the delight of every lover of vocal
harmony. It is to Italy, however, that we are indebted for this species of
composition. The madrigal is a piece of vocal music adapted to words of an
amorous or cheerful cast, composed for four, five, or six voices, and
intended for performance in convivial parties or private musical societies.
It is full of ingenious and elaborate contrivances; but, in the happier
specimens, contains likewise agreeable and expressive melody. At the
period of which we now speak, vocal harmony was so generally cultivated,
that, in social parties, the madrigal books were generally laid on the
table, and every one was expected to take the part allotted to him. Any
person who made the avowal of not being able to sing a part at sight was
looked upon as unacquainted with the usages of good society--like a
gentleman who now-a-days says he cannot play a game at whist, or a lady
that she cannot join in a quadrille or a mazurka. The Italian madrigals of
Luca Marenzio and others are still in request: and among the English
madrigalists we may mention Wilbye, author of "Flora gave me fairest
flowers;" Morley, whose "Now is the month of Maying" is so modern in its
air, that it is introduced as the finale of one of our most popular operas,
the Duenna; and Michael Este, the composer of the beautiful trio, "How
merrily we live that Shepherds be." This music retains all its original
freshness, and has been listened to, age after age, with unabated pleasure.

The glee, which is a simpler and less elaborate form of the madrigal,--and
that amusing _jeu d'esprit_ so well known by the name of Catch, made their
appearance about the end of the sixteenth century. The first collection of
catches that made its appearance in England is dated in
1609.--_Metropolitan_.

* * * * *

BENEDICTION ON CHILDREN.

IMPROMPTU.

_By Thomas Campbell, Esq_.

Imps, that hold your daily revels
Round the windows of my bower
Would that Hell's ten thousand devils
Had you in their clutch this hour!

Screaming, yelling, little nasties,
Would that Ogres down their maw
Had you cramm'd in Christmas pasties,
That would make ye hold your jaw.

Saucy imps, stew'd down to jelly,
Ye would make a sauce most rare;
Or with pudding in each belly,
Rival roasted pig or hare.

Sweeter than the fish of these is,
Would be yours, young human _bores_;
All with apples at your n