PETERSFIELD. THE MUSIC AT PETERSFIELD CHURCH.
To the editor of the West Sussex Gazette.
‟Not to the strains, how ’ere the words be sung.
God seeks not splendid music from the tongue.”

     When we look back upon some once valued object through the ever-moving panorama of life, we are apt to compare the past with the present, in a manner anything but complementary to the good old days. When the grinder flourished unmolested in the church, its discordant grumblings might have been contentedly received as harmonious variations: but since the inhabitants of the town have had the pleasure of listening to music which is certainly worthy of the highest praise, the grinder is very properly consigned to oblivion. Possibly your travelling correspondent looks now at the church music of Petersfield through the medium of the choristers of Strasburg or Cologne. He goes away grumbling at the grinder; but reminds us of the old woman who grumbled at the wind going to church, and prayed it would change before her return; he comes again and things are changed, and like her he grumbles when he goes back; the nuisance is as great as it was six years ago. Unhappy human nature! Unhappy that in England this propensity to grumble is undoubtedly an hereditary disease. Deprive John Bull of the power of grumbling, and you deprive him of the most valued privilege of the press. Fortunately ‟Veritas” has informed us he is no musician, or we might have doubted the absence of venom from his pen. That the music is good, that there are voices that would not disgrace the orchestra of Costa himself, no one who has heard good music can deny. But alas! it is true there is room for vast improvement, not in the music, not In the voices, but In the education of the singers. If some of the musicians of Petersfield would cultivate the talent at their command, the sensitive ears of ‟Veritas” need never be again offended. I have listened to the music of Westminster Abbey till the melodious cadences have carried with them a rapture of delight; with no less pleasure have I heard the breathings of some favourite hymn from the little gallery of Petersfield church.

     Your correspondent suggests the erection of a statue. I propose, without calling much on the ever open purses of the inhabitants of Petersfield, to convert the present statue into one that shall enoble the man who will train our singers, and if he wills it, we stick up ‟Veritas” behind, as the agitator of the change. 

Yours truly,
A FREQUENT VISITOR.