THE ORGAN
BY HENRY WARD BEECHER
At one of his week night lectures, Beecher was speaking about
the building and equipping of new churches. After a few satirical
touches about church architects and their work, he went on
to ridicule the usual style of pulpit--the "sacred mahogany
tub"--"plastered up against some pillar like a barn-swallow's
nest." Then he passed on to the erection of the organ, and
to the opening recital.
"The organ long expected has arrived, been unpacked, set up, and
gloried over. The great players of the region round about, or of
distant celebrity, have had the grand organ exhibition; and this
magnificent instrument has been put through all its paces in a
manner which has surprised every one, and, if it had had a conscious
existence, must have surprised the organ itself most of all. It has
piped, fluted, trumpeted, brayed, thundered. It has played so loud
that everybody was deafened, and so soft that nobody could hear.
The pedals played for thunder, the flutes languished and coquetted,
and the swell died away in delicious suffocation, like one singing
a sweet song under the bed-clothes. Now it leads down a stupendous
waltz with full brass, sounding very much as if, in summer, a
thunderstorm should play, 'Come, Haste to the Wedding,' or
'Moneymusk.' Then come marches, galops, and hornpipes. An organ
playing hornpipes ought to have elephants as dancers.
"At length a fugue is rendered to show the whole scope and power
of the instrument. The theme, like a cautious rat, peeps out to see
if the coast is clear; and, after a few hesitations, comes forth
and begins to frisk a little, and run up and down to see what it
can find. It finds just what it did not want, a purring tenor lying
in ambush and waiting for a spring; and as the theme comes incautiously
near, the savage cat of a tenor springs at it, misses its hold, and
then takes after it with terrible earnestness. But the tenor has
miscalculated the agility of the theme. All that it could do, with
the most desperate effort, was to keep the theme from running back
into its hole again; and so they ran up and down, around and around,
dodging, eluding, whipping in and out of every corner and nook, till
the whole organ was aroused, and the bass began to take part, but
unluckily slipped and rolled down-stairs, and lay at the bottom
raving and growling in the most awful manner, and nothing could
appease it. Sometimes the theme was caught by one part, and dangled
for a moment, then with a snatch, another part took it and ran off
exultant, until, unawares, the same trick was played on it; and,
finally, all the parts, being greatly exercised in mind, began to
chase each other promiscuously in and out, up and down, now separating
and now rushing in full tilt together, until everything in the organ
loses patience and all the 'stops' are drawn, and, in spite of all
that the brave organist could do--who bobbed up and down, feet,
hands, head and all--the tune broke up into a real row, and every
part was clubbing every other one, until at length, patience being
no longer a virtue, the organist, with two or three terrible crashes,
put an end to the riot, and brought the great organ back to silence."
~~~~~~~ THE END of The Organ ~~~~~~~
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