THE METHODIST

NEW CONNEXION MAGAZINE.

SEPTEMBER, 1858.

ESSAYS, &c., ON THEOLOGY AND GENERAL LITERATURE.

CHURCH MUSIC.-No. II.

ITS PRESENT STATE AND PROPER STANDARD.

A FORMER article on sacred music having, as the writer has reason to believe, been favourably received, he is encouraged in the purpose therein expressed, of offering a brief notice of its present state and proper standard.

The era of improved or modern music may be said to date from the middle of the sixteenth century, the period at which the Guidonian system of notation now in use was finally settled. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth the music of the church, according to the uniform testimony of every class, was quite superior to the secular music of the country, and fully equal to the music of any other nation. Strype relates that when Elizabeth was entertained at Canterbury by Archbishop Parker, the French ambassador, who was in her company, hearing the music of the Cathedral, extolled it most highly, declaring that he thought "no prince in all Europe, not even the Pope, ever heard the like." This opinion is confirmed by Dr. Burney, the most celebrated historian of music, notwithstanding his predilection for secular music: "Till the Reformation," says he, "little other music was known or practised than that of the church." "Among ecclesiastics the best singer was esteemed the most learned man." (!) "Till the beginning of the fifteenth century all our secular music had perished. However, if we may judge from what has escaped the ravages of time of a later date, the loss of our musical compositions of this period may be supported without much affliction." Again, "When Queen Elizabeth ascended the throne a school of counterpoint was formed in England, that was equal at least to that of any other part of Europe." "We can produce such proofs of great abilities in the compositions of our countrymen, as candid judges must allow to abound in every kind of excellence that was then known or expected." "I have been able to find, in all my researches, no choral compositions in other parts of Europe, of equal antiquity, superior to those which have been preserved of Tallis and Bird, the pride of our country, and honour of their profession."

Of the pieces of some of the great musicians of that day composed for instruments, Doctor Burney remarks, "If her majesty was ever

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able to execute any of the pieces that are preserved in a manuscript that goes under the name of Queen Elizabeth's Virginal Book, she must have been a very great player; as some of the pieces which were composed by Tallis, Bird, Giles, Farnaby, Dr. Bull, and others, are so difficult that it would be hardly possible to find a master in Europe who would undertake to play one of them at the end of a month's practice."

It is common to suppose that the secular music of the Italians has been pre-eminent in excellence. Yet in music, as in painting, the noblest compositions of the great masters in Italy have been offerings to the church. Throughout Europe secular music has been equally dependent upon sacred until a late period. There was indeed one species of sacred music which seems to have been brought to a very high degree of perfection in Italy, and that was, the more complicated and scientific kind. Hence, Burney remarks that while the Cathedral service of England, "by the diligence of Dr. Tye, Tallis, Bird, Morley, and others, was brought to a pitch of perfection which was hardly surpassed by that of Italy itself, the Italians had but little rhythm or melody in their [secular] music." "The melodies of all the rest of Europe (except England) had no other model than the chants of the church."

When Burney speaks here of the "Cathedral service" of England being hardly surpassed by that of Italy itself, it must be considered that this comparison leaves out of view the metrical psalmody of the Church of England, which was even then a most important and effective part of divine worship. So early as the reign of the youthful prince, Edward the Sixth, by the skill of Dr. Tye, who was musical preceptor to his royal master, and who was, on the testimony of Dr. Burney, "as great a musician as Europe could then boast," this most delightful part of congregational worship was brought to a high degree of perfection. And how effectively has this branch of sacred music been cultivated and continued till our day! Who can estimate the vast service it has performed to the church! What adult since the time of Doctor Watts has not exclaimed in the language of one of the divine songs for children,

"Lord, how delightful 'tis to see

A whole assembly worship thee!"

Referring to the Book of Common Prayer, it will be seen that many parts of the morning and evening prayer, and of the communion service, were appointed to be said or sung. The rescripts ordaining this were issued immediately after the Reformation. To facilitate the singing of those parts of the service, as well as the Psalms in metre, books for the use of congregations were published so early as the days of Cranmer and the reign of Elizabeth, "containing apt notes, wherewithal to sing the chants and Psalms."

This would seem to indicate a higher degree of proficiency in vocal music than the congregations of that age might be supposed to possess. Musical notation has been since much simplified by improvement of the Guidonian system. But certainly books of musical notes would be of little use to most congregations at the present day, when perhaps not one in forty or fifty can read the simplest line of a congregational tune at first sight. It is indeed possible, and not at all improbable, that the books of notes which were set forth in the sixteenth century may have

been abandoned for two reasons: first, because the people could not make adequate use of them, and secondly, because of the introduction of new tunes, which are now set forth in books by themselves, unconnected with collections of hymns. The choice of hymns is now greatly more varied; for the joint labours of eminent Christian poets, "sweet singers of Israel," have contributed much to the service of the sanctuary. But although congregational psalmody has doubtless been improved since the era of the Reformation, it must be acknowledged that secular music has, in like manner, greatly advanced; nor is the latter so decidedly inferior to the former as it was up to the latter part of the seventeenth century. With this admission, however, there is no reason why sacred music should not still maintain its ascendancy. It is greatly more ennobling in spirit and character. The organ, which is the great ecclesiastical instrument, enables three or four persons to produce better music for variety, and power, and all other excellences, than can be made by any other instruments and thirty or forty singers. The diapasons of an organ, if they could speak in articulate words, as is said by an eloquent divine, "would utter any text in the Bible with dignity and reverence." It must be observed that we speak of good organs, organs that are well tuned, and possessing a due gradation, as well as sweetness of sound,-such as those which we have heard in the Temple Church, and in St. Paul's Cathedral, and which were built near two hundred years ago.

Although in some respects the two instruments mentioned cannot perhaps be surpassed in the present day, there are parts pertaining to the mechanism of an organ, such as the perfecting of recently-invented stops, which afford opportunities for the application of skill. And it is an encouraging feature in the present state of sacred music that much attention is given by organ-builders, scientific organists, and connoisseurs, to the improvement of organs in those points where absolute perfection is not yet attained. Nor are these desired improvements deemed unworthy of the attention of learned men and grave divines. Our esteemed friend, the late Bishop Wainwright, of New York, whose chaste metrical compositions in music will not soon be forgotten, gave much attention to the proper structure of the organ. An organist himself, he had instruments of different sizes and power set up in his own house. We are ourselves indebted to him for valuable hints and criticisms. It is not easy to forget the devotional aspect of this excellent prelate while the praises of God were chanted in the sanctuary. He was not a listless or silent spectator while the congregation were engaged in this high act of homage; he took part with them: and his expressive countenance and devout attitude at once evinced his earnestness, and afforded an example and encouragement to others in devotion. Sacred harmony was the joy of his soul, his rest from toil, and the solace of his leisure. But did he, therefore, neglect his duties as a parish priest, or, afterwards, in the episcopate? It might almost be said of him that "in labours he was more abundant than them all." He was a martyr to the almost Herculean labours of his diocese, being unwilling to indulge himself with necessary respite from his visitations "He and travels during the excessive heat of an American summer. was a good man and full of the Holy Ghost;" and his tuneful soul learned something of the lofty employments of heaven before he got there.

Apologizing for this digression, we proceed to offer some remarks on the proper standard of sacred music.

An analogy may be traced between music and others of the fine arts, as rhetoric, painting, and sculpture; and it will also be seen that it has an intimate connection with poetry.

It is a mistake to suppose that the only object of vocal music is to give effect to words sung, and thus to add force to language. Music is in itself a perfect science and an independent art. It has a language of its own, considered without regard to forms of speech; not merely in reference to its nomenclature as a science, and its vocabulary as an art, but in its own method of expressing sentiments and emotions, and of associating ideas. If it be so, music may well be compared with rhetoric, as we will endeavour to show.

It may be difficult to trace this analogy so as to render it perfectly clear to the general reader without some little thought and attention on his part. One of the most eminent writers upon the "nature and principles of taste," the Rev. Mr. Alison, prebendary of Sarum, has given an erroneous view of this analogy, while confessedly "speaking with great diffidence of an art of which he had no theoretical knowledge." It is of music concerning which he disclaims all theoretical knowledge, and his mistake may be turned to account for our illustration. He says:

"What thought is to the arrangement of words, the key, or the fundamental tone is to the arrangement of sounds; and as the one constitutes a whole in language, by establishing a certain and definite idea to which all the words in a sentence bear a relation, so the other constitutes a whole in music, by establishing a definite and leading sound, to which all the other sounds in the series bear a similar relation."

Those of our readers who have only a slight knowledge of the general principles of musical composition will be apt to smile at the error of this elegant writer. Strictly speaking, there are only two key or fundamental tones to all musical strains-the major and the minor; 'but even if we allow to the learned writer a key for each semitone in the octave, the limit will be too deficient for variety. It is true that the arrangement of words in a sentence depends somewhat upon the thought of the writer, or on a definite idea to which the words bear a relation. It is also true that the arrangement of notes in a strain depends somewhat upon the key-note, to which, of course, the other notes bear a relation. But the key-note is not, in consequence, analogous to thought. There is thought in music, as in language; and every strain of good music has an idea, to which all the notes bear a relation, just as all the words in a well-constructed sentence have relation to the thought which they conjointly express. It is, indeed, somewhat affected by the general distinction to which we have already alluded, between the major and the minor modes, as respectively adapted to jubilant and plaintive strains. But musical thought does not, in any case, depend upon a single note or tone, than which nothing can be more unmeaning; it depends on combinations of notes, just as in language the thought expressed by a writer depends, not upon any single word, but upon the several words which make up a sentence. Moreover, the combinations of notes in strains, like the combinations of words in sentences, are illimitable and exhaustless. They may, therefore, be varied interminably without any change of the key-note,