around him is ringing and reverberating with the ecstasy of those transcendent and exulting Hallelujahs!

No, it is not entertainment alone which this occasion will have communicated to some at least of the souls which shall vibrate to these sublime and solemn strains. I know that the fervors and raptures which result from mere musical susceptibility are no safe substitute for the prayer and praise which belong to the true idea of religious worship, and I am not altogether without sympathy with those who would be glad to see this ancient society returning to its original practice during the first ten or fifteen years of its existence, by giving some of its public performances, as they are now doing, at times when they may be attended and enjoyed by those to whom the domestic circle or the services of the Sanctuary are the chosen and cherished occupations of a Sunday evening. But it will be an evil day for the best interest of mankind, when the noblest and most impressive varieties of music shall be utterly discarded and divorced from the service of religion, and given finally over to the meretricious uses of sensuality or superstition. The sacred Chronicler has told us how it was, under the old dispensation - that it was only "when the singers and the trumpeters were as one, to make one sound to be heard in praising and thanking the Lord, and when they lifted up their voice with the trumpets and cymbals and instruments of music and praised the Lord, saying, 'For he is good; for his mercy endureth for ever;"" that it was only then, at the outpouring of that grand vocal and instrumental unison of thanksgiving and praise, that the visible glory of the Lord came down, filling and overshadowing the house of God. And though the Gospel does undoubtedly point to a purer and more spiritual worship, yet from that most memorable and solemn hour, of which the simple record runs concerning the Saviour and his disciples," And when they had sung an hymn, they went out unto the Mount of Olives," from that most memorable and solemn hour, Music has been recognized as a consecrated handmaid of Christianity; and those which Christ himself has thus joined together, it is not for any man to put asunder.

And may God grant that the performances which are now about to begin, may be endued with a double power over the

hearts of all who hear them;-that these resounding anthems may do something to purge and purify the corrupted currents of the air we breathe; that these lofty enunciations and reiterations of the great truths of the Bible may aid in arresting and driving back the tide of delusion, infidelity, and crime which is raging and swelling so fearfully around us; and that these Hosannahs and Hallelujahs may combine with the Prayers and Alms of the approaching Anniversary Week, in calling down a fresh blessing on our beloved city and upon us who dwell in it; so that when at last that hour shall come, which can neither be hastened nor postponed by the idle calculations of learned astrologers, or the idler conjurations of diviners and sorcerers, — when the trumpet of the Archangel shall be heard sounding through the sky and summoning us, in God's own time, from our destined sleep of death, our hearts and voices may not be wholly unattuned for uniting with Cherubim and Seraphim and all the Company of Heaven in that sublime Trisagion, —“Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts! heaven and earth are full of the majesty of thy glory!"

It only remains for me, ladies and gentlemen, in behalf of this oldest existing Musical Society of Boston,- older, if I mistake not, than almost any of its kind in London, since the Institution of the Ancient Concerts has passed away with the Iron Duke, one of their principal Directors, to pronounce the single word of "welcome" to you all. But while offering you this welcome in their name, as I now most respectfully and cordially do, I feel that my duty to-day would be but half performed, if I did not, also, in your name, and as the self-commissioned organ of the vast concourse of my fellow-citizens, by whom this noble Hall will day by day be thronged,-if I did not, in your name and in theirs, assure the members of this old pioneer Association, of the sincere and grateful appreciation, which is entertained by our whole community, of their unwearied and honorable efforts in the cause of musical improvement, and of their signal success in giving a worthier and more impressive utterance to the praises of God "in the great congregation." And may the favor of Heaven, and the patronage of a generous public, never be wanting to their future career!

THE CINCINNATI SOCIETY.

A SPEECH MADE AT THE TRIENNIAL BANQUET OF THE CINCINNATI, IN BOSTON, MAY 27, 1857.

I HAD hardly expected to be called up so soon, Mr. President, while so many distinguished gentlemen around me at once better entitled to attention, and better able to reward it-are still unheard on this occasion. But I thank you sincerely for the kind words with which you have introduced my name to the company, and for the substantial compliment of being counted worthy to respond to the sentiment which has just been proposed. I cannot but feel, sir, that there is a peculiar fitness in the brave and patriotic fathers of New England being remembered at this table, and by those who are assembled at it. Perhaps nobody knew more about the rise and progress of that great contest for American Independence, out of which this society grew, and which it is especially designed to commemorate, than our own Massachusetts John Adams. And it was in one of those remarkable letters, I think, which he wrote to the honored father of my excellent friend on the left (Frederick Tudor, Esq.), that he used language somewhat of this sort: "When we call Otis and Henry and Adams and Jefferson the authors of Independence, we ought rather to say that they were only the revivers and awakeners of the old, original, fundamental principle of New England colonization." And it is true, Mr. President, that we have but one history, from the arrival of the Arbella or the Mayflower, to the Declaration of Independence and the adoption of the Constitution. The Patriot Age is only a continuation of the Pilgrim Age; another glorious chapter of the same noble volume, in which I trust, many more glorious chapters are still to be inscribed. There are differ

ences of manifestation and diversities of operation, but we may trace the same brave and patriotic spirit from the first renowned military hero of New England-Miles Standish, who performed his capital exploits at the head of an army of only eight mendown through the whole succession of captains and conquerors who displayed their valor against a savage or against a civilized foe, who fought or who fell at Bloody Brook, at Louisburg, at Quebec, or at Bunker Hill,- until we find it flowering and flaming out, in matchless perfection, in the bright, consummate WASHINGTON. It is all one history, and one and the same brave and patriotic spirit animated the old Fathers of New England and the more recent "Father of his Country."

But the present occasion, I am aware, sir, belongs eminently to the commemoration of the Revolutionary period, and of those who were prominent in it; and I hasten to express the gratification which I feel in thus being permitted to meet with so many of those, from all parts of the Union, who have inherited the blood of the gallant officers by whom our revolutionary contest was conducted. It has been my fortune only once before though frequently invited to dine with any branch of the Cincinnati. It was more years ago than I can readily count, and while I was in the military staff of a distinguished friend-then Governor of this Commonwealth whose absence we all miss so much on this occasion, and whose eloquence is always the best dessert of any dinner table at which he is present" apples of gold set in pictures of silver." I need hardly name Edward Everett.

But it is not the living only whom I miss from that well-remembered group at old Concert Hall, as I now recall it. The noblehearted Dearborn your last President-General was there. The amiable and benevolent Robert G. Shaw was there. And a gallant and venerable figure rises to my mind's eye at this moment, who had come as a guest from the neighboring Granite State, and who was accompanied, unless I am much mistaken, by a young and promising son, hardly yet distinguished even in the history of his own Commonwealth. The venerable patriot has vanished from our view, but his son has come to honor, though he knoweth it not, and is here with us to-day as an Ex-President of the United States.

But I have other and more recent associations with the Society of Cincinnati. I had the happiness, sir, a year or two since, to spend a few days at one of those charming country seats which enamel the borders of the beautiful Hudson River. It was situated near the point at which so many at once of the most exquisite features of Highland scenery, and so many of the most stirring associations of revolutionary incident, are concentrated. It was at Fishkill Landing, where I remember to have been told by my father, that he himself, then just escaped from the confinement of college life, and travelling through the country on horseback for his health, met Washington and his staff returning to West Point, unconscious apparently of what was to be communicated to them within another half hour, on the very morning on which the treason of Benedict Arnold was divulged. That, sir, was a meeting not likely to be forgotten by at least one of the parties, and which my father often recurred to with the deepest interest.

The hospitable residence at which I was staying was just opposite to the city of Newburgh, and I did not fail, of course, to cross the river and visit the old headquarters of Washington, endeared to us all by so many associations of the most interesting, and many of them of the most thrilling character. But on one of the beautiful moonlight evenings which shed their selectest influence on the whole period of my visit, my excellent host and hostess. took me to a little social gathering a few miles off, at an ancient and venerable mansion, adorned within, by not a few most valuable works of art, and surrounded without by the noblest and most picturesque productions of nature, grand old trees, whose giant branches had seemingly been tossed by the storms of centuries. In the course of the evening, when I had casually passed into an apartment which had a little more of the veritable antique about it than either of the others, it was said quietly in my hearing, "We are now in the room in which the Society of Cincinnati was originally formed." And it was so; I was at the old Verplanck manor, now occupied by the accomplished and estimable gentleman whose name is associated with so many literary and philanthropic enterprises in his native State and city,- Hon. Gulian C. Verplanck, but which, during so momentous a part of our revolutionary struggle, was the headquarters of Major