Proprietor of the visual organs now scanning this page, which the publisher, with the still but potent voice of print, proclaimeth henceforth and forever mine, _do_ you love music? rejoice you in the melody of singing voices? If you reply in the affirmative, then most heartily do I wish that you occupied my place at this present moment; for over the way—oh, most uncomfortable proximity!—there is a “Hall,” where regularly meet a number of _vocalists_, whose chief object in life, for all I can discover, seems to be to ascertain to a certainty the exact power of their individual lungs—perhaps a secondary intent may be to edify this usually calm neighborhood; in case this latter should be at all an influential motive, I hereby proclaim that I, being the neighbor most concerned, am fully satisfied, and far from following the pernicious example of the world-renowned Oliver, I will not cry for “more,” on the contrary, I would much rather stoop to compromise; and if they will but cessate, I will henceforth and forever maintain a most unbreakable silence on all musical subjects, though in doing so, you can hardly conceive what a _sacrifice_ I would be making. Oh, could you but hear them shout “I _will_ praise the Lord!” perhaps if you are a good Christian you might put up with the nuisance, after having given utterance to only a _partial_ sigh; but possessing as _I_ do so small a share of the Christian graces, I can only say in answer, though with all reverence, “if you call _this_ praise, beseech you, expedite your glorifyings, and have done.” Perhaps I owe an apology, at least a reason, for opening this chapter in such an exceedingly unamiable style: here it is then. I came into my “_sanctum_” with the express purpose of thinking of one I would fain tell you all about, but with thoughts so distracted as mine are at present, I fear I shall hardly do justice to any body in giving them utterance to night, and yet I feel constrained so to do; remember, in mercy, how I have been outraged by the explosion in yonder “Hall,” and so proceed. My heroine lived and _lives_ in this most beautiful of all villages in the Empire State, which, as perhaps you know, is _footed_ by the most charming of lakes imaginable, and is, though a “sleeping beauty,” (the village I mean,) when taken all together quite perfect in its way. To avoid being convicted of speaking of _any body in particular_, I shall treat of this lady as though she were one of the has beens; perhaps afterward I may tell you what she _is_.