imperfectly—no satisfaction is given to a single soul of the commonest musical notions—and no real progress whatever is made. In short, when once the unhappy Amateur abandons himself exclusively to _execution_—it is all over with him! It is impossible to build without the frequent use of the ladder. The _scales_ are the ladders of music; and, without constant and diligent recourse to them, there is no true edification—no reaching to “perfection’s airiest ridge.” Slowly and cautiously must they be ascended and descended, at first, till the acquisition of a firm hold, and a nice habit of measurement; then comes the dexterity that enables the practitioner to run up and down with a safe celerity of precision, such as the curious beholder may witness in the movements of those Hibernian hod-iernal ministrants of mortar, who are so powerfully instrumental towards the construction of houses. Let not the young Amateur, then, be diverted from the practice of his _scales_, which are the regular steps to improvement. Let him not commit the error of jumping about among those broken and irregular _flights_, consisting of bits of airs, and snatches of tunes. These will not help to raise the musical edifice; and the _expectations_ which they may assist to build, will prove mere castles in the air. The dryness and sameness of the labour are apt to be alleged as the excuse for omitting this essential practice of the scales and intervals; while the love of melody is pleaded in behalf of the more eccentric course. Now, what should be desiderated for the student is, not to love _melody_ less, but _improvement_ more. He should not, by reason of the tedium experienced in working at the scales, cast them aside—for, while he perseveres, on the contrary, in daily exercise upon them, are there not the immortal Solos of Corelli, to furnish him with all that is needful of the recreative principle? Here he will find refreshment enough, after the perhaps fatiguing iteration of the ladder-work. Here, in connexion with passages that will form his hand—here, along with modulation not dull and crabbed, but graceful and natural—he will find enough of _melody_ to sweeten his toil, without impairing it—to cheer his progress, without retarding it. Here he will find fascination for his ear, with no corruption for his taste— “Airs and sweet sounds, that give delight, and _hurt not_.” Yes, when the tyro, tired, makes yawning complaint of the want of encouragement, we would point to the Solos of Corelli, and say to him, _Hæc tibi dulcia sunto_—let _these_ be unto thee for sweet-meats.