The lamps were lighted in the drawing-room. Hagar was seated at her piano, practising a piece of new music. She was attired with taste and elegance in a crimson satin, that the coolness of the evening rendered appropriate at this season. Her hair was gemmed and braided so that the long ringlets held away from her cheeks and brow fell behind. In the first months of their marriage it had been Raymond’s pleasure to have her elegantly attired to receive him in the evening, and of late, it had grown into a habit and a necessity to herself. She sat now awaiting him. Presently he entered softly, and she arose, sprung, and then, with a sudden thought, controlled her eagerness, and went quietly to meet him. When he had saluted her, and they were seated, she blushingly unrolled a piece of manuscript music, and said, “See here, dear Raymond! I have got something here for you, something that you will like, something that you will glory in. I did not know until to-day that I could compose music; did not even suspect that I could; but to-day my soul has been so full of music, so bursting with music, that it has found expression! The hallelujahs of Christopher Smart, the very poet of worship, were resounding through my spirit ears; I wished to sing them, _had_ to sing them. I came down here, and seating myself before the piano, struck the keys, and in a fit of inspiration, set them to music—here is the music. I could not do it again; and now the music is infinitely inferior to the words. Oh! the words are sublime—a splendid pageant—a magnificent march of grand and gorgeous imagery, that nothing but an intellect inspired by love, and exalted by worship to a power of conception and expression that men call insanity, could have produced. They called _him_ mad! and shut him up in the narrow cell of a lunatic asylum, debarring him the use of books, pens, and ink; but even there the jubilant soul found expression. With a rusty nail upon the white-washed walls of his cell, he wrote his glorious ‘Song of David,’ worthy to be bound up with the psalms of David. It is from this song that I have taken out these words that I have set to music. Oh! how I wish some great master would set them. Hear my attempt, Raymond, and worship with me through the words.” She went and seated herself at the piano. He followed and stood leaning over her chair. She played an inspiring prelude, and then her voice broke forth in sudden rapture that filled with volume as it soared, until the very atmosphere seemed inspired with life, became sentient and vocal, and shuddered with the burden of the grand harmony it bore! Glorious the sun in mid-career; Glorious the assembled fires appear; Glorious the comet’s train: Glorious the trumpet and alarm; Glorious the Almighty’s stretched-out arm; Glorious the enraptured main: