Rome, and the change of the monarchy into a republic; and the licentious passion of one of the Decemviri, (Appius Claudius,) led to the abolition of the Decemvirate, as is told in the touching story of Virginius and his daughter. The conspiracy of Catiline was defeated through the disgust of Fulvia with her lover, Curtius, when he coul! no longer heap presents upon her. Curtius, who was one of the conspirators, had "in moments of cont dence," told the plot to Fulvia, who spread it abroad: it soon reached the ears of Cicero, who discovered it to the Senate: Catiline fled from Rome, and took p arms; he was pursued; overtaken; a battle ensued, in which he was killed, and thus Rome was saved by the betrayal of a woman's secret, from one of the most powerful combinations ever formed for the overthrow of the Roman state. The ugliness of another Fulvia was the cause of a civil war between Anthony Octavius; for Octavius rejecting the suit of Fulvia, and declaring that her ugliness terrified him more that death, the indignant woman led the Roman soldiers against him, and set the two Triumviri fighting. Titus Antoninus was raised to the throne of the Cæsars through his affection for his father. The en peror Adrian one day saw Titus leading the infirm man to the Senate; he instantly adopted him, and after the death of Adrian, Titus ascended the imperial throne Commodus, another emperor, of a very different stamp, was killed through a child playing with a paper which he had found in the emperor's chamber; th little boy had been reared in the palace, had followed Commodus into his apartment, and staying there after his departure, took up the paper, and went out of doors. playing with it as he walked through the street; the child was met by a woman, who, taking the document out of his hand, found it to be the sentence for her own death, as well as some other persons; they together saved their own lives by first poisoning, and them strangling the imperial tyrant. Belisarius, one of the greatest captains in history. after having conquered the Persians, and subdo Africa and Italy, was deprived of all his honours and dignities for having very properly reproached s worthless wife. She being a confidante of the empress persuaded the latter to get up a charge of revolt agains Belisarius, and then instigated Justinian to confiscate the soldier's estate and goods, and degrade him. “Before Belisarius's disgrace," says the account, somewhat naïvely, "every person thought it an honour to be in his company; but, after his misfortune, none dared t speak to him, compassionate him, or even mention his name. True friends are rarely met with among the great." Placidia, the mother of Valentinian III., Emperor of the West, brought up her daughter, Honoria, s severely, that the young princess, who was a forward vixen, to get rid of the maternal restraint, wrote a letter to Attila, King of the Huns, offering him her hand, and as a pledge of her faith, sent him half a ring. Attila, who only wanted a pretext for ravaging the |