words "I've not lost it," shall issue, for the first time, from the sacred precincts of the choir.

The psalm-tune is not the only species of musical composition adapted for public worship. We know not why the use of the venerable and always popular chant should be restricted to the Cathedral and to churches, with few exceptions, belonging to the Establishment. The chants, unlike the psalm-tune, may be applied to non-metrical language, and, in places where no liturgy is used, the highest of all language, the words of Scripture, must of course be adopted. But in sanctioning the use of the chant, the warning must not be forgotten, that with it is presented a new danger of falling into vulgar and slovenly execution. Whenever, in the ever-varying length of verses in a psalm, it happens that a great number of words must be sung to one note, the singers are liable to hasten their utterance, involving the utter dissipation of reverence and devotion. But when the words of the long verses are sung no faster than they could be deliberately read, and all the voices move together with perfect precision, we know of no music more devotional in its influence, and more generally appreciated by a congregation, than the chant.

Nor can we object to the choral anthem, which is adapted by the composer, note by note, to certain prescribed words from collect, psalm, or metrical hymn. When a connexion has been formed in the mind between the words and music in such anthems as Mason's "Lord of all power and might," Farrant's "Lord! for thy tender mercies' sake," or Webbe's (No. 258) "Hark! the glad sound," the language acquires a higher significance and position in our regard than if, as in most hymns, it is associated equally with a variety of music. The necessity for careful preparation is, we fear, the sole reason why choral anthems are so rarely heard.

Anthems containing solos or duetts, though sanctioned by the highest authority, appear to us less admissible into general use. The singing of a solitary voice, in a place of worship, seems to us always to have a tendency to convert the congregation from worshippers into critics, and the church into the likeness of a concert-room. Doubtless this is partly attributable to established association, but we are also certain that much of the inspiring influence

of the "full-voiced choir," arises from the disappearance of all individual peculiarities in one general effect.

Were all the resources of the art at our command, with every aid that elevated skill, instrumental and vocal, could bestow, we know not where we should bound our ideas of grandeur befitting the Church. It is equally difficult to say what lofty influence might not be attained by the best possible use of the materials at hand-the voice of the assembly and the organ.

Whatever changes may arise in the progress of improvement, the organ, we believe, must always retain its place in the choir. In the present imperfect state of Church music, this instrument has many offices of simple usefulness to perform, preserving the pitch, veiling the defects of the singing, giving confidence to the timid, and supplying union when the voices are scattered and unequal. As the music of the Church improves, the use of the organ may be occasionally dispensed with for the sake of the imposing effect, frequently illustrated in the works of Mendellsohn, where the music is produced by voices alone. But the high regard for this instrument always to be noticed among the great composers for the Church, and its intrinsic solemnity and grandeur, serve to assure us that its influence is destined to increase rather than to decline.

In conclusion, let us warn all directors of choirs against too sweeping changes, not in the mode of execution, but in the selection of the music. Here, as elsewhere, reform can be better effected by a process of engrafting, than by applying the axe to the root, and planting anew. An undoubted and fastidious taste which would brand and banish without delay everything which failed to reach a given standard, would perhaps meet with no audible rebuke. The indisputable judgment may probably be undisputed. But if you look into the affections of many, and especially of the older members of the congregation, you will find among their treasures those strains both of poetry and music which, now pronounced defective, have nevertheless formed, during a long and less scrupulous period, no inconsiderable part of the higher nutriment of their minds. To transfer these sentiments to new though superior objects may be impracticable, and must at the

best require time when the sensibility is either naturally weak, or enfeebled by lapse of years. In the selection, then, of both music and hymns, let the process of reform, occasionally required, be gradual, and let the reforming hand deal tenderly with those rooted attachments which, once disturbed, it may not be possible to replace.

ART. V.-SHAKESPEARE.

Shakespeare et son Temps: Etude Litteraire. Par M. Guizot. Paris. 1852.

Notes and Emendations to the Text of Shakespeare's Plays from early Manuscript Corrections in a Copy of the Folio, 1632, in the possession of R. Payne Collier, Esq., F.S.A. London. 1853.

THE greatest of English poets, it is often said, is but a name. "No letter of his writing, no record of his conversation, no character of him drawn with any fulness by a contemporary," has ever been extracted by antiquaries from the piles of rubbish which they have sifted. Yet of no person is there a clearer picture in the popular fancy. You seem to have known Shakespeare-to have seen Shakespeare-to have been friends with Shakespeare. We mean to try if we cannot to the measure of our powers and our fortune, accomplish a slight delineation of this popular idea, which, it is certain, has been formed in the main not from loose tradition or remote research-not from what some one says some one else stated that the poet said-not from documents which a schism of antiquaries makes it possible that he may have written-but from data which are at least in our hands-from the sure testimony of his certain works.

There are, we know, sceptical critics who hold that it is impossible to gather anything as to the real character of an author from his written works. They assert, that it is an erroneous idea to imagine that such things proceed from a human mind at all, for, as they know, every poet maintains a tame steam-engine which is itself responsible for his productions. Nor is this notion, though others think it foolish, at all unessential to the argument. if the works in question were really written by any man, that man must have been such a person as could have written them; he must have had the thoughts which they express, have acquired the knowledge they contain, have possessed the style in which we read them. It is only very acute critics who are so sceptical. People in general

For

think literary composition a specially significant fact; they say, "He wrote a book," as if it were a thing by itself, a gigantesque fact no way paralleled in their experience, and from that book they think they could, if they wished, derive a good deal of information about him. We shall accordingly assume that Shakespeare wrote his plays, and to satisfy the critics, now and then state the argumentative process, by which we obtain the conclusions concerning Shakespeare, that we may advance.

First of all it may be said that such works could only be produced by a first-rate imagination working on a firstrate experience. It is no doubt difficult to make out in any particular case, whether the author of a poetic creation is drawing from fancy or drawing from experience, but for a certain scale of art it may be safely said that the two must concur. Out of nothing, nothing can be created. Some plastic power is needed to make use of any species of material whatever. And when such a work as Hamlet or Othello, still more when both Hamlet and Othello, and not only those two but others also, if second to those plays, second to none others, have been created by a single mind, it may be fairly said that not only a marvellous fancy, but also a full conversancy with the world by feeling and eyesight, is necessary to their creation. The best narratives require the best subject-matter. Homer could not have so delineated Agamemnon or Achilles, if he had not through lengthy years sung his ballads at the banquets of princes. It is easy to see this; the great critics are admirers of the sculptures of Phidias, but even modern Greeks are aware that he worked upon excellent marble. And though this truth is not a new discovery or a difficult theorem, it is nevertheless a fact that has corollaries. If we know this about Shakespeare we really know more about him than we do about most people, and we will hazard our logical reputation by endeavouring to prove this in detail.

To a great experience one thing is essential-an experiencing nature. It is not enough to have opportunity, it is essential to feel it. Some occasions come to all men, but to many they are of little use, and to some they are of none. What for example has experience done for the distinguished Frenchman whose essay is prefixed to this paper? M. Guizot is the same man