Part 18

VI. O good God! is this the sort of music, which expressed from the breast of the great Austin, while he was still wavering between God and the world, sighs of compunction, and tears of piety? _Oh how I wept_, said the saint, addressing himself to God in his confessions, _moved and excited, by the salutary hymns and canticles of thy church! Those words and sounds, made a lively impression on my ears, and through them, thy truths penetrated my mind. My heart burned with affection, and my eyes melted in tears._ This was the effect of the church music of those times; which, like the lyre of David, expelled the evil spirit, that had not quite forsaken the possession of St. Austin, and invoked the good one; the music of these times expels the good one, if such resides, and invites the evil one. The ecclesiastical chant of those days, was like the sound of the trumpets of Joshua, which threw down the walls of Jericho, that is, the passions which fortify the strong town of Vice. The chant of the present times, resembles the songs of the Syrens, which lead navigators on rocks and shoals.

SECT. III.

VII. How much better was the church with the plain chant, the only one known in it for many ages, and which, for the most part, was composed by the monks of St. Benedict, who were the greatest masters in the world at that time, among whom, should be first reckoned Gregory the Great, and the celebrated Guido Aretinus; after them came John Murs, a doctor of the Sorbonne, who invented the notes, which mark the various duration of the points; and truly, the simplicity of that chant, was not deficient in melodies, capable of moving the passions, and sweetly suspending the hearers. The compositions of Guido Aretinus were reckoned so pathetic, that cardinal Baronius tells us, that, in the year 1022, pope Gregory VIII. sent for him from his convent of Arezzo, and would not let him depart his presence, till he had taught him to sing a short verse of his Antiphonario. This was the person who invented the modern system of music, or artificial progression, which is now used, and called the scale of Guido Aretinus. He also contrived the harmonious combination of voices, in different tones; which art, was in all probability known to the antients, but all traces of it were then lost.

VIII. The plain chant, executed with proper pauses, has a peculiar excellence for the use of churches, which is, that being incapable of exciting such affections as are raised by theatrical music, it necessarily follows, that it must be the best adapted to induce such as are proper for the church. Who, by the sonorous majesty of the hymn _Vexilla Regis_, by the festive gravity of the _Pange Lingua_, by the mournful tenderness of the _Invitatorio de Difuntos_, would not feel himself excited to veneration, devotion, and contrition? We hear these chants every day, notwithstanding which, they always seem pleasing; when at the same time, after half a dozen repetitions, modern compositions grow tiresome and unsavoury to us.

IX. I would not however, on this account, quarrel with the figured, or, as it is commonly called, the organ chant; as I am sensible, it has great advantages over the plain; because it preserves and marks the accents on the words, which in the plain chant is impossible; and because the different duration of the points, produce to the ear that agreeable effect, which is caused to the sight, by a well-proportioned inequality of colours. It is only the abuse that has been introduced in the organ chant, which makes me prefer the plain one; and am in this respect, like a man who anxiously covets plain food, and avoids the more delicate, when he knows it is corrupted.

SECT. IV.

X. What good-disposed ears can, in sacred chants, endure those enormous breaks, and lascivious inflections, which offend against the rules of decency, and are contrary to those of music? I speak of those flights and wanderings, which seem as if they had been studied, and which the voice takes by straying from the subject of the melody; of those languishing falls from one point to another, that run not only through the semi-tone, but also through all the intermediate comas, and are transitions, which are not contained in art, nor does Nature allow them.

XI. Experience shews, that the changes which the voice makes in the chant, by running through small intervals (such passages containing in themselves a degree of effeminate softness, if not a lascivious tendency), are apt to produce in the minds of hearers, an effect, correspondent to such sort of ideas, and impress on the fancy certain confused images, which represent nothing good. On this account, many of the antients, and particularly the Lacedæmonians, reprobated as pernicious to youth, the sort of music called Chromatic, which by the introduction of B-flatts, and sostenutos, divides the octave into smaller intervals than the natural ones. Hear what Cicero says of this: _Chromaticum creditur repudiatum pridem fuisse genus, quod adolescentum remolesccrent eo genere animi; Lacedæmones improbasse ferentur. (Lib. 1. Tuscul. Quæst.)_ It may be supposed, they would have found more reason for prohibiting the Enharmonic also; which, by the addition of more flats and sostenutos, and by being joined to the two other sorts, the Diatonic and Chromatic, which must necessarily precede it, and by making the interval less still, divides the octave into a greater number of points: in consequence of which combination (the voice, by sometimes deviating from the natural point, through spaces which are yet shorter, that is to say, the minor semi-tones) there results a music, more soft and effeminate than the Chromatic.

XII. Is it not much to be lamented, that the Christians don’t use the same precaution the antients did, to prevent music from perverting the manners of youth? But we are so far from doing this, that already no music is allowed to be good, in which there is not introduced at every turn, both in the human voice, and in the instruments, points, which they call foreign, and which pass through all parts of the diapason, from the natural point to the accidental one; and this is the mode. There is no doubt but these transitions, managed with moderation, art and genius, produce an admirable effect; because they mark the expression of the words with more vivacity and spirit, than the pure diatonic progressions; and there results from so contriving things, a more delicate and expressive music. But the composers who are capable of doing this, are very few, and those few are the occasion of an infinite number of others losing and exposing themselves; who, by endeavouring to imitate them, for want of talents and address to manage the business, fail in the attempt, and form with their foreign introductions, a ridiculous music, which sometimes is insipid, and at others harsh; and when they mistake the least, there results from their labours, an unmeaning softness, and lascivious delicacy, which has no good effect on the mind, because there is no expression in it, capable of exciting any noble emotion. If, notwithstanding all that is objected to it, composers are desirous such music should go down, because it is the fashion, let them apply it to the use of the theatres and concert rooms; but don’t let them introduce it into the churches, as fashions were never contrived or calculated for them; and if the divine offices do not admit of change of modes, either in vestments or rites, why should they be admitted in musical compositions?

XIII. The case is, that this change of modes, contains at the bottom a certain venom, which Cicero gives an admirable description of; for he remarks, that in Greece, with the same pace manners declined towards corruption, music declined from its antient majesty, towards an affected softness; either because an effeminate music corrupted the integrity of men’s minds, or because a vitiated and depraved music debauches their taste, and inclines them to relish those bastard melodies, which, as symbols of, are best suited to their perverted manners: _Civitatumque hoc multarum in Græcia interfuit, antiquum vocum servare modum: quarum mores lapsi, ad mollitiem pariter sunt immutati in cantibus; aut hac dulcedine, corruptelaque depraviti, ut quidam putant: aut cum severitas morum ob olia vitia cecidisset, tum fuit in auribus, animisque mutatis etiam huic mutationi locus._ (Lib. 2. de Legibus.) So that the taste for this effeminate music, is the effect or cause of some relaxation in the mind. I would not however be understood to say, that all those who have a taste for such music, are tainted with this defect. Many of strict and incorruptible virtue, whom no vitiated music can warp, seem to approve it; but they in general do this, because they hear it is the fashion: and even many, though in reality they do not relish it, are led to say they do, only because they would not be looked upon as people wedded to, and prejudiced in favour of antiquated customs, and as persons, who are not possessed of faculties, capable of relishing the fine taste of the moderns.

SECT. V.

XIV. I am ready however to confess, that there have lately been published some excellent compositions, both with respect to the pleasing elegance of their taste, and the subtilty of the art displayed in them; but by way of contrast to these, which are very rare, an innumerable quantity of others have been produced, that to the ears are insufferable. This arises, partly from people undertaking to compose, who are not capable of doing it; and partly from ordinary composers pretending to take licences, which should only be attempted by great masters.

XV. It fares with music at this time, as it fares with surgery. In the same manner, that every blood letter of middling ability, takes upon him the name and occupation of a surgeon, every organist and violin player, of reasonable dexterity, sets himself up for a composer. This they can do, with little difficulty or labour, for they have only to get by heart, the general rules of consonance and dissonance; and then, from the numberless manuscripts, or printed violin sonatas with which the world abounds, take the first light air which occurs, or seems pleasing to them, and apply the tone of that air to the words; and as the voice proceeds, they, by those general rules, go on covering it with a dry accompanyment, which contains neither imitation nor excellence; and between the pauses of the voice, they may introduce a burst of violins for ten or a dozen bars, more or less, provided that is the stile of the sonata from whence they made the theft. If they would content themselves with doing no more than this, we might be brought to endure their productions: but the worst of the evil is, that from an affectation of being thought superior to trivial composition, they introduce false concords, without preparing, or being able to resolve them, and by that means, make terrible blemishes, and commit faults, that are inexcusable; and because also, they see some illustrious composers, dispense with the common rules, and take liberties, such as writing two-fifths, or two octaves immediately following each other, which they do only for the sake of introducing a good passage, or to attain some excellence of harmony, and which, without taking such a liberty, they could not have effected: and although these never take such a latitude, but under particular circumstances, and subject to certain limitations; the others have the audacity to attempt it, out of time, and when it can answer no purpose whatever; by which means, they are thrown to the ground with such violence, that the stroke of their fall is shocking to the ear.

XVI. Middling composers, although, by endeavouring to tread in the steps of the excellent ones, they do not fall into such gross errors, generally form a music, which at some times is lifeless, and at others turgid. This is occasioned by their introducing accidentals, and changing the keys in the same piece; which method, if practised by great masters, who used it seasonably and opportunely, not only gives a greater sweetness to the music, but communicates to the words, a more striking impression, than they of themselves, without this assistance, could convey or produce. Some strangers had a happy talent at doing this; but no one understood it better, than our Don Antonio de Literes, a composer of the first rate, and who is perhaps the only one, who knows how to unite all the majesty and sweetness of the antient music, with the bustle and hurry of the modern; but in the management of the accidental points, he has a singular address, for almost every time he introduces them, they give an energy to the music, which is correspondent to, and strengthens the signification of the words they fall on. To do this, requires both genius and science, but much more genius than science. From this deficiency in point of genius, we find masters in Spain, of great knowledge and comprehension, who were not so happy as to succeed in this way; so that, although in their compositions we admire the subtilty of their art, their works do not obtain the approbation of our ears.

XVII. Those who are unassisted by genius, and who, on the other hand, do not possess more than a moderate knowledge of music, make false concordances, introduce accidentals, and change the keys, because doing so is the fashion; and because they are fond of having it thought, they know how to manufacture these sort of airs; although, in reality, they seldom produce any air at all; and notwithstanding their compositions are conformable to the common rules, still they are unsavoury, and disagreeable; and when they are performed in the church, instead of producing that sweet calm, and inward composure which are requisite to devotion, they excite perturbations in the hearts of the hearers.

XVIII. Between the first and second of these, there comes in another sort of composers, who, though in point of abilities, are above mediocrity, they for sacred compositions are the worst of all. These are they, who sport with, and run the changes, upon all the delicacies music is capable of; but dispose them in such a manner, that the melody produced, has the sound of pantomime airs. All the irregularities they practise, either in false concordances, or accidentals, are introduced as graces, but graces very different from those recommended by St. Paul in his Epistle to the Colossians: _Ingratia cantantes in cordibus vestris Deo_: instead of such; they are graces of banter, and harmonies of indecency; and are a sort of passages, the best of which, the musicians themselves call childish and apish. Are such proper for the church? Let them, in God’s name, be sent to the courts of the comedies, and the halls of the dance. But is it not an impious abuse, to introduce into the house of God, things which are trifling, apish and indecent? And is not the blending them with divine worship, an abominable error?

XIX. Is not this attempting to banish from music, all enlivening chearfulness, except that which savours of the puerile and buffoon? Music may be exceedingly chearful, and at the same time, impregnated with a majestic gravity, capable of exciting in the hearers, affections of respect and devotion: or, to speak more properly, the most chearful and delectable music of all, is that which induces a sweet tranquillity in the soul; collecting it within itself, and let us say, elevating it with a kind of extatic rapture, superior to the body it is attached to; that the mind may take a flight, towards the mansions of bliss, and contemplate divine things in a nearer point of view. This is the sort of chearful music, which St. Austin approved as useful in churches, and which he treated St. Athanasius with excessive severity for having objected to; because its proper effect, is elevating those hearts to noble affections, which are oppressed and weighed down with earthly inclinations: _Ut per hæc oblectamenta aurium infirmior animus in affectum pietatis assurgat._ (Lib. 10. Confess. cap. 32.)

XX. It is true, that the masters capable of forming this noble kind of melody, are very few; but those who can’t attain this degree of perfection, should content themselves with doing something less; taking care however, that their compositions should tend to excite such dispositions, as are suitable to divine offices; or at least being careful, that they should not conduce to promote inclinations of an opposite nature; and at all events, although it should be at the hazard of disobliging the multitude, to shun those skittish sort of airs, which have a certain occult relation to forbidden affections; but of the two evils into which church music is in danger of falling, that of its being offensive to the ears, is a less mischief, than that of its being an incentive to vice.

XXI. The power of music to stir the passions, and raise in the minds of men, dispositions to virtue or vice, is very well known. It is related of Pythagoras, that, having by music adapted to produce such an effect, inflamed the heart of a certain youth to a dishonourable amour, he afterwards, by changing the tone, reduced him to the dominion of continence. It is also related of Timotheus, a musician of Alexander the Great, that he could irritate the martial fury of that prince to such a degree, that he would seize on his arms, and put himself in an attitude, as if his enemies were in front, and he on the point of charging them. This effect, however, was the less surprising, because the natural disposition of the prince, conspired to assist the skill of the artist. Some add, that after having enraged, he calmed him; and caused Alexander, who never turned his back on any danger, to become a fugitive from his own rage. But what is told of the power of another musician, which was exercised on Henry II. King of Denmark, called the Good, is more extraordinary than all this; for it is said, that by a movement and touch, calculated to excite choler, he inflamed the rage of that prince to such a degree, that he fell upon, and put to death, three or four of his domestics, and would have carried the havoc and devastation still further, if he had not been restrained by violence. This was the more wonderful, because the king’s natural disposition, was gentle and peaceable.

XXII. I don’t imagine the musicians of these times can perform such miracles, neither perhaps did the antient ones; for these histories are not extracted from Holy Writ. It is however certain, that music, according as the melody is varied, induces in the mind a variety of dispositions, some good, others bad. With one we find ourselves moved to sorrow, with another to mirth; with one to clemency, with another to blood; with one to fortitude, with another to pusillanimity; and so on with respect to other inclinations.

XXIII. There is no doubt of the justness of this remark; neither is there any, that a master, who composes for the church, should dispose the music in such a way, and write it in such a stile, as is best calculated to promote the spiritual welfare of souls; and to sustain the majesty, decorum, and solemnity of divine worship. St. Thomas, touching upon this point, says, the chant was a salutary institution in the church, because it excited sickly souls, that is, such as were weak in spirit, to devotion. But, alas! what would the saint say, if he was to hear in the church some of the airs of these times, which, so far from fortifying the sick, enfeeble the healthy; which, instead of promoting devotion in the breast, banish it from the soul; and instead of elevating the mind to pious reflections, bring to the memory forbidden things? I repeat it again, that it is an obligation on musicians, and a very serious one, to correct this abuse.

XXIV. Truly, when I reflect on the serious turn of mind for which Spaniards heretofore were remarkable, I can’t help being struck with amazement, to find at present, that we can relish no other but puppet-shew music. This looks as if the celebrated Spanish gravity, was reduced to nothing more, than stalking stiff and erect up and down the street. The Italians, by means of the false flattering insinuation, that music has been improved of late days, have made us the slaves of their taste. I, for my own part, believe what they call improvement, to be ruin and destruction, or something very near it. All intellectual arts, of whose excellencies, the understanding and the taste, cloathed with an equal degree of authority are judges, have their points, or zenith of perfection, which when they are once arrived at, he who attempts to advance them, commonly occasions their decline, and puts them in a train, which leads to their destruction.

XXV. It will perhaps, with respect to the science of music, happen to Italy very soon, if it has not happened there already, just as it happened to it with regard to the Latin language, oratory, and poetry. These faculties, in the age of Augustus, arrived to that state of propriety, beauty, elegance, and natural energy, in which their true perfection consisted. Those who succeeded to that age, pretended, by the violent introduction of improper ornaments, to refine them; by doing which, they precipitated them from Nature to affectation, and from thence they afterwards fell into barbarism. The poets who succeeded Virgil, and the orators who succeeded Cicero, were thoroughly persuaded in themselves, that they had given new graces, and new excellencies to the two arts; but the keen Petronius Arbiter, after upbraiding them with their ridiculous and pompous affectation, told them very plainly, what in reality they had done: _Vos primi omnium eloquentiam perdidistis._

SECT. VII.

XXVI. To see whether the music of these times suffers the same shipwreck, which the before-named sciences underwent; let us examine, in what the music, which is now practised, differs from that of the antecedent age. The first and most remarkable distinction which occurs, is the diminution of the figures. The shortest points which were formerly known, were demi-semi quavers; and with them, it was imagined, they had given to the execution of the chant, and the instruments, as great a degree of velocity, as without doing violence to both, they were capable of attaining. This did not seem sufficient, and a little while afterwards, they invented dividing the demi-semi quavers into thirds, by which means, the movement became one part in three quicker than it was before. The extravagance of composers did not stop here, for they doubled the demi-semi quavers, and made a movement, that, for its rapidity, seems to have gone beyond the reach of imagination, which can scarce conceive, how it is possible, in the compass of a bar, to articulate or express sixty-four points. I don’t know whether before this age, any double demi-semi quavers ever appeared figured in any composition; except it was in the song of the Risuenor, which father Kircher, in the middle of the last century, caused to be printed, in the first book of his _Musurgia Universalis_; and I am even inclined to think, that solfa savours of the hyperbolic; for it is not easy to persuade me, that that bird, with all his agility and flexibility of throat, could articulate sixty-four points, in the space of raising and falling the hand, within the compass of regular time.