compass,
force, quality of the voice, from a mere inspection of the throat and
chest. In the case of the organ, however, we have the advantage of being
able to minutely inspect every throat and larynx, to walk into the
interior of the working mechanism, and to see the adaptation of each
part to its office. In absolute power and compass the Music-Hall organ
ranks among the three or four mightiest instruments ever built. In the
perfection of all its parts, and in its whole arrangements, it
challenges comparison with, any the world can show.

Such an instrument ought to enshrine itself in an outward frame that
should correspond in some measure to the grandeur and loveliness of its
own musical character. It has been a dream of metaphysicians, that the
soul shaped its own body. If this many-throated singing creature could
have sung itself into an external form, it could hardly have moulded one
more expressive of its own nature. We must leave to those more skilled
in architecture the detailed description of that noble _facade_ which
fills the eye with music as the voices from behind it fill the mind
through the ear with vague, dreamy pictures. For us it loses all
technical character in its relations to the soul of which it is the
body. It is as if a glorious anthem had passed into outward solid form
in the very ecstasy of its grandest chorus. Milton has told us of such a
miracle, wrought by fallen angels, it is true, but in a description rich
with all his opulence of caressing and ennobling language:--

"Anon out of the earth a fabric huge
Rose, like an exhalation, with the sound
Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet,
Built like a temple, where pilasters round
Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid
With golden architrave; nor did there want
Cornice or frieze with bossy sculptures grav'n."

The structure is of black walnut, and is covered with carved statues,
busts, masks, and figures in the boldest relief. In the centre a richly
ornamented arch contains the niche for the key-boards and stops. A
colossal mask of a singing woman looks from over its summit. The
pediment above is surmounted by the bust of Johann Sebastian Bach.
Behind this rises the lofty central division, containing pipes, and
crowning it is a beautiful sitting statue of Saint Cecilia, holding her
lyre. On each side of her a griffin sits as guardian. This centre is
connected by harp-shaped compartments, filled with pipes, to the two