summoning trumpet, and imitated angelic praise,
and the unfelt expressions of musical repentance, and unfearing
despondency of guilt in recitative, are any thing but congenial to a
mind properly attuned. I hope I am neither prudish, nor squeamish, nor
splenetic, but speak only what many feel, and few care to express. Now,
the cure in future for all this would be very simple: Why not have some
lay oratorios? Protestants have appropriated the madrigal, and listen,
delighted with its melody, without the needless offence of seeming to
countenance idolatry; why should they not have solemn music, new or
ancient as may be adapted, administering to their patriotism, or their
tragic interests, or historic recollections, without grating against
their feelings of religious veneration?--To be specific, let me suggest
a subject, and show, for the benefit of any Pindar of this day, its
musical capabilities: we are, or ought to be as Englishmen, all stirred
at the name of

ALFRED;

and he would minister as well to the harmonies of an oratorio as Abel,
or Jephtha, Moses, or St. Paul--nay, as the Messiah, or the last dread
Judgment. Remember, our Alfred was a proficient himself, and spied the
Danish forces in the character of a harper. What scope were here for
gentle airs, and stirring Saxon songs! He harangues his patriot band,
and a manly Phillips would personify with admirable taste the truly
royal bard: he leaves Athel-switha his wife, and a fair flock of
children in sanctuary, while he rushes to the battle-field: the
churchmen might receive their queenly charge with music: the Danes riot
in their unguarded camp with drinking-snatches, and old-country-staves:
a storm might occur, with elemental crash: the succeeding silence of
nature, and distant coming on of the patriot troops at midnight; their
war-songs and marches nearer and nearer; the invaders surprised in their
camp and in their cups; the hurlyburly of the fight--a hail-stone chorus
of arrows, a clash of thousand swords, trumpets, drums, and clattering
horse-hoofs; a silent interval, to introduce a single combat between
Alfred and Hubba the Dane, with Homeric challenges, tenor and bass; the
routed foe, in clamorous and discordant staccato; the conquerors
pressing on in steady overwhelming concord; how are the mighty
fallen--and praise to the God of battles!

Most briefly, then, thus: there is religion enough to keep it solemn,
without being so experimental as to i