66 Saul, he may be an hour over an omelette; if they play Pop goes the Weasel" or an Irish jig, his teeth will keep time with the rollicking air, and he will run the risk of being choked. Thus you see that, go where we may or do what we will, Music is still an endless source of worry and annoyance. It is all very fine for you to throw in my teeth what Shakespeare has written about the iniquity of the man who hath no music in himself, and the inferential excellence of the man who hath. It is all stuff and nonsense. Some of the very best men I have ever known could not hum "The Bay of Biscay," or anything else, though their lives depended upon it; and some of the most disagreeable, good-for-nothing people I have ever met were caterwauling morning, noon, and nights. Why, bless my heart, I have the happy privilege of knowing a man who, though he has not a note of music in his voice, and could not for the dear life of him tell "Ye Banks and Braes from "Yankee Doodle," is everlastingly endeavoring to sing. I had as soon listen to the cats on the tiles, or the owls in the ivy-bushes. Yet, you may take my word of honor for it, that man, all unmusical though he be, is a paragon of men. He is as near perfection as any human being can ever hope to approach. Let the poets say what they may, Music has a demoralizing, infuriating effect, and the less you have to do with it the better for your neighbors and yourself. Did it ever happen to you to live next door to a man who was learning to play the flute? If so, was there ever a day in the year that you did not thirst for his blood? Of course there was not. Sicilian tyrants never invented any such torture as to dwell within earshot of a fellow who is learning the flute. For my own part I can conscientiously affirm that the only enjoyment I ever got out of music of any sort was the indirect fun I derived from reading that splendid little story about the Primitive Methodists, somewhere in Cornwall, who, not having among them any one who had the requisite skill to play the organ, purchased a mechanical self-playing instrument. At a stated period in the service on the first Sunday after the arrival of the machine from London, a venerable Methodist wound it up very solemnly. Imagine the horror and consternation of the congregation on finding their ears saluted, not with the "Old Hundredth," but with "The Pretty Little Ratcatcher's Daughter." In vain did they subject the organ to all manner of practical remonstrances, in vain did they attempt to induce it either to change its tune or hold its peace. Finding it - irreclaimable, a couple of able-bodied Methodists lifted it on their shoulders and carried it out of the chapel. But matters were not to be thus easily arranged. True, the organ was turned out and placed ignominiously in a garden hard by; but, having been once wound up, the scampish instrument was bound to go through the whole category of its airs, and for fully half an hour the congregation was doomed to hear it shouting out of doors that Champagne Charlie was its name. The explanation of this marvellous proceeding was that the organbuilders had made the mistake of sending to the Primi tives in Cornwall an organ which was intended for the Hall-by-the-Sea at Margate. The Methodists, who are most worthy and virtuous people, were scandalized beyond expression; but their sad mishap only serves to illustrate the truth of my proposition, that music is at the bottom of half the miseries of human life. THE WITCHERY OF MANNER. MANNER is beyond question one of the most mar vellous mysteries of our nature. I now allude more particularly to personal manner, and the favor, influence, and pre-eminence which some people enjoy among their fellows by reason of that magic endowment. Who can explain the witchery of a gracious, genial manner? Whence does it come? In what does it consist? What is the source and secret of its enchanting spell? There are men and women who attract our confidence at a glance. You have not been in their company more than a minute or two, nor have you and they exchanged more than half-a-dozen words, before you feel at home with them. They have a gentle, unaffected courtesy, a frankness of look, a suavity of tone, as natural to them as is its lustre to a jewel or its fragrance to a flower. There is a nameless something—a “ je ne sais quoi," as the French phrase it, in their air and demeanor, in the expression of their eyes, in the radiance of their brows, in the smile that plays sweetly around their lips, in the very sound of their voices, which bespeaks sympathy with you and wins its way irresistibly to your heart. They have about them that touch of nature which makes the whole world kin. From the snow-fields and icebergs of the Arctic Circle to the golden orange gardens and silver olive groves of southern Italy, is not a change pleasanter or more complete than from the cold, inhospitable company and the barren arid talk of commonplace persons to the delight 66 ence. ful conversation and benignant companionship of such people as these. It is manner that makes all the differ"Manner maketh man," says the old proverb, nor man alone, but woman also. This it is that ineffably enhances the charms of the loveliest face and causes one to forget the plainness of the least comely. "Where is it?" asks Mr. Thackeray. "What is it-the secret which makes one little hand the dearest of all?" Is it not manner? After depicting with masterly skill the personal perfections of Haidee, her fine features and matchless form, Byron illustrates her crowning glory by one of the simplest, but, at the same time, one of the happiest similes in the whole range of English poetry :— "and her manner Shed hovering graces round her, like a banner." To realize the poetic value of this image, picture to yourself what wonderful beauty there is in a banner of any kind, whether in the standard of battle or in the trembling pennant of a ship cleaving her foamy track through the waters, or in the flag waving in the wind from the battlements of some grand old castle. What a grace for example does the flag floating from Windsor Castle give to that superb structure, and to the woodland landscape that surrounds it! What an air of refinement that radiant ensign imparts to the whole scene! Just such is the effect of manner. I have present to my memory, as I write, a woman now in Paradise, whom to have known was indeed to have loved. She was not beautiful, but she was delightful. Go where she might she brought sunshine with her. Her friends were ever the happier for her coming, ever the sadder for her going. She had a tear for every sorrow, a smile for every joy. Her sympathetic manner soothed and brightened every one. Never have I seen a woman who verified so accurately Young's melodious verses : "What's female beauty but an air divine, Through which the soul's more gentle graces shine; The body charms because the mind is seen." There is the whole pith of the question. Nothing so tries my patience as to be told by the apologists of a brutal man that I must excuse his brutality on account of his manner. "Oh! never mind; it is only his manner." This is begging the whole question. In his odious manner dwells his whole offence. It is of his manner that I complain. Let him mend it. Alas! as well might you ask him to fly to the moon. Whether in man or woman, manner is the out-come of the inner nature. So it was regarded by the ancient Romans, who used the same word-"mores"-to signify both manners and morals. It is a vulgar error, and worthy of the vulgar, since nothing can be more absurd, to regard rude, disagreeable people, as good-hearted. What fudge! Humanity even in its best types is but frail, and I can entirely understand that a man of sound and sweet nature may occasionally indulge in outbursts of passion. The warmth of his heart finds its way into his temper; but the remorse of such a man is generally in excess of his offence, and the true manliness of his disposition ever prompts him to make all the atonement in his power for the annoyance he may have caused to his neighbors. But to tell me that that man can have a good heart who is systematically perverse, cross-grained, morose, impolite, and regardless of the feelings of |