MUSIC, though now a very complex and difficult art, is, i a gift of the Author of Nature to the whole human ra existence and influence are to be traced in the records people from the earliest ages, and are perceptible, at the time, in every quarter of the globe. It is a part of th volent order of Providence, that we are capable of re from the objects around us, pleasures independent of mediate purposes for which they have been created. do not merely enable us to see external things, so as ourselves of their useful properties; they enable us also the delight produced by the perception of beauty, a pe which (upon whatever principle it may be explained,) thing distinct from any consideration of the mere utili object. We could have had the most accurate percep the form and position of everything that constitutes th beautiful landscape, without receiving any idea of its We could have beheld the sun setting amid the glowi of a summer evening, without thinking of anything bey advantage of serene weather; we might have contempl glassy expanse of the ocean reflecting the tranquil the moon, without any other feeling than the comfort and easy navigation; and the varieties of hill and shady woods and luxuriant verdure, might have been only in the eyes of farmers or graziers. We could, t

the mere information they conveyed to us; and the sighing of the breeze, or the murmuring of the brook, while we learned from them nothing of which we could avail ourselves, might have been heard without pleasure. It is evident that the perception of external things, for the mere purpose of making use of them, has no connexion with the feeling of their beauty; and that our Creator, therefore, has bestowed on us this additional feeling, for the purpose of augmenting our happiness. Had he not had this design, he might have left us without the sense of beauty or deformity. "If God," says Paley, "had wished our misery, he might have made sure of his purpose by forming our senses to be as many sores and pains to us as they are now instruments of our gratification and enjoyment; or by placing us among objects so ill-suited to our perceptions, as to have continually offended us, instead of ministering to our refreshment and delight. He might have made, for instance, everything we saw loathsome, everything we touched a sting, and every sound a discord."

In place of every sound being a discord, the greater part of the sounds which we hear are more or less agreeable to us. The infinite variety of sounds produced by the winds and waters, -the cries of animals, the notes of birds,--and, above all, the tones of the human voice, all affect us with various kinds and degrees of pleasure; and, in general, it may be said, that it is such sounds as indicate something to be feared and avoided, such as the howling of wild beasts, or the hissing of serpents, that are positively painful to our ears. In this sense, all nature may be said to be full of music; the disagreeable and discordant sounds being (as in artificial music), in such proportion only as to heighten the pleasure derived from those which are agreeable. The human voice is that which pleases us chiefly, and affects us most powerfully. Its natural tones and accents are calculated to penetrate the heart of the listener; and the union of these to articulate speech, in every language, not only produces a melody which pleases the ear, but an effect on the feelings, of which the mere words would be incapable. These natural tones of the voice, either by themselves, or joined to articulate language, constitute music in its simplest state; and the pleasures and feelings derived from such music must necessarily have existed in every form of society.

The history of Music, therefore, is coeval with the history of

our species. In the earlier ages of the world, of the music of which no remains have descended to the present times, its history must be gleaned from ancient literature; and the scanty lights thus afforded, must be aided, (as far as possible,) by conjectures derived from the state of music in those rude and primitive stages of society which come under our own observation. Volumes upon volumes have been written upon the music of the ancients, full of learned research and ingenious speculation; but the results have by no means repaid the labor. From these works, a good deal of information may be acquired respecting the customs and the manners of the ancients; but they hardly contain a single fact which can be of any use to the practical musician of the present day, or to those dilettanti who prosecute musical inquiries from a love of the art as it now exists.

Without reference to historical details of any sort, it may be concluded, from the existence of music in every state of society at the present day, that it also existed in the earliest ages of the world. We find that the music of uncultivated tribes, and the music which, in civilized nations, has descended from their rude ancestors, though presenting many varieties, arising from the character of the people, the genius of their language, and other causes, has yet a strong general resemblance. By analysing the simple melodies found among the common people of Scotland, Ireland, France, and other parts of Europe, and in Hindostan, Persia, the Islands of the Indian Ocean, Africa, and even China, it is discovered that these melodies are formed upon a certain scale or series of sounds, which, therefore, is dictated and rendered agreeable to our ears by an original law of nature; and this scale, too, is substantially the same as that on which the most artificial music of the present day is founded, the latter being only rendered more extensive and complete. It cannot, then, be doubted, that, in the most ancient time, there existed melodies founded on a similar scale, and possessing similar characters to the national music of the present day: and it may reasonably be supposed, that the strains, for example, of the shepherds and herdsmen of the patriarchal ages, whose manners are so beautifully described in Holy Writ, were nearly akin to the untutored lays which are found to express the loves and griefs of the present pastoral inhabitants of similar regions. -HOGARTH.

THE wind, when first he rose and went abro
Through the waste region, felt himself at fau
Wanting a voice: and suddenly to earth
Descended with a wafture and a swoop,

Where, wandering volatile from kind to kinč
He wooed the several trees to give him one.
First he besought the ash; the voice she lent
Fitfully with a free and lasting change,
Flung here and there its sad uncertainties:
The aspen next; a fluttered frivolous twitter
Was her sole tribute: from the willow came,
So long as dainty summer dressed her out,
A whispering sweetness, but her winter not
Was hissing, dry, and reedy: lastly the pin
Did he solicit, and from her he drew
A voice so constant, soft, and lowly deep,
That there he rested, welcoming in her
A mild memorial of the ocean-cave
Where he was born.

THE SPRING.

SWEET daughter of a rough and stormy sire,
Hoar winter's blooming child, delightful spring!
Whose unshorn locks with leaves
And swelling buds are crowned;

From the green islands of eternal youth (Crowned with fresh blooms, and ever-springing si Turn, hither turn thy step

O thou, whose pow'rful voice

More sweet than softest touch of Doric reed,
Or Lydian flute, can soothe the madding winds,
And thro' the stormy deep
Breathe thy own tender calm.

Unlock thy copious stores; those tender showers
That drop their sweetness on the infant buds;
And silent dews that swell

The milky ear's green stem,

-B

SIEGE OF GIBRALTAR.

(A.D. 1782.)

FOR several months did the port of Algesiras resound with the stir and din of this great armament. Ten large ships were cut down as bases of the floating batteries; 200,000 cubic feet of timber were assigned for their construction; and they were mounted with 142 pieces of artillery, exclusive of those on the land side. Yet formidable as might seem such equipments, daily going on before his eyes, the Governor was in no degree dispirited. He continued with unremitting energy all his preparations for defence, placing especial hope in the system of red-hot balls, which were first devised and recommended by his Lieutenant-Governor, Boyd. To prepare them in sufficient numbers, there was a large distribution of furnaces and grates throughout the English troops. And so familiar did our soldiers grow, as was wished, with these new implements of death, that, in speaking of them to each other, their common phrase was "the roasted potatoes."

Early in September, the preparations of the Fre. and Spaniards were almost completed, and in the second week their united fleet, so lately threatening the British Channel, sailed ⚫ into Algesiras Bay. It was thought desirable to proceed at once to the grand attack, so as to anticipate the arrival of Lord Howe. On the morning of the 13th, accordingly, the signal was given; and while from all the lines on shore was maintained the tremendous fire which they had opened for some days, the ten floating batteries from Algesiras bore down in admirable order for their appointed stations. Before ten o'clock they were anchored at regular distances within six hundred yards of the English works. Then commenced a cannonade on both sides so fierce, so incessant, and from such a number of pieces of artillery, as it is alleged had never been seen since the discovery of gunpowder. During many hours the attack and the defence were steadily maintained; no superiority as yet being seen on either side. The English fire was not silenced, but, on the other hand, it could by no means prevail against the massy and strong-built sea-towers. The heaviest shells rebounded from their tops; the red-hot balls seemed to make no impression on their sides; or if by these last a momentary spark was kindled, it was at once subdued by the