horse that sleeps standing, they must get what they need, when and how they can. The people themselves feel this, and with the same haste and energy that they are required to work with, seek their pleasures; so that the very excitement which they think compensates in its intensity for the brevity of the pleasure itself, is but another mistaken source of mischief, increasing the feeling of unrest which they hope to cure; and here, I feel, lies the great difficulty of the subject." These are the words of a clergyman of the English Church, expressed in a private letter which we are permitted to copy. He has been watching this problem, where it is most difficult of solution, in the severe regularity of the arrangements of labor of a manufacturing town. His experience, as he goes on to describe it, at more length than we are at liberty to copy his suggestions, points out the inutility of lyceum lectures for resting people, the doubtfulness of oratorios and scientific music, for the same end, — and the extreme difficulty of managing the drama. On the other hand, their public park, and such home amusements as come in where a taste for gardening, or some scientific hobby, can be cultivated, the cricket club, the reading-room, and better magic lanterns than we are apt to see, ― have proved of use within his observation, and suggest hints which he thinks might be carried farther. There is not one of these hints, of which we could not furnish illustrations from New England life. A friend tells us that the weekly meetings, in summer, of the Horticultural Society in Worcester, in this State, though simple and quite unpretending, show that the interest in the culture of flowers is by no means confined to the proprietors of large and elegant gardens. The taste for flowers is said to supply the especial fine art of the place; and, for the short season when it can be gratified, to do much to supply the want which such a town, a centre of manufacture, feels of course, for the healthy and innocent occupation of leisure hours. It would not be so easy, however, to show any instances of such advantage derived from New England clubs for cricket or similar athletic sports. The college rowing clubs have done a good work for students, — but we have no especial fear for them; and the regatta mania does not

seem as yet to have swept clerks, machinists, lawyers, and other prisoners of civilization into its vortex. Mr. Whipple, a distinguished practical man of science here, did something a few years ago to uplift the magic lantern into a legitimate place as an amuser of the people, but was not seconded with so much effect as we could have desired.

In some localities here, to one of which we have just now alluded, we have a public entertainment, which illustrates the advantage of public provision for amusement, though it cannot be extended to other places. At those centres where, from custom or convenience, the political or reform conventions of a State are held, the supply of public speaking, of much wider range and higher tone than the poor drivel of local repartee, forms a material part of the training of the people. It has always proved impossible, we are told, to sustain a tolerable theatre in Washington, although there is such a crowd of money-spending strangers there, because the arenas of the two Houses, and the graver discussions of the Supreme Court, really afford better entertainment than does tragedy, melodrama, or ballet. We well remember the melancholy drawl with which a young English attaché there sighed out complaint of his misery, because "there ith really no opera here." He had probably been banished to this unmusical Caucasus, for his sins, from some such paradise as Villette or Carlsruhe. To our own people, who do not know what they have lost, first-rate speaking supplies the place. The same friend whose observations upon Worcester we have been quoting, tells us that as many as fifty conventions, of one sect, party, schism, or another, are held there every year. These conventions summon the best speakers they can bring together. The officers announce always, in their journals, that their hall of meeting is densely filled, and that the intelligence of the State is very fully represented there. What they do not know is, that the same audience is present on one occasion as on another. Be the delegates from a distance many or few, the hall is filled, if only the reputation of the speakers be tolerable. The most conservative of Democrats addresses the same good-natured hearers who, last week, heard the most radical of Come-outers. If he speaks as well,

he will stand good chance to be as loudly applauded. We are disposed to believe that this provision for general entertainment has a very happy result, in the high standard of judgment as to oratory and argument which it creates, and in the catholic willingness to hear all sides which springs from it. On the other hand, it may be suspected of fostering, as it did in Athens, the passion to hear something new. We allude to it only because a view of American entertainments is incomplete without it. It is peculiar to such institutions as

ours.

It is very curious to an American to observe how few Englishmen have ever heard Lord John Russell, or Lord Palmerston, or other of their own orators; while, here, almost everybody who is grown to manhood has heard, at some time, Mr. Webster, Mr. Everett, and Mr. Phillips. As a resource, however, for entertaining the vacant hours of an over-worked people, convention-going can only be counted upon by those towns which happen to be at a centre of railroad communication.

Passing from this peculiarly national recreation, which, we must confess, does not deserve the suspicion of unduly exciting the intellect, Music seems to deserve the first place among our ready means for resting our tired people, and checking, as for so many Sauls, their rapid descent into insanity. Here we do not share the impression which we have quoted above, that scientific music falls under a ban, as adding to the fatigue which it ought to soothe. We might doubt the resting effect of some operatic music; but, in general, we believe music comes in as a very exact complementary color among almost any set of human contrasts. Some one of the triad-mongers says that no life is well adjusted which occupies itself with only two things, that all life needs a third occupation. Thus, in detail, no man can satisfy himself with working and eating: he needs some third hour-spender. No woman can satisfy herself, in any day, with sewing and housekeeping; no student, with reading and writing; no artist, with sketching and composing. Every one needs at least one middle-distance to unite his background and foreground. This doctrine is not fanciful. The only question is, whether each day do not require more than three leading occupations. Now, the peculiarity of music is, that,

whatever be the other two constants in life, grave or gay music will come in between them as a soothing complement to both of them. We have only to make a few exceptions for persons of rare and exceptional constitutions. On this account, there is especial value in our recent custom, running through the larger towns, of stationing a military band on the common, to play one evening in the week for a few of the summer months. Extend the custom so as to offer the music at the public expense the year through, and three or four evenings in the week instead of one, and we come round to Mr. Hale's dream of a public, driving out bad entertainment by providing good. As encouragement in this direction, we must quote Dr. Bellows's statement, that a good orchestra at the theatre visibly diminishes the patronage given to its bar. And from our correspondents in England we have some gratifying testimonies of the value of "cheap music" there. One of our friends writes:

"Our chief progress in this reform is by cultivating the musical taste of the people, and in this direction the result is most encouraging. This movement dates back properly, perhaps, to the Birmingham Musical Festivals, twenty years or more since; for the example of Birmingham has been quite generally followed, and in all parts of the Kingdom annual musical festivals are now held, at which first-class performers provide music of the highest order to crowded assemblies. The musical taste and faculty of the nation has been so quickened by these stimulants, that now Philharmonic Societies are formed in hundreds of places; and, in all the chief cities and towns, series of concerts are given every season, at rates which bring this pleasure quite within range of the middle classes, from whose influence again the love and habit of musical enjoyment descends to the people; so that the British nation promises to become, in another generation or two, universally musical. So far, so good; and very good it is. But to come more nearly to what you are intent upon, — really popular amusements, let me go on to say, that the movement in this lowest social level was much aided, some three or four years since, by a German, named Mainzer, who travelled through the kingdom, giving popular concerts, and forming, at the lowest rates, monster singing-schools, which were attended by men, women, and children of the working classes. He taught singing also in the common schools, and generally awakened the desire, while showing the method, of making music a part of popular education. Thus the people have practically entered on the course of

musical training; and there is good reason to hope that this excellent beginning will be followed out, until instruction in singing, blended perhaps, in time, with instrumental performance, shall become an indispensable part of education."

Side by side with this general musical training have grown up the "cheap concerts" in the large English towns. For an admission fee of twopence or threepence, large halls are thrown open for the performance of fine organ music, orchestral music, or light vocal entertainment. On the immense scale on which these are carried out in Liverpool, they are only possible in the larger towns, and under the management of a committee responsible for any failure of popularity and of funds. But such arrangements, convenient enough where the circumstances permit, do not appear to be, in any sort, essential. In some of the best-conducted English manufacturing establishments, there are schools attached, to supply wants both of adults and children, such as we do not feel so much here. One of the writers whose essays we have named above, suggests that all school-rooms should be lent in the evening to singing classes, with permission to hold soirées and pay themselves by tickets at the door. There is thus secured what is a very important feature in such arrangements, that people provide for themselves instead of being provided for. We are tempted to copy a part of the programme of such a "soirée " as this, as carried out at the Abbey Street School, connected with the world-renowned brewery of the Buxtons.

"ABBEY STREET SINGING CLASSES,

ABBEY STREET SCHOOL, BETHNAL GREEN ROAD.

PROGRAMME

OF

The Fifth Concert of Vocal Music,

TO BE GIVEN BY THESE CLASSES, IN THE LARGE ROOM OF THE ABOVE SCHOOL, TUESDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1856, AT HALF PAST SEVEN O'CLOCK.