But through all this need and sorrow
Has the end been drawing nigh:
In these prison walls, to-morrow,
It will not be hard to die.
Though, upon this cold floor lying,
Bitter the last pang may be—
Still your prayers have sweet replying—
The dear Lord has stood with me!
And His hand the gates shall open,
And the home shall fairer shine,
That mine earthly one was given,
And my life, dear land, for thine.
So I patient wait the dawning
That shall rise and still this pain—
Brighter than that last sweet morning
By the old house in the lane!
When the sunbeams, growing bolder.
Sought him in the noon, next day—
Starved to death, New Hampshire's soldier
In the Libby Prison lay.
MUSIC A SCIENCE.
Much has been written concerning music. Volume after volume, shallow or erudite, sentimental or critical, prejudiced or impartial, has been issued from the press, but the want (in most instances) of a certain scientific foundation, and of rational canons of criticism, has greatly obscured the general treatment of the subject. Truth has usually been sought everywhere except in the only place where she was likely to be found, namely, in the realm of natural law, and consequently, of science. Old tomes of Greek and Latin lore, school traditions, the usage of the best masters, and the verdict of the human ear (a good judge, but not always unperverted), have been appealed to for decisions upon questions readily answered by a knowledge and consideration of first principles resting upon the immutable laws of sound, upon numerical relations of vibrations. These principles are strictly scientific, and capable of demonstration.
So long ago as 1828, the American public was told by Philip Trajetta,[B] that 'if counterpoint be not a science, neither is astronomy.' For want of proper expounders, this truth has made but little impression, and, while the Art of Music has advanced considerably among us, the Science has remained nearly stationary. In Europe, erudition, research, and collections of rules have not been wanting. Much has been accomplished, but an exhaustive work, based upon the simple laws of nature, has (so far as the writer can learn) never yet appeared. The profoundly learned and truly great Bohemian musician, W. J. Tomaschek, who died in 1849, taught a system of musical science founded upon a series of beautiful and easily comprehended natural laws. His logical training and wide general cultivation gave him advantages enjoyed by few of his profession. The result of his researches has unfortunately never been published, and his system of harmony is thoroughly known only by his more earnest and studious pupils.