ter my appointment, I joined Dr. F. with a special
purpose in view.

We had met to discuss the music for the approaching festival of Easter.
The Doctor was in his shirt-sleeves, standing in the interior of the
organ, covered with cobwebs and dirt, inspecting the woodwork, which was
getting into a very ruinous condition, and endeavouring to replace a
pipe which had fallen from its proper position so as to interfere with
many of its neighbours.

"Here's a nice state of things," said he, ruefully regarding his
surroundings. "If we don't have something done soon the whole organ will
fall to pieces; and I am so afraid, lest in re-modelling it, the tone of
these matchless diapasons will be affected. There is nothing like them
anywhere in England. We must have it done soon, however; I only hope we
may gain more than we lose."

It was indeed time something was done. The key-boards of the old organ
were yellow and uneven with age. They reminded one of steps hollowed by
the knees of pilgrims, they were so scooped out by the fingers of past
generations of organists. Its stops were of all shapes and sizes, and
their character was indicated by paper labels gummed underneath. It had
been built about the year 1670 by Renatus Harris and, although added to
on several occasions, the original work still remained. Being placed on
a screen between the nave and the choir, it occupied an unrivalled
position for sound.

After awhile Dr. F. succeeded in putting matters a little to rights and,
seated at the key-boards, proceeded to play upon the diapasons, the tone
of which he had so extolled. It would really be impossible to exaggerate
the solemnity, the richness, and the indescribable sadness of the sounds
which proceeded from them; one never hears anything like it in modern
organs. These have their advantages and their peculiar effects, but they
lack that mellowed richness of tone which seems an art belonging to the
builders of the past.

Presently the Doctor ceased, and producing a roll of music told me it
was a Service he was accustomed to have each Easter, and asked me to
listen and say what I thought of it.

It would be impossible for me to express in words the admiration I felt
on hearing it. It was a most masterly composition, and was moreover
entirely original and unlike the writing of any known composer. It
possessed an individuality which distinguished it from every other work
of a like nature. All one could say with certainty