amused, "The idea of a pianist pretending to be fastidious about concord in music! Why, the instrument at its best is a bundle of discords." Both of these musicians were guilty of affectation; for, although the piano's chords are slightly dissonant, the intervals of the chromatic scale are made the same by the violin-player as by the pianist. What right, then, has the former to complain? To be sure, the violinist _can_ make his intervals absolutely correct: he _can_ play the enharmonic scale, which one using any of the instruments with fixed notes cannot do. But does he, practically? Does he not also make the same note for C sharp and D flat? The violinist mentioned of course alluded to the process called _equal temperament_, by which piano-makers, to avoid an impracticable extent of keyboard, divide the scale into eleven notes at equal intervals, each one being the twelfth root of 2, or 1.05946. This destroys the distinction between the semitones, and C sharp and D flat become the same note. Scientists show us that they are different notes, easily distinguished by the ear. Representing the vibrations for C as 1, we shall have-- C C# Db D D# Eb E, etc. 1 25/24 27/24 8/9 75/64 6/5 5/4, etc. each note being increased by one twenty-fourth of itself, or in absolute vibrations-- C C# Db D D# Eb E, etc. 261 271 271 293 305 303 326, etc. This is the enharmonic scale, having twenty-one notes. The chromatic has eleven, and the name--it may be remarked in passing--is from the Greek word for "color" ([Greek: chroma]) because the old composers wrote these notes in colors, and had them so printed. Not a bad idea, surely: many a learner on the piano would be overjoyed to see all the ugly flats and sharps on the staff in brilliant holiday dress. There is no reason at this day, when science in all fields is making such progress, why the ordinary music-teacher should have so limited a knowledge of his subject. He should be able to explain the fundamental principles of the different scales upon the theory of vibration, and to so educate the apprehension of his pupils that they will not be content with the imperfect catechisms of the music-books in vogue. And with the adoption of a rational system of writing music, which will reduce the time and labor of learning it to one half, there will be time for the niceties of a science of such vast importance to the culture--and, indirectly, to the moral progress--of the world. MARIE HOWLAND. SAMBO: A MAN AND A BROTHER. "But," I said eagerly, "you do not deny that slavery was a curse to the country--to Southerners most of all?"