of the performance, if she has thought yet to
count the pipes,--a thoughtful verification of Murray, which is very
commendable in a young woman traveling for the improvement of her little
mind.

One has heard so much of this organ, that he expects impossibilities,
and is at first almost disappointed, although it is not long in
discovering its vast compass, and its wonderful imitations, now of a
full orchestra, and again of a single instrument. One has not to wait
long before he is mastered by its spell. The vox humana stop did not
strike me as so perfect as that of the organ in the Rev. Mr. Hale's
church in Boston, though the imitation of choir-voices responding to the
organ was very effective. But it is not in tricks of imitation that this
organ is so wonderful: it is its power of revealing, by all its compass,
the inmost part of any musical composition.

The last piece we heard was something like this: the sound of a bell,
tolling at regular intervals, like the throbbing of a life begun; about
it an accompaniment of hopes, inducements, fears, the flute, the violin,
the violoncello, promising, urging, entreating, inspiring; the
life beset with trials, lured with pleasures, hesitating, doubting,
questioning; its purpose at length grows more certain and fixed, the
bell tolling becomes a prolonged undertone, the flow of a definite life;
the music goes on, twining round it, now one sweet instrument and now
many, in strife or accord, all the influences of earth and heaven and
the base underworld meeting and warring over the aspiring soul; the
struggle becomes more earnest, the undertone is louder and clearer;
the accompaniment indicates striving, contesting passion, an agony of
endeavor and resistance, until at length the steep and rocky way is
passed, the world and self are conquered, and, in a burst of triumph
from a full orchestra, the soul attains the serene summit. But the rest
is only for a moment. Even in the highest places are temptations. The
sunshine fails, clouds roll up, growling of low, pedal thunder is heard,
while sharp lightning-flashes soon break in clashing peals about the
peaks. This is the last Alpine storm and trial. After it the sun bursts
out again, the wide, sunny valleys are disclosed, and a sweet evening
hymn floats through all the peaceful air. We go out from the cool church
into the busy streets of the white, gray town awed and comforted.

And such a ride afterwards! It was as if the organ musi