choir, and compelled Miss Kidd to content
herself with the charity children.

But the Kidd family were bent upon singing
somewhere; and, not content with appearing
in the chorus of the Royal Society of
Cecilian Amateurs, they transferred their vocal
strength to an unmitigated and undisguised
Roman Catholic chapel in the neighbourhood,
and with which the patriarch of the
Kidds had recently made a most advantageous
contract for wax lights. Miss Kidd
suddenly discovered that she had been guilty
of great moral impropriety in leading the
psalmody of a Protestant Church, while her
heart was in Rome; and, to quiet the pangs
of a smitten conscience, she "went over"—
but didn't return one penny of the Protestant
salary she had been receiving.

Mr. Twirk, the musical authority of Twirlington,
had just returned from the Continent,
bringing with him several scores of Corelli,
most beautifully transcribed by an Italian
maestro, two violins of fabulous ages, and a
plan and programme of the contents of about
half the continental organ-cases. Being personally
acquainted with the new vicar, the
state of the church organ attracted his attention
at once. A subscription was gradually
opened. Meaiiwhile a violent dispute arose
respecting the person to be elected to the
situation vacated by the secession of Miss
Kidd. Several candidates appeared, but three
only had a chance of success.

Mr. Nicolas Newborn was the "favourite"
with the evangelical ladies. He brought
great recommendations for piety from two
Dissenting preachers and one Church of
England clergyman; but his musical testimonials
were mostly from unknown members
of the profession.

Mr. Thomas Brogue was a clumsy, thick-set,
ill-dressed man, whose chief recommendation
appeared to be that he really did not want
the situation. Good living, and the lazy ease
enjoyed from a little private property, and
in his office of secretary to the Twirlington
Literary Institution, had produced an amount
of gout which rendered him incapable of
performing, except occasionally, at the church
at which he was already engaged. His playing
was of the heavy style, but without much
dignity. He never touched the pedals, by
reason of the gout; but groaned away upon
the lower manual, till the melody was confused
in his indistinct grovellings for correct
basses; which he seldom found. His performances,
in short, were a musical edition of his
personal appearance—heavy and confused.

The third popular candidate was an "harmonious
blacksmith." He was a quiet, sober,
honest man, and made a fair living by shoeing
horses, and other farrier's work. Few
people disliked him; and he was known to
possess an excellent ear for music. But his
education was totally insufficient for the situation.
He could play a mild extemporaneous
voluntary with taste and some finish; and he
combined the stops neatly. But of the Church
services he knew little, and was not a safe
"timist." He was largely a favourite with
the plebeian portion of the community.

Canvassing, questioning, promising, declining,
equivocating, "seeing about it," considering,
persuading, regretting having promised
—and all the other forms and ceremonies
connected with election matters, were going
on most actively. Plenty of spleen, endless ill-nature,
invidious comparisons, personal allusions,
and indirect sarcasms, were distributed
with copious freedom in the parochial district
of Twirlington. The vicar was tired of the
matter, and, foreseeing that there was little
chance of getting a good player, declined interfering.
Mr. Twirk was in agonies.

Suddenly, circulars appeared, announcing
that Mr. Sebastian Bach Schulze, sub-organist
to St. Doncaster, intended contesting the
election. He was a pleasant man of thirty,
and seemed master of every instrument he
touched. His popularity began to be great
among the musical portion of the congregation.
Twirl took him by the hand energetically,
and introduced him to all the musical
parties in the parish. The new candidate
began to shake the confidence of the respective
patrons in the other three. The system of
"trial" determined on was as follows:—Each
candidate was to perform the service for a
Sunday, and they were then to play against one
another on a certain day. After this, there
was to be a fortnight's canvass, and then the
"tug of war."

Sunday, and Sunday, and Sunday confirmed
the now rising impression respecting
the inefficiency of the three previous candidates,
and people began to be anxious for the new
candidate's performance. On that auspicious
occasion, Mr. Twirk accompanied Schulze
into the loft, and offered to manage the stops
for him. But Mr. Sebastian Bach Schulze
knew his business too well for that.

In the Twirlington, as in most of Father
Smith's organs, the diapasons and octave
stops were clear, rich, and melodious; and
the swell, which was of later addition, was
—when properly managed—tolerably good.
Want of bass was the grand mischief, and
a single octave of pedal-pipes to GG, ill compensated
for the unevenness of a manual
bass in short octaves, running in the following
whimsical rotation, GG, CC, CC sharp,
tuned to AA, DD, and so on. The easy manner
in which Schulze sate at the instrument, contrasted
with the paroxysmatic jerks of the
previous performers, would have satisfied any
one that he was a master. Firm, marked,
and distinct; faultless in time, mellow, and
subdued in tone, his playing was at once
artistic and church-like. His concluding
voluntary developed powers that no one had
believed could be elicited from the old, abused
Twirlington organ. All the other players
had cried out against the instrument, and
made it bear the blame of their incompetency.