HE Art of Music 
 
 HUBERT H.PARRmik 
 
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MUSIC LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 BERKELEY 
 
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 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
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 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/artofmusicOOparrrich 
 
THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 C. HUBERT H. PARRY, M.A. Oxon. 
 
 MUS. DOC. OXON., CANTAB., ANU DUBLIN 
 
 LONDON 
 KECxAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER, & CO. L 
 
 PATERNOSTER HOUSE, CHARING CROSS ROAD 
 1893 
 
^^^iC LIBRARY 
 
 UN/VERSnV 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 BERKELEY 
 
 Music Library 
 
 T/id rights of tramldtion and of reproduction are reserved. 
 

 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAFIER I. 
 
 PRELIMINARIES. 
 
 The artistic disposition — Susceptibility and impulse towards ex- 
 pression — Music in the rough, in animals, in savages — Design 
 essential — Expressive cries and expressive gestures leading 
 to song and dancing — Melody and rhythm — The art based 
 upon contrasts — Nervous exhaustion and its influence on the 
 art — Tension and relaxation — Organisation .... 
 
 ,CHAPTER II. 
 
 SCALES. 
 
 Definite relations of pitch indispensable — Slow development of 
 scales— Slender beginnings — Practicable intervals— Scales 
 variable in accordance with the purposes for which they 
 are wanted — Melodic scales — Heptatonic and pentatonic — 
 Ancient Greek system — Modes— Persian system — Subtle or- 
 ganisation — Indian system — Modes and ragas — Chinese 
 system — Japanese — Javese — Siamese — Bagpipe scale — Be- 
 ginnings of modern European system — Classification of notes 
 of scale — Temperament 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FOLK-MUSIC. 
 
 Music of savages — First efforts in the direction of design— Ele 
 mentary types — Keitoration of phrases— Sequences — Tonality 
 — Ornament — Pattern tunes — Universality of certain types 
 of design — Racial characteristics — Expressioan dn design — 
 Highest forms — Decline of genuine folk-music ... 15 
 
 228 
 
vl CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 INCIPIENT HARMONY. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Music and religion — Music of early Christian Church — Doubling 
 melodies — Organum or diaphony — Counterpoint or descant — 
 Singing several tunes at once — Motets — -Influence of diaphony 
 — Canons — Cadences — Indefiniteness of early artistic Music — 
 Influence of the Church SS 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PURE CHORAL MUSIC. 
 
 Universality of choral music — Aiming at beauty of choral effect 
 — Contrapuntal effect— Harmonic effect— Secular forms of 
 choral music — Madrigals— Influence of modes — Accidentals 
 — Early experiments in instrumental music — Imitations 
 of choral forms — Viols — Lutes — Harpsichords — Organ— 
 Methods— Homogeneity 112 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 
 
 Reforming idealists — First experiments in opera, oratorio, and 
 cantata — Recitative — Beginnings indefinite — Expression — 
 Tendency towards definition — Melody — Arias — Realism — 
 Tendency of instrumental music towards independence . 137 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 COMBINATION OF OLD METHODS AND NEW 
 PRINCIPLES. 
 
 Renewed cultivation of contrapuntal methods — Influence of 
 Italian taste and style upon Handel— His operas— His ora- 
 torios — J. S. Bach — Influences which formed his musical 
 character — Difference of Italian and Teutonic attitudes to- 
 wards music — Instrumentation — Choral effect — Italian 
 oratorio — Passion music — Public career of Handel — Bach's 
 isolation — Ultimate influence of their work .... 
 
CONTENTS. vii 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Early instrumental music contrapuntal — Fugue — Organ music — 
 Orchestral music — Harpsichord and clavichord — Suites and 
 partitas — "Das wohltemperirte Clavier" — Unique position 
 of J. S. Bach in instrumental music 191 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 BEGINNINGS OF MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 
 
 Systematisation of harmony — The early Italian violinists — Distribu- 
 tion of contrasted types of movements in groups— Violin 
 sonatas — Harpsichord sonatas — Operatic influence — Overture 
 and sinfonia 211 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA. 
 
 Formality of the opera seria — Intermezzos— Comic features — 
 Stj-le — Gluck and expression — Piccini — Mozart — Italian in- 
 fluence — Idomeneo — Instrumentation — Teutonic aspiration — 
 Artistic achievement 233 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE MIDDLE STAGE OF "SONATA" FORM. 
 
 Self-dependent music and design — Successive stages of develop- 
 ment — Subject and form — Influences which formed the 
 musical characters of Haydn and Mozart — Symphonies — 
 Orchestration — Quartetts — Increase of variety of types — 
 High organisation in a formal sense 255 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN. 
 
 Development of resources — Importance of Mozart's work at the 
 particular moment — Beethoven's impulse towards expression 
 — His keen feeling for design — Preponderance of sonatas in 
 his works — His three periods — Richness of sound — The piano- 
 forte — The orchestra — Use of characteristic qualities of tone 
 — Expansion of design — Expression — The scherzo — Close tex- 
 ture of Beethoven's work— His devices— Programme , . 273 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MODERN TENDENCIES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Characterisation — Increase of impulse towards the embodiment 
 of definite ideas external to music — Spobr — Weber — Men- 
 delssohn — Berlioz — Instrumentation — Kesuscitation of ora- 
 torio — Its peculiarities — Change in the aspect of choral 
 writing — Secular choral works — Declamation — Solo song — 
 Treatment of words — Expression and design — Pianoforte 
 music— Obviousness and obscurity— Realism — Great variety 
 of traits and forms 298 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 
 
 Italian disposition and its fruits — French opera — German ideals 
 — Wagner— Early influences— Instinct and theory — Exile and 
 reflection — Maturity — Methods and principles — Leit motive 
 — Tonality — Instrumental efi'ect — Design and expression 
 again— Declamation and singing — Profusion of resources . 335 
 
 Summary and Conclusion 364 
 
 Index 371 
 
THE ART OF MUSIC. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PRELIMINARIES. 
 
 There are probably but few people in the world so morose 
 as to find no pleasure either in the exercise or the receipt 
 of sympathy. It is the natural outcome of the state of 
 mutual dependence upon one another which is the lot and 
 the good fortune of human creatures ; and though there 
 is no need to extol it at the expense of self-dependence, 
 it is not a thing society can dispense with or afford to 
 look down upon as a mere weakness. Human creatures 
 naturally vary to an immense extent in the character and 
 amount of their sympathetic impulses ; and apart from 
 the mere commonplace everyday circumstances which call 
 them into play, most people have some special lines and 
 subjects which excite their sympathetic instincts and make 
 them specially conscious of the delight of fellowship in 
 tastes and interests, whether it be politics, science, litera- 
 ture, art, or sport. But of all types of humanity, those 
 who are possessed with artistic dispositions are notoriously 
 most liable to an absorbing thirst for sympathy, which is 
 sometimes interpreted by those who are not artistic as 
 a love of approbation or notoriety ; and though it does 
 sometimes degenerate into that unhappy weakness, its 
 source at least is not unworthy of respect. The reason 
 that the sympathetic instincts are so specially character - 
 
 A 
 
2 MUSIC. 
 
 istic of the artistic type of human creature appears to 
 lie in the fact that the artistic nature is specially suscep- 
 tible to beauty of some kind, whether it be the obvious 
 external kind of beauty, or the beauty of thought and 
 human circumstance ; and the various arts of painting, 
 sculpture, music, literature, and the rest are the outcome 
 of the instinctive desire to convey impressions and en- 
 joyments to others, and to represent in the most attrac- 
 tive and permanent forms the ideas, thoughts, circum- 
 stances, scenes, or emotions which have powerfully stirred 
 the artists' own natures. / It is the intensity of the plea- 
 sure or interest the artist feels in what is actually seen or 
 present to his imagination that drives him to utterance. / 
 The instinct of utterance makes it a necessity to find' 
 terms which will be understood by other beings in whom 
 his appeal can strike a sympathetic chord. And the 
 stronger the delight in the thought or feeling, the greater 
 is the desire to make the terms in which it is conveyed 
 unmistakably clear, and the pleasure to be obtained from 
 the contemplation of the work of art j)ermanent ; and 
 this instinctive desire is one of the main incitements to 
 the development of design. 
 
 Design has different aspects in different arts, but in 
 all it is the equivalent of organisation in the ordinary 
 affairs of life. It is the putting of the various factors of 
 effect in the right places to make them tell. In some 
 arts design seems the very essence and first necessity of 
 existence. The impression produced by vague sounds is 
 vague, and soon passes away altogether. They take no 
 permanent hold on the mind till they are made definite 
 in relation to one another, and are disposed in some sort 
 of order by the distribution of their up and down motion, 
 or by the regularity of their rhythmic recurrence. Then 
 the impression becomes j^ermanent, and design itself 
 begins to take phases more like other arts. In most 
 
PRELIMINARIES. 3 
 
 arts, it is the permanence of the enjoyment rather than 
 that of the artistic object itself which is dependent on 
 design. In sculpture, for instance, the very materials 
 seem to ensure permanence ; but undoubtedly a piece of 
 sculpture which is seriously imperfect in design soon 
 becomes intolerable, and is willingly abandoned by its 
 possessor to the disintegrating powers of rain and frost, 
 or to some corner where it can be conveniently forgotten. 
 Painting does not seem, at first sight, to require so much 
 skill in designing, because the things which move the 
 artist to express himself are so obvious to all men ; but 
 nevertheless the most permanent works of the painting 
 art are not those which are mere skilful imitations of 
 nature, but those into which some fine scheme of design 
 is introduced to enhance the beauty or inherent interest 
 of the artist's thought. 
 
 In music, form and design are most obviously necessary, 
 because the very source and reason of existence of the art 
 is so obscure. To some people beauty of form in melody 
 or structure seems the chief reasons of the art's existence. 
 At any rate, it seems on a different footing from all the 
 other arts. Even the most unsophisticated dullard can see 
 what inspired the painter or the sculptor to express himself, 
 but he cannot understand what music means, nor what it is 
 meant to express ; and many practical people look upon it 
 as altogether inferior to other arts, because it seems to have 
 no obviously useful application or reason for existence. 
 Painting, on the other hand, appears to the average mind 
 to be an imitative art ; and drawing a conclusion from two 
 premises which are both equally false, some people have 
 gone on to suppose that the only possible basis of all arts, 
 including music, is imitation, and to invent the childish 
 theory that the latter began by imitating birds' songs. 
 There is no objection to such a theory if considered as a 
 pretty poetical myth, and instances of people imitating 
 
4 MUSIC. 
 
 birds can of course be substantiated ; but as a serious ex- 
 planation of the origin of music it is both too trivial and too 
 incompatible with fact to be worth discussing. In reality 
 both arts are much on the same footing, for painting is no 
 more a purely imitative art than music. People deliberately 
 copy nature chiefly to develop the technique which is neces- 
 sary to enable them in higher flights to idealise it, and 
 present their imaginings in the terms of design which are 
 their highest sanction. It is just when a painter deliberately 
 sets himself to imitate what he sees that he least deserves 
 the name of an artist. The devices for imitating nature 
 and throwing the unsophisticated into ecstasies, because 
 the results are so like what they themselves have seen, are 
 the tricks of the trade, and till they are put to their proper 
 uses are on no other footing than the work of a good joiner 
 or a good ploughman. It is only when they are used to 
 convey the concentrated ideals of the mind of the artist 
 in terms of beautiful or characteristic design that they 
 become worthy of the name of art. Music is really much 
 on the same footing, for the history of both arts is equally 
 that of the development of mastery of design and of the 
 technique of expression. The only real difference is that 
 the artist formulates impressions received through the 
 eyes, and the musician formulates the direct expression of 
 man's innermost feelings and sensibilities. In fact, the 
 arts of painting and sculpture and their kindred are the 
 expression of the outer surroundings of man, and music of 
 what is within him ; and consequently the former began 
 with imitation and the latter with direct expression. 
 
 The story of music has been that of a slow building up 
 and extension of artistic means of formulating utterances 
 which in their raw state are direct expressions of feeling 
 and sensibility. Utterances and actions which illustrate 
 the raw material of music are common to all sentient 
 beings, even to those which the complacency of man de- 
 
PRELIMINARIES. $ 
 
 scribes as dumb. A dog reiterating short barks of joy on 
 a single note at the sight of a beloved friend or master is 
 as near making music as the small human baby vigorously 
 banging a rattle or drum and crowing with exuberant 
 happiness. The impulse to make a noise as an expression 
 of feeling is universally admitted, and it may also be 
 noticed that it has a tendency to arouse sympathy in an 
 auditor of any kind, and an excitement analogous to that 
 felt by the maker of the noise. A hound that has picked 
 up the scent soon starts the responsive sympathy of the 
 chorus of the pack ; a cow waiHug the loss of her calf 
 often attracts the attention and response of her sisters in 
 neighbouring fields ; and the uproarious meetings of cats at 
 night afford familiar instances of the effect such incipient 
 music is capable of exerting upon the feline disposition. 
 
 Human beings are quite equally sensitive to all forms 
 of expression. Even tricks of manner, and nervous ges- 
 tures and facial distortions, are infectious ; and very sen- 
 sitive and sympathetic people are particularly liable to 
 imitate unintentional grimaces and fidgets. But sounds 
 w^hich are uttered with genuine feeling are particularly 
 exciting to human creatures. The excitement of a mob 
 grows under the influence of the shouts its members 
 utter ; and takes up with equal readiness the tone of joy, 
 rage, and defiance. Boys in the street drive one an- 
 other to extravagances by like means ; and, as Cicero long 
 ago observed, the power of a great speaker often depends 
 not so much on what he says, as upon the skill with which 
 he uses the expressive tones of his voice. All such utter- 
 ances are music in the rough, and out of such elements the 
 art of music has grown; just as the elaborate arts of human 
 speech must have grown out of the grunts and whinings 
 of primeval savages. ^^But neither art nor speech begins till 
 something definite appears in the texture of its material. 
 Some intellectual process must be brought to bear upon 
 
6 MUSIC. 
 
 both to make them capable of being retained in the mind ; 
 and the early steps of both are very similar. Just as among 
 the early ancestors of our species, speech would begin 
 when the indefinite noises which they first used to com- 
 municate with one another, like animals, j^assed into some 
 definite sound which conveyed to the savage ear some 
 definite and constant meaning ; so the indefinite cries and 
 shouts which expressed their feelings began to pass into 
 music when a few definite notes were made to take the 
 place of vague irregular shouting. And as sj)eech grows 
 more copious in resources when the delicate muscles 
 of the mouth and throat are trained to obedience in the 
 utterance of more and more varied inflections, and the 
 ear is trained to distinguish niceties which have distinct 
 varieties of meaning, so the resources of music increased 
 as the relations of more and more definite notes were 
 established, in obedience to the development of musical 
 instinct, and as the ear learnt to aj)preciate the intervals 
 and the mind to retain the simple fragments of tune 
 which resulted. 
 
 The examination of the music of savages shows that they 
 hardly ever succeed in making orderly and well-balanced 
 tunes, but either express themselves in a kind of vague 
 wail or howl, which is on the borderland between music 
 and informal expression of feeling, or else contrive little 
 fragmentary figures of two or three notes which they 
 reiterate incessantly over and over again. Sometimes a 
 single figure suffices. When they are clever enough to 
 devise two, they alternate them, but without much sense 
 of orderliness ; and it takes a long period of human deve- 
 lopment before the irregular haphazard alternation of a 
 few figures becomes systematic enough to have the aspect 
 of any sort of artistic unity. Through such crude attempts 
 at music scales began to grow ; but they developed ex- 
 tremely slowly, and it was not till mankind had arrived 
 
PRELIMINARIES. 7 
 
 at an advanced state of intellectuality that men began to 
 take note of the relations of notes to one another at all, or 
 to notice that such abstractions could exist apart from the 
 music. And it has even sometimes happened that people 
 of advanced intellectuality have not succeeded in syste- 
 matising more than a very limited range of sounds. 
 
 But complete musical art has to be made definite in 
 its horizontal as well as its vertical aspects — in the for- 
 ward as well as the up and down motion ; and this was 
 first made possible by the element of rhythm. 
 
 All musical expression may be broadly distributed into 
 two great orders. On the one hand, there is the rhythmic 
 part, which represents action of the nature of dance 
 motions ; and on the other, all that melodic part which 
 rej)resents some kind of singing or vocal utterance. 
 Rhythm and vocal expression are by nature distinct, 
 and in very primitive states of music are often found 
 so. In that state the rhythmic music is defined only 
 by the pulses, and has no change of pitch, while purely 
 melodic music has change of pitch but no definition 
 or regularity of impulse. The latter is frequently met 
 with among savage races, and even as near the homes of 
 highest art as the out-of-the-way corners of the British 
 Isles. Pure unalloyed rhythmic music is found in most 
 parts of the uncivilised globe, and the degree of excite- 
 ment to which it can give rise, when the mere beating 
 of a drum or tom-tom is accompanied by dancing, is 
 well known to all the world. It is also a familiar fact 
 that dancing originates under almost the same conditions 
 as song or any other kind of vocal utterance ; and there- 
 fore the rhythmic elements and the cantabile elements are 
 only different forms in which the same class of feelings 
 and emotions are expressed. 
 
 All dancing is ultimately derived from expressive ges- 
 tures which have become rhythmic through the balanced 
 
8 MUSIC. 
 
 arrangement of tlie human body, wliich makes it difficult 
 for similar actions to be frequently repeated irregu- 
 larly. The evidence of careful observers from all parts 
 of the globe agrees in describing barbarous dances as 
 being obvious in their intention in proportion to the 
 low standard of intelligence of the dancers. Savages 
 of the lowest class almost always express clearly in their 
 dance gestures the states of mind or the circumstances 
 of their lives which rouse them to excitement. The 
 exact gestures of fighting and love-making are repro- 
 duced, not only so as to make clear to the spectator 
 what is meant by the rhythmic pantomime, but even 
 in certain cases to produce a frenzy in the mind of both 
 spectators and performers, which drives them to deeds 
 of wildness and ferocity fully on a par with what they 
 would do in the real circumstances of which the dancing 
 is an expressive reminiscence. 
 
 In these respects, dancing, in its earlier stages, is an 
 exact counterpart of song. Both express emotions in 
 their respective ways, and both convey the excitement 
 of the performers to sympathetic listeners. And both 
 lose the obvious traces of their origin in the development 
 of artistic devices. As the ruder kinds of rhythmic 
 dancing advance and take more of the forms of an art, 
 the significance of the gestures ceases to be so obvious, 
 and the excitement accompanying the jaerformance tones 
 down. An acute observer still can trace the gestures 
 and actions to their sources when the conventions that 
 have grown up have obscured their expressive meaning, 
 and when the performers have often lost sight of them ; 
 and the tendency of more refined dancing is obviously to 
 disguise the original meaning of the performance more 
 and more, and merely to indulge in the pleasure of various 
 forms of rhythmic motion and graceful gesture. But 
 even in modern times occasional reversions to animalism 
 
PRELIMINARIES. 9 
 
 in depraved states of society revive the grosser forms 
 of dancing, and forcibly recall the primitive source of 
 the art. 
 
 In melodic or vocal music the process has been 
 exactly analogous. The expressive cries soon began to 
 lose their direct significance when they were formalised 
 into distinct musical intervals. It is still possible to find 
 among lowly organised savages examples of almost un- 
 disguised expression which are on the border-line when 
 the cry or howl is barely disguised by the intervals used ; 
 but even the first stages of artistic definition are of a 
 nature to put an end to untrammelled expression of 
 feeling. The establishment of a definite interval of any 
 sort puts the performer under restrictions, and every 
 step that is made in advance hides the original mean- 
 ing of the utterance more and more away under the 
 necessities of artistic convention. And when little frag- 
 ments of melody become stereotyped, as they do in 
 every savage community sufficiently advanced to perceive 
 and remember, the excitement of sympathy with an 
 expressive cry is merged in a crudely artistic pleasure 
 in something like a pattern. 
 
 It is obvious that the rhythmic principle and the 
 melodic principle begin very early to react upon one 
 another. Savages all over the world combine their sing- 
 ing and their dancing, and they not only sing rhythmically 
 when regular set dances are going on, but when they 
 are walking, reaping, sowing, rowing, or doing any other 
 of their daily labours and exercises which admit of such 
 accompaniment. By such means the rhythmic and the 
 melodic were combined, and it is no reckless inference 
 that from some such form of combination sprung the 
 original rhythmic organisation of poetry. 
 
 But the tendency to revert to primitive conditions is 
 frequently to be met with even in the most advanced 
 
lo MUSIC. 
 
 stages of art ; and an antagonism, which it is one of the 
 problems of the art to overcome, is persistent throughout 
 its history. In very quick music the rhythmic principle 
 has an inevitable tendency to predominate, and in very 
 slow music the melodic principle most frequently becomes 
 prominent. But it must be remembered that the prin- 
 ciple which represents vocal expression applies equally to 
 instrumental and to vocal music, and that rhythmic dance 
 music can be sung. The difference of principle between 
 melodic quality and rhythmic quality runs through the 
 whole art from polka to symphony ; and, paradoxical as it 
 may seem, the fascination which some modern sensuous 
 valses exercise is derived from a distinctly cantabile treat- 
 ment of the tune, which appeals to the dance instinct 
 through the languorous, sensuous, and self-indulgent side 
 of people's natures. 
 
 The antagonism shows itself as much in men as in 
 the art itself. Dreamers and sentimentalists tend to 
 lose their hold upon rhythmic energy, while men of 
 energetic and vigorous habits of mind set little store 
 by expressive cantabile. Composers of a reflective and 
 romantic turn of mind like Schumann excel most in 
 music which demands cantabile expression, and men 
 like Scarlatti in rhythmic effect. This rule applies even 
 to nations. Certain branches of the Latin race have 
 had a very exceptional ability for singing, and have often 
 shown themselves very negligent of rhythmic definiteness; 
 while the Hungarians manifest a truly marvellous instinct 
 for what is rhythmic ; and the French, being a nation par- 
 ticvilarly given to expressing themselves by gesticulation, 
 have shown a most singular predilection for dance rhythm 
 in all branches of art. In the very highest natures the 
 mastery of both forms of expression is equally combined, 
 and it is under such 'conditions that music rises to its 
 highest perfection, as the use of the two jorinciples 
 
PRELIMINARIES. il 
 
 supplies the basis of the widest contrast of which the 
 art is capable. 
 
 In this respect the two contrasting principles of ex- 
 pression are types of a system of contrasts which is the 
 basis of all mature musical design ; and when the ultimate 
 origin of all music, as direct expression of feeling and an 
 appeal to sympathetic feeling in others, is considered, it 
 is easy to see that the nature of the human creature 
 makes contrast universally inevitable. Fatigue and lassi- 
 tude are just as certain to follow from the exercise of 
 mental and emotional faculties as from the exercise of 
 the muscles ; and fatigue puts an end to the full enjoy- 
 ment of the thing which causes it. It is absolutely in- 
 dispensable in art to provide against it. Even the most 
 subtle shades of such things count for a good deal ; and 
 it is the instinct of the artist who gauges human sensi- 
 bilities most justly in such respects that enables him 
 to reach the highest artistic perfection in design. The 
 mind first wearies and then suffers pain from over-much 
 reiteration of a single chord, or of an identical rhythm, 
 or of a special colour, or of a special fragment of 
 melody ; and even of a thing so abstract as a prin- 
 ciple. In some of these respects the reason is easily 
 found in some obvious physiological fact, such as exhaus- 
 tion of nervous force or waste of tissue ; but it appears 
 certain that the only reason why a similar law cannot 
 be explained in more intangible departments is that the 
 more refined and subtle properties of organised matter 
 are not yet perfectly understood. But it holds good, as 
 a mere matter of observation, that the laws which apply 
 i in cases where the physiological reasons are clear apply 
 also in more apparently abstract cases. It is perfectly 
 obvious that when any part of the organism is exhausted, 
 its energy can only be renewed by rest. But rest does 
 not necessarily imply complete lassitude of all the faculties. 
 
12 MUSIC. 
 
 It is a very familiar experience of hard-worked men that 
 the best way to recover from the exhaustion of a prolonged 
 strain is to change entirely the character of their work. 
 Many of the phenomena of art are explicable on this 
 principle. Up to a certain point the human creature is 
 capable of being more and more excited by a particular 
 sound or a particular colour, but the excitement must 
 be succeeded by exhaustion, and exhaustion by pain if 
 the exciting cause is continued. If the general excite- 
 ment of the whole being is to be maintained, it must 
 be by rousing the excitable faculties of other parts or 
 centres of the organism; and it is while these other 
 faculties or nerve centres are being worked upon that 
 the faculties which have been exhausted can recover their 
 tone. From this point of view a perfectly balanced 
 musical work of art may be described as one in which the { 
 faculties or sensibilities are brought up to a certain pitch 
 of excitation by one method of procedure, and when , 
 exhaustion is in danger of supervening, the general ex- 
 citation of the organism is maintained by adopting a 
 different method, which gives opportunity to the facul- 
 ties which were getting jaded to recover ; and when that 
 has been effected, the natural instinct is to revert to that 
 which first gave pleasure ; and the renewal of the first 
 form of excitation is enhanced by the consciousness of 
 memory, together with that sense of renewal of a power 
 to feel and enjoy which is of itself a peculiar and a very 
 natural satisfaction to a sentient being. 
 
 In the earlier stages of the art the struggle to arrive at 
 a solution of the problem this proposes is dimly seen. As 
 man had only instinct to find his way with it is not sur- 
 prising that he was long' in finding out means of defining 
 such contrasts. In the middle period of musical history the 
 method and use of such contrasts is offensively obvious ; 
 and in the modern period they are disguised by infinite 
 
PRELIMINARIES. T3 
 
 variety of musical and gesthetical devices, and are made 
 to recur with extraordinary frequency. In mature art 
 the systematisation of such contrasts is vital, and in im- 
 mature art it is incipient ; and tliis fact is the most 
 essential difference between the two. 
 
 Of such types of contrast that of principle between 
 the rhythmic and the melodic on one hand, and of 
 emotional and intellectual on the other, are the widest. 
 The manner in which they are applied in the highest 
 works of absolute music, such as symphonies and sonatas, 
 will hereafter come under consideration. 
 
 In the earliest stage of musical evolution these re- 
 spective principles show themselves, especially in the 
 manner in which definition is obtained, since, as has been 
 pointed out, definiteness is the first necessity of art. From 
 melodic utterance came the development of the scale, 
 from dancing the distribution of pulses. The former 
 is the result of man's instinct to express by vocal 
 sounds, the latter of his instinct to express by gestures 
 and actions ; and in the gradual evolution of the art the 
 former supplies the element of sensibility, and the latter 
 that of energy ; and when the nature of both is con- 
 sidered it will be felt that these characteristics are in 
 accordance with the nature of their sources. 
 
 To sum up. The raw material of music is found in 
 the expressive noises and cries which human beings as 
 well as animals give vent to under excitement of any 
 kind; and their contagious power is shown, even in the 
 incipient stage, by the sympathy which they evoke in other 
 sentient beings. !Such cries pass within the range of art 
 when they take any definite form, just as speech begins 
 when vague signals of sound give place to words ; and scales 
 begin to be formed when musical figures become definite 
 enough to be remembered. In the necessary process of 
 making the material intelligible by definition, the rhythmic 
 
T4 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 gestures of dancing played an important part, for by their 
 means the succession of impulses was regulated. Both 
 vocal music and dancing actually originate in the same 
 way; as they are different ways of manifesting similar 
 types of feeling. But they are in their nature contrasted, 
 for in the one case it is the sound which forms the means 
 of expression and in the other it is a muscular action, 
 and the music which springs from these two sources is 
 marked by a contrast of character in conformity with 
 them. This contrast presents itself as the widest example 
 of that law of contrasts which runs through the whole 
 art, and forms next to the definition of material, its most 
 essential feature. 
 
 The law of contrasts forms the basis of all the important 
 forms of the art for a most obvious and natural reason. 
 The principle of sympathetic excitement upon which the 
 art rests necessarily induces exhaustion, and if there 
 was no means of sustaining the interest in some way 
 which allowed repose to the faculties that had been 
 brought into exhausting activity, the work of art could 
 go no further than the point at which exhaustion began. 
 It is therefore a part of the business of art to maintain 
 interest when one group of faculties is in danger of 
 becoming wearied by calling into play fresh powers of 
 sensibility or thought, and giving the first centres time 
 to recover tone. And as there would be no point in such 
 a device if the first group of faculties were not called into 
 exercise again when they had revived, the balance and 
 rationale of the process is shown in mature periods of art 
 by a return to the first principle of excitation or source 
 of interest after the establishment of the first distinct 
 departure from it, which embodied this inevitable principle 
 of contrast. 
 
 Taking the most comprehensive view of the story of 
 musical evolution, it may be said that in the earlier stages, 
 
PRELIMINARIES. 15 
 
 while tlie actual resources were beiug developed and 
 principles of design were being organised, the art passed 
 A^ more and more away from the direct expression of human 
 feeling. But after a very important crisis in modern art, 
 when abstract beauty was specially emphasised and cul- 
 tivated to the highest degree of perfection, the balance 
 swung over in the direction of expression again ; and in 
 recent times music has aimed at characteristic illustration 
 of things which are interesting and attractive on other 
 grounds than mere beauty of design or of texture. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 SCALES. 
 
 The first indispensable requirement of music is a series of 
 ^ notes which stand in some recognisable relation to one 
 another in respect of pitch ; for there is nothing which the 
 mind can lay hold of and retain in a succession of sounds 
 if the relations in which they stand to one another are 
 not appreciably definite. People who live in countries 
 where an established scale is perpetually being instilled 
 into every one's ears from the cradle till the grave, can 
 hardly bring themselves to realise the state of things 
 before any scales were invented at all. And the familiar 
 habit of average humanity of thinking that what they are 
 accustomed to is the only thing that can be right, has 
 commonly led people to think that what is called the 
 modern European scale is the only proper and natural one. 
 But it is quite certain that human creatures did exist for a 
 very long time without the advantage of a scale of any sort ; 
 and that they did have to begin by deciding on a couple 
 of notes or so which seemed satisfactory and agreeable 
 when heard one after the other, and that they did have 
 to be satisfied with a scale of the most limited descrip- 
 tion for a very long period. What interval the primitive 
 savage chose was probably very much a matter of accident. 
 And inasmuch as scales used for melody are much less 
 stable than those which are used for harmony, it is quite 
 certain that the reiteration of a given interval was only 
 approximate, and that only in course of time did instinc- 
 tive consensus of opinion, possibly with the help of some 
 
SCALES. 17 
 
 primitive instrument, fasten definitely upon an interval 
 whicli to modern musicians would be clearly recognisable 
 as a fourth or a fifth, or any other acoustically explicable 
 pair of notes. 
 
 It is advisable to guard at the outset against the 
 familiar misconception that scales are made first and 
 music afterwards. Scales are made in the process of 
 endeavouring to make music, and continue to be altered 
 and modified, generation after generation, even till the 
 art has arrived at a high degree of maturity. The scale 
 of modern harmonic music, which European peoples use, 
 only arrived at its present condition in the last century, 
 after having been under a gradual process of modifica- 
 tion from an accepted nucleus for nearly a thousand years. 
 Primeval savages were even worse o£E than mediaeval 
 Europeans. They did not know that they wanted a scale ; 
 and if they had known it they would have had neither 
 acoustical theory or practical experience to guide them, 
 nor even examples to show them how things ought not to 
 be done. But it is extremely probable that in the end 
 they selected an interval which would approve itself to the 
 acoustical theorist as well as to the unsophisticated ear of 
 a modern lover of art. It is extremely difficult to gue^s 
 what that interval would be, and pure theoretic specula- 
 tion is almost certain to be at fault ; but examination of 
 the numerous varieties of scales existent in the world, 
 and of such as are recorded approximately by ancient 
 wind instruments, with the help of theory, may ultimately 
 come very near to solving the problem. 
 
 With reference to this point, it may be as well to re- 
 cognise that in the great number of scales which have 
 developed up to a fair state of maturity, there are no two 
 notes whatever that invariably stand in exactly the same 
 relation to one another throughout all systems. It might 
 well be thought that the octave could be excluded from 
 
 B 
 
1 8 MUSIC. 
 
 consideration, as if it were not part of a scale, but only the 
 beginning of a new series. But even the octave is said to 
 be a little out of tune in accordance with the authorised 
 theory of Chinese music. However, this is clearly only a 
 characteristic instance of the relation between theory and 
 art, for no Chinese musician would be able to hit an exact 
 intei-val, in singing, which was just not a true octave, even 
 if he was perverse enough to try. Of other familiar in- 
 tervals the varieties are infinite. In our own system the 
 fifth is less in tune than in many other systems, and in 
 the Siamese scale there is nothing like a perfect fifth at 
 all. The fourth is an interval which is curiously universal 
 in its appearance, but that again does not appear in the true 
 Siamese scale, or in one of the Javese systems. An agree- 
 ment in such intervals as thirds and sixths is not to be 
 expected. They are known to be difiicult intervals to 
 learn and difficult to place exactly in theoretic schemes ; 
 and the result is that they are infinitely variable in diffe- 
 rent scales. Some systems have major thirds and some 
 minor; and some have thirds that are between the two. 
 Sixths are proportionately variable, and are often curiously 
 dependent upon the fifth for any status at all; and of 
 such intervals as the second and seventh, and more ex- 
 treme ones, it must be confessed that they are so obvi- 
 ously artificial that even in everyday practice in countries 
 habituated to one scale, they are inclined to vary in 
 accordance with individual taste and the lack of it. 
 
 Of all these intervals there are two which to a musician 
 seem obviously certain to have been the alternatives in 
 the choice of a nucleus. As has been pointed out, sixths, 
 thirds, sevenths, and seconds are all almost inconceivable. 
 They are all difficult to hit certainly without education, 
 and are unstable and variable in their qualities. There 
 / remain ouly the intervals of the fourth and the fifth ; 
 and evidence as well as theory proves almost conclusively 
 
SCALES. 19 
 
 that one of these two formed the nucleus upon which 
 almost all scales were based ; and one of the two was pro- 
 bably the interval which primitive savages endeavoured to 
 hit in their first attempts at music. 
 
 But at the outset there comes in a very curious conside- 
 ration which must of necessity be discussed before going 
 further. If a modern musician, saturated in the habits 
 of harmonic music, was asked for an opinion, he would say 
 instantly that it was impossible that any beings could have 
 chosen the fourth as their first interval ; for that seems as 
 hard to hit as thirds and sixths, and is even more inconclu- 
 sive and unsatisfying to our ears. But nevertheless the fact 
 remains that it is oftener met with than the fifth in bar- 
 barous scales, and if modern habits of musical thought can be 
 put aside the reason is intelligible. Our modern harmonic 
 system is an elaborately artificial product which has so far 
 inverted the aspect of things that in order to get back 
 to the understanding of ancient and barbarous systems 
 we have almost to set our usual preconceptions upside 
 down. The modern European system is the only one in 
 which harmony distinctly plays a vital part in the scheme 
 of artistic design. Our scale has had to be transformed 
 entirely from the ancient modes in order to make the 
 harmonic scheme of aesthetics possible, and in this process 
 the manner in which the cultivators of other systems 
 regard their scales has become almost a lost sense. All 
 other schemes in the world are purely melodic. They 
 only admit of a single line of tune at a time, and their 
 scheme of aesthetics is totally alien to such a highly arti- 
 ficial and intellectual development as that of modern 
 European music. In melodic systems the influence of 
 vocal music is infinitely paramount ; in modern Euro- 
 pean art the instrumental element is strongest. The 
 sum of these considerations is, that whereas in modern 
 music people count their intervals from the bass, and 
 
20 MUSIC. 
 
 habitually think of scales as if they were built upwards, 
 in melodic systems it is, in most cases, the reverse. 
 The most intelligent observers of Oriental systems notice 
 that those who use them think of these scales as tending 
 downwards; and in certain particulars it is undoubtedly 
 provable that the practice of the ancients also was exactly 
 contrary to ours. To take one consideration out of many 
 as illustration. The leading note of modern music always 
 tends upwards ; in other words, the note which lies nearest 
 to the most essential note of the scale, which is always 
 heard in the final cadence, and is its most characteristic 
 melodic feature, is below the final and rises to it. But 
 this is exactly the reverse of the natural instinct in vocal 
 matters, and contrary to the meaning of the word cadence. 
 Most of the natural cadences of the voice in speaking 
 tend downwards. When a man raises his voice at the 
 end of a sentence he is either asking a question or 
 expressing astonishment, and these are expressions of 
 feeling which are in a minority. Pure vocal art follows 
 the rule of the inflections in speaking ; and in melodic 
 systems, which are so much influenced by the voice, 
 cadences which rise to the final sound are almost incon- 
 ceivable. They might be possible as expressing great 
 exaltation of feeling and power, but in most cases a 
 cadence means, artistically, a point of repose, and it is 
 only in very exceptional cases that a point of repose can 
 be imagined on a high note ; for the sustainment of a high 
 note implies tension of vocal chords and effort, and such 
 sustained effort can scarcely be regarded as a point of 
 repose. In modern music the cadence is a harmonic 
 process and not a melodic one; and the rising of the 
 leading note to the tonic in cadences becomes intelli- 
 gible as a movement of upper portions of the harmonies 
 which happen to coincide with esthetic requirements of 
 melody when supported by harmony. 
 
SCALES. 21 
 
 In melodic systems the majority of cadences are, as 
 the word implies, made downwards ; and undoubtedly in 
 a majority of cases the scale was developed downwards. 
 This view puts quite a different complexion on the diffi- 
 culty of accounting for the more frequent appearance 
 of the fourth in scales used only for melodic purposes. 
 For, going downwards, it is perfectly natural and easy to 
 hit the interval of the fourth, and a curious peculiarity 
 in the construction of many and various scales corrobo- 
 rates the likelihood of the fourth having been first chosen 
 downwards. It is an indubitable fact that scales are 
 developed by adding ornamental notes to the more essen- 
 tial notes which have been first established ; that is, notes 
 which lie close to the essential notes and to which the 
 voice can waver indefinitely to and fro. A note of this 
 kind would not at first be very exact in relative position. 
 Mere uncertainty of voice would both suggest it and 
 make it variable ; and undoubtedly it became a conspi- 
 cuous feature of the cadences very early. If the fourth 
 below was chosen by a musical people in developing 
 the melodic scale downwards, it is likely to be verified 
 by the frequent appearance of a note a semitone above 
 it, as this would be the first addition made to the scale, 
 and the downward tending leading note of the system. 
 
 There are many proofs of this theory of the develop- 
 ment of the scale, notably the ancient Greek scale, and 
 the modern Japanese and the aboriginal Australian scale, 
 such as it is. The first scale which history records as 
 used by the Greeks is indeed absolutely nothing more 
 than a group of t hree notes, of which those which are 
 furthest apart make the interval of the fourth, and the 
 remaining note is a semitone above the lower note. This 
 is precisely the scale which analogy and argument alike 
 lead us to expect as the second stage of scale-making 
 under melodic influences, and a proof that the first interval 
 
22 ML' SIC. 
 
 chosen was the downward fourth. The Japanese system 
 had nothing whatever to do with the Greek system, but 
 the same group of notes is extremely characteristic, and 
 is undoubtedly used with persistent reiteration in their 
 music. A modern European can get the effect for himself 
 by playing C, and the Ab and G below it one after another, 
 and reiterating them in any order he pleases so long as 
 he makes At? the last note but one and G the final. The 
 result is a curious reversal of our theories of musical 
 Eesthetics, for G seems to become the tonic, and C the 
 note of secondary importance — a state of things which 
 is only conceivable if we think of the scale as tending 
 downwards instead of upwards. 
 
 But it is not to be denied that some races seem to have 
 chosen a rising fifth as the nucleus of the scale, though it 
 is much less common. The voice has to rise in singing 
 as well as to fall, and it is conceivable that some races 
 should have thought more of the rise which comes early 
 in the musical phrase, than of the fall which naturally 
 comes at the end. One of the most astute and ingenious 
 analysts of musical scales, Mr. Ellis, thought that early 
 experimenters in music found out the fifth as the cor- 
 responding note to the fourth on the other side of the 
 note from which the fourth was first calculated. The 
 proof of the fifth's being recognised early — beyond its 
 inherent likelihood — lies in the fact that some bar- 
 barous scales comprise the interval of an augmented 
 fourth, such as to Ft, which is only intelligible 
 in a melodic system on the ground of the F^ being 
 an ornamental note appended to the G above it. 
 The original choice of a fifth or a fourth as the basis 
 or starting-point may have had something to do with 
 the fact that nearly all known scales which have arrived 
 at any degree of completeness can be grouped under 
 two well-contrasted heads. The scales of China, Japan, 
 
SCALES. 23 
 
 Java, and the Pacific Islands are all pentatonic in their 
 recognised structure. That is, they theoretically comprise 
 only five notes within the limits of the octave, which 
 are at various distances from one another. But in this 
 group the fifth from the lowest note is a prominent and 
 almost invariable item. The rest of the most notable 
 scales of the world are structurally heptatonic, and com- 
 prise seven essential notes in the octave. Such are the 
 scales of India, Persia, Arabia, probably Egypt, certainly 
 ancient Greece and modern Europe. And in these the 
 fourth was the interval which seems to have been first 
 recognised. To avoid misconception, it is necessary to 
 point out that all these scales have been subjected to 
 modifications in i^ractice, and their true nature has been 
 obscured. But the situation becomes intelligible by the 
 analogy of our own use of the modern scales. Ours are 
 undoubtedly seven-note scales, as even children who prac- 
 tise them are painfully aware; but in actual use a number 
 of other notes, called accidentals, are admitted, both as 
 modifications and as ornaments. The key of C is clearly 
 represented to every one by the white keys of a pianoforte, 
 but there is not a single black note which every composer 
 cannot use either as an ornament or as a modification 
 without leaving the key of C. Similarly nearly all the 
 pentatonic scales have been filled in, and the natives that 
 use them are familiar with other notes besides the curious 
 and characteristic formula of five, but in the background 
 of their musical feelings the original foundation of their 
 system rem^ains distinct; just as the scheme of the key 
 of C remains distinct in the mind of an intelligent musical 
 person even when a player sounds all the black notes 
 in a couple of bars which are nominally in that key. 
 \ / It undoubtedly made a great difference whether the 
 y fifth or fourth was chosen, for it is noticeable that small 
 A intervals like semitones are rare in five-note systems and 
 
24 MUSIC. 
 
 common iu seven-note systems ; and this peculiarity has 
 a very marked effect in the music, for those which lend 
 themselves readily to the addition of semitones have 
 proved the most capable of higher development. It is 
 unnecessary to speculate on the way in which savages 
 gradually built their scales by adding note to note, as 
 the historical records of Greek music go so far back into 
 primitive conditions that the actual process of enlargement 
 can be followed up to the state which for ancient days 
 must be considered mature. It is tolerably clear that 
 the artistic standard of the music of the Greeks was very 
 far behind their standard of observation and general in- 
 telligence. They spent much ingenious thought upon the 
 analysis of their scales, and theorised a good deal upon 
 the nature of combinations which they did not use ; but 
 their account of their music itself is so vague that it is 
 difficult to get any clear idea of what it was really like. 
 And it still seems possible that a large portion of what 
 has passed into the domain of "well authenticated fact" 
 is complete misapprehension, as Greek scholars have not 
 time for a thorough study of music up to the standard 
 required to judge securely of the matters in question, and 
 musicians as a rule are not extremely intimate with Greek. 
 But certain things may fairly be accepted as trustworthy. 
 Among them is of course the enthusiasm with which the 
 Greeks speak of music, and their belief in the marvel- 
 lous power of its effects. The stories of Orpheus and 
 Amphion and others testify to this belief strongly, and 
 mislead modern people into supposing that their music 
 was a great art lost, when the very fact and style of their 
 evidence tends to prove the contrary. It is not in times 
 when art is mature that people are likely to tell stories 
 of overturning toAvn walls or taming savage animals with 
 it; but rather when it is in the elementary stages in 
 which the personal character of the performer adds so 
 
SCALES. 25 
 
 much to the effect. It is a sufRciently familiar fact that 
 in our own times a performer of genius can move people 
 more and make more genuine effect upon them with an 
 extremely simple piece than a brilliant virhioso of the 
 highest technical powers can produce with the utmost 
 elaboration of modern ingenuity. A crowd of people 
 of moderate intelligence go almost out of their minds 
 with delight when a famous singer flatters them with 
 songs which to musicians appear the baldest, emptiest, 
 and most inartistic triviality. The moderns who are 
 under such a spell cannot tell what it is that moves 
 them, and neither could the Greeks. They would both 
 confess to the power of music, and the manner of their 
 confession would seem to imply that they had not arrived 
 at any high degree of artistic intelligence or perception. 
 The Greeks, moreover, were much nearer the beginning 
 of musical things, and may be naturally expected to have 
 been more under the spell of the individual symjDathetic 
 magnetism of the performer than even uneducated modern 
 people ; and the accounts we have of their system tend 
 to confirm these views. Its limitations are such as do not 
 encourage a belief in high artistic development, for at no 
 time did the scheme extend much beyond what could be 
 reproduced upon the white keys of the pianoforte and an 
 occasional Bb and CJ; and all the notes used were com- 
 prised within the limits of the low A in the bass stave 
 and the E at the top of the treble stave. The first records 
 indicate the time when the relations of three notes only 
 were understood, which stood in much the same relation 
 to one another that A F E do in our modern system. 
 /^ V ^^^ II This clearly does not represent the in- 
 
 D terval of a third with a semitone below 
 
 it, but the interval of a fourth looking downwards with 
 F as a downward leading note to E. This was called the 
 tetrachord of Olympos. In time the note between A and 
 
26 MUSIC. 
 
 F was added, which gave a natural flow down from A to E. 
 
 -^ ^ ^ n This was well recognised as the first 
 
 nucleus of the Greek system, and was 
 
 m._ 
 
 called the Doric tetrachord. It was enlarged by the 
 simple process of adding another group of notes which 
 corresponded exactly to the first, such as E, D, 0, B, 
 below or above, thereby making a balance to the other 
 tetrachord. It is possible that their musical sense de- 
 veloped sufficiently to make use of the artistic effects 
 which such a balance suggests ; and it is even likely 
 that the desire for such effects was the immediate 
 cause of the enlargement of the scale. In course of 
 time similar groups of notes, called tetrachords, were 
 added one after another till the whole range of sounds 
 which the Greeks considered suitable for use by the human 
 voice was mapped out. The whole extent of this scale 
 being only from B in the bass stave to A in the treble 
 indicates that the Greeks jjreferred only to hear the 
 middle portion of the voice, and disliked both the high 
 and low extremes, which could only be produced with 
 effort ; and it proves also that their music could not 
 have been of a j^assionate or excitable cast, because the 
 use of notes which imply any degree of agitation are 
 excluded. The last note which is said to have been 
 added in the matter of range was an A below the 
 lowest B, which was attributed to a lyre-player of the 
 name of Phryuis in B.C. 456. But this note was con- 
 sidered to stand outside the set of tetrachords, and was not 
 used in singing, but only to enable the harp-player to 
 execute certain modulations. 
 
 The Greek musical system being a purely melodic one, 
 it was natural that in course of time a characteristic 
 feature of higher melodic systems should make its appear- 
 ance. For the purposes of harmony but few arrange- 
 ments of notes are necessary, but for the development of 
 
SCALES. 27 
 
 effect in melodic systems it is very important to have 
 scales in which the order of arrangement of differing 
 intervals vary. In the earliest Greek nucleus of a scale, 
 the Doric, there was a semitone between the bottom note 
 and the next above it in each tetrachord — as between 
 and B, or F and E. In course of time the positions 
 of the semitones were altered to make different scales, 
 and then the tetrachord stood as B, OS, D, E, or as in 
 our modern minor scale D, E, F, G. This was called the 
 Phrygian, and was considered the second oldest. Another 
 arrangement with the semitone again shifted, as B, CS, 
 DiJ, E, resembles the lower part of our modern major scale, 
 and was known as the "Lydian." When the tetrachords 
 were linked together at first they overlapped, as in the 
 Doric form if the lower tetrachord was B, 0, D, E, the 
 one added above it would be E, F, G, A, the E being 
 common to both tetrachords. This was ultimately found 
 unsatisfactory, and a scheme of tetrachords which did not 
 overlap was adopted about the time of Pythagoras. Thus 
 
 the Doric mode stood as EFGA BODE, the semitones 
 coming between first and second and fifth and sixth ; the 
 Phrygian mode became like a scale played on the white 
 notes of the pianoforte beginning on D ; and the Lydian 
 like our ordinary major scale ; and more were added, such 
 as the yEolic, which . is like a scale of white notes begin- 
 ning on A, the Hypolydian like one beginning on F, and 
 so forth. 
 
 The restrictions of melodies to these modes secured a 
 strong variety of character, to which the Greeks were keenly 
 alive ; and they expressed their views of these diversities 
 both in writing and in practice. The Spartan boys were 
 exclusively taught the Doric mode because it was con- 
 sidered to breathe dignity, manliness, and self-dependence ; 
 the Phrygian mode was considered to have been nobly 
 
28 MUSIC. 
 
 inspiring also, but in different ways; and the Lydian, 
 whicii corresponded to our modern major mode, to be 
 voluptuous and orgiastic, probably from the fact that the 
 semitones lay in the upper part of the tetrachords, which in 
 melodic music with a downward tendency would have a 
 very different aspect from that of our familiar scale under 
 the influence of harmony. But this mode was not in great 
 favour either in ancient times or in medieeval times, when 
 attempts were made to revive the Greek system. 
 
 In this manner a series of the notes which were sup- 
 posed to be fit for human beings to sing were mapped 
 out into distinct and well-defined positions. But one 
 of the most important developments of the scale still 
 remained to be done. In modern times the scale has 
 become so highly organised that the function of each 
 note and the particular ofl^ice each fulfils in the design of 
 compositions is fairly well understood even by people of 
 moderate musical intelligence. What is called the tonic, 
 which is the note by which any key is named, is the most 
 essential note in the scale, and the one on which every 
 one instinctively expects a melody or a piece of music in 
 that key to conclude ; if it stops elsewhere every one feels 
 that a fair conclusion has not been reached ; and all other 
 notes are related to it in different degrees — the semi- 
 tone below as leading to it, the dominant as the note most 
 strongly contrasted to it, and so forth. But to judge from 
 the absence of remarks upon such functions in Greek 
 writers, and the obscurity of Aristotle's remarks on the 
 subject, it must be assumed that the ideas of the Greeks 
 on such a head were not strongly developed. In the 
 beginning, when there were only three notes to work 
 with, it seems as if their musical reason for existence 
 necessarily defined their functions ; but it is probable, as 
 frequently happens in similar cases outside the range of 
 music, that composers speculated in arrangements of the 
 
SCALES. 29 
 
 notes which ignored the purposes which brought them 
 into existence, and that, as the scale grew larger and 
 larger, people ceased to recognise that any particular 
 note was more important than another It is true they 
 had distinct names for every note in a mode, and two 
 are specially singled out as important, namely, the 
 " middle " note and the " highest," which all modern 
 writers agree was what we should call the lowest. If 
 anything can be gathered from the writings on the 
 subject at all, it seems to imply that the middle note, 
 the " mese," was something like our dominant, and the 
 "h}'pate," which we should call the lowest, was the note 
 to close upon. If this was so, the original functions 
 described on page 21 were still recognised in theory; 
 but the wisest writers on the subject in modern times 
 think that matters got so confused that a Greek musician 
 would end upon any note that suited his humour. This 
 vagueness coincides with the state of the scales of all 
 other melodic systems; and though the Greeks were more 
 intelligent than any other people that have used a melodic 
 system, it is very likely that without the help of a system 
 of harmony it is almost impossible to systematise a scale 
 completely. 
 
 The Greek system was subjected to various modifica- 
 tions in the course of history. It was very natural that 
 such intellectualists as they were should try experiments 
 to enhance the opportunities of the composer for effect. 
 One experiment was made very early, which was to add 
 a note like Ci, but less than a semitone above the C, 
 which stood next above the lowest note of the old Doric 
 tetrachord. This was called the chromatic genus, and 
 other experiments were tried in subdividing into yet 
 smaller intervals ; but the various writers who describe 
 these systems indicate that they were not altogether 
 successful, as the chromatic genus was regarded as 
 
30 MUSIC. 
 
 mawkish and insipid, and the enharmonic genus as too 
 artificial. 
 
 The Greek system may therefore be considered to 
 have arrived at its complete maturity in the state in 
 which a range of sounds extending only for two octaves 
 was mapped out into a series of seven modes, which can 
 be fairly imitated on a modern pianoforte by playing 
 the several scales which begin respectively on E, F, G, 
 A, B, C, D, without using any of the black keys. The 
 difference between one and another obviously lies in the 
 way in which the tones and semitones are grouped, and 
 the device affords a considerable opportunity for melodic 
 variety. But it appears improbable that the Greeks 
 arrived at any clear perception of the functions of the 
 notes of the scale in the manner in which we regard 
 our tonic and dominant: the full development of this 
 phase of scale-making had to wait till after the attempt 
 to systematise ecclesiastical music on what was supposed 
 to be the ancient Greek system in the early middle ages, 
 when the new awakening of the sense of harmony soon 
 caused scales to take entirely new aspects. 
 
 But this being the highest artificial development of 
 the scale element of music in connection with harmony 
 must be considered later, as there are many other 
 melodic systems like the ancient Greek in their appli- 
 cation but different in their order of arrangement. In 
 the many and various melodic systems of the world 
 scales are found of various structure, but in all the 
 process of building has evidently been similar. Races 
 I show their average characteristics in their scales as much 
 I as they do in other departments of human energy and 
 contrivance. Such as are gifted with any degree of 
 intellectual activity have always expended a singular 
 amount of it on their scales; and the result has been 
 , pedantically minute, or theoretic, or extravagantly fanci- 
 
SCALES. 31 
 
 ful in proportion to their inclinations in that direction. 
 The Chinese, as might be expected, have been at once 
 minutely exact in theory and bombastically complacent 
 in fancy. The races of the great Indian peninsula have 
 been wildly fanciful in their imagery and equally ex- 
 travagant in ingenious grouping of notes into modes ; 
 while the Persians and Arabs have been remarkable for 
 their high development of instinct in threading the 
 diflBcult and thorny ways of acoustical theory in such 
 a way as to obtain a very perfect system of intonation. 
 The Persian system is probably the most elaborate scale 
 system in the world. Nothing appears to be known 
 of early Persian music, and the earliest records give 
 examples of scales which are already very complete, 
 implying a very long period of antecedent cultivation 
 of the art. In the tenth century they had already 
 developed a scale which looks singularly complete, as 
 it comprises the intervals which are characteristic of 
 both our major and minor modes, except the major 
 seventh, which is our upward tending leading note. 
 That is, it appears as the scale of with both E flat 
 and E . natural, and both A flat and A natural, but 
 B flat only instead of our familiar leading note B. 
 This shows that they certainly did not at that time 
 attempt cadences like our European ones, and kept to 
 the natural system ; but they did not rest satisfied with 
 this scale. By the time of Tamerlane and Bajazet the 
 series of notes had been enlarged by the addition of 
 several more semitones, and the series had been sys- 
 tematised into twelve modes, on the same principle of 
 selection and for the same purjDOses of melodic variety 
 as had been adopted by the Greeks. In fact the first 
 three agree exactly with the ancient Ionic, Phrygian, and 
 Mixolydian modes of the Greeks, but go by the very dif- 
 ferent names of Octrag, Nawa, and Bousilik. But even 
 
32 MUSIC. 
 
 this did not go far enough for the subtle minds of the 
 Persians and Arabians. A famous lute-player adopted a 
 system of tuning which gave intervals that are quite un- 
 known to our ears ; as, for instance, one note which would 
 lie between Ej? and E, and another between A> and A, 
 in the scale of 0, The former is described as a neutral 
 third, neither distinctly major nor minor, which probably 
 had a pleasant effect in melodic music ; and the latter 
 as a neutral sixth. 
 
 Going still further, they applied mathematical treat- 
 ment of a high theoretical kind to the further development 
 of the scale. They evidently discovered the curiously 
 paradoxical facts of acoustics which make an ideally per- 
 fect scale impossible, and, to obviate the difficulties which 
 every acoustical theory of tuning presents, they sub- 
 divided the octave into no less than seventeen notes. 
 Their object was, not to have so many notes as that to 
 make melodies with, or to employ quarter tones, but to 
 have so many to select from as alternatives. The ar- 
 rangement of these notes was quite systematic, and gave 
 two notes instead of the one familiar semitone between 
 each degree of the scale and the one next to it. That 
 is to say, between D and there would be two notes, 
 one a shade less than a semitone (making the interval 
 known as the Pythagorean limma 243 : 256), and another 
 a little less than a quarter tone from D (making the inter- 
 val known as the comma of Pythagoras 524288 : 5 3 144 1). 
 And the same arrangement came between D and E, and 
 so on through the scale. By this ingenious arrangement 
 they secured absolutely true fifths and fourths, a major 
 third and a major sixth that were only about a fiftieth 
 of a semitone (that is, a skisma) short of true third and 
 sixth ; and a true minor seventh. Theoretically this is the 
 most perfect scale ever devised. Whether it really was 
 used exactly in practice is another matter. Even under 
 
SCALES. 33 
 
 harmonic conditions, when notes are sounded together, 
 it is impossible for the most expert tuners to make ab- 
 solutely sure of intervals within such narrow limits as 
 the fiftieth of a semitone, and it is well known that 
 in melodic systems the successions of notes used by 
 the performers are only approximately exact ; for the 
 finest ear in the world can hardly make sure of a true 
 third or a true sixth when they are only sounded one 
 after the other. In modern times this remarkable 
 system has been changed still further, though on less 
 delicately subtle lines, by tbe adoption of twenty-four 
 equal quarter tones in the octave. But this, though it 
 looks a larger choice, will not give such absolutely true 
 intervals as the earlier scheme. With all this wonderful 
 ingenuity in dividing off the range of sounds for use and 
 defining the units exactly, it appears that the Persians 
 and Arabians have but an uncertain sense of what we call 
 a tonic, and as far as can be gathered, stop short of classify- 
 ing the notes in accordance with their artistic functions 
 just as the Greeks seem to have done. 
 
 In strong contrast to the Persians the inhabitants of 
 the great Indian peninsula appear to have sedulously 
 avoided applying mathematics to their scale. And though 
 the Indian scales are even more complicated and numerous 
 than the Persian, they were handed down purely by aural 
 tradition. Unfortunately this avoidance of mathematics 
 has caused the subject of Indian scales to be extremely 
 obscure, and the extraordinarily high-flown imagery which 
 is used in Indian treatises on music renders the unravel- 
 ling of their system the more difiicult. The method used 
 for arriving at the actual scales used by musicians is to 
 test the notes produced by the subdivisions of a leng-th of 
 string which are indicated by the actual positions of the 
 frets upon the lute-like instrument called the vina, which 
 has been in universal use for many hundreds of years. The 
 
 C 
 
34 MUSIC. 
 
 frets are supposed to mark the points at which the string 
 should be stopped with the finger to get the different 
 notes of the scale ; but in practice a native player can 
 always modify the pitch by making his finger overlap 
 the fret more or less, and thereby regulate the fret to the 
 interval which tradition taught him to be the right one. 
 In fact the frets on different instruments vary to a con- 
 siderable degree — even the octave is sometimes too low 
 and sometimes too high ; but through examining a number 
 of specimens a rude average has been obtained, which 
 seems to indicate a system curiously like our own system 
 of twelve semitones. But it is clear that this can be only 
 a rough approximate scheme upon which more delicate 
 variations of relative pitch are to be grafted, for the actual 
 system of Indian scales is far more complicated than a 
 mere arrangement of twelve equal semitones can provide 
 for. 
 
 As in the case of the Persian and Arabic system, the 
 Indian scale does not come within the range of intelligible 
 record till it was tolerably mature and complete from 
 octave to octave. In order to get a variety of major and 
 minor tones and semitones the scale was in ancient times 
 divided into twenty-two small intervals called s'rutis, 
 which were a little larger than quarter tones. A whole 
 tone contained four s'rutis, a three-quarter tone three, and 
 a semitone two. By this system a very fair scale was 
 obtained, in which the fourth and fifth were very nearly 
 true, and the sixth high (Pythagorean). In what order 
 the tones and semitones were arranged seems to be 
 doubtful ; and in modern music the system of twenty-two 
 s'rutis has disappeared, and a system of the most extra- 
 ordinary complexity has taken its place. The actual series 
 of notes approximates as nearly as possible to our arrange- 
 ment of twelve semitones ; the peculiarity of the system 
 lies in the way in which it has been developed into modes. 
 
SCALES. 35 
 
 The virtue of the system of modes has ah-eady been 
 pointed out, as has the adoption of a few diverse ones 
 by the Greeks. The Indians went so far as to devise 
 seventy-two, by grouping the various degrees of the scale 
 differently in respect of their flats and sharps. This can 
 be made intelligible by a few examples out of this 
 enormous number. Our familiar major mode of course 
 forms one of them, and goes by the name of Dehrasan- 
 karabharna. Our harmonic minor scale also appears under 
 the name of Kyravani, the Greek modes also make their 
 apjDearance, and every other combination which is possible 
 to get out of the semitones, but always so that each 
 degree is somehow represented. The extremes to which 
 the process leads may be illustrated by the following. 
 Tanarujai corresponds to the following succession — 
 
 C, Dt?, Et?b, F, G, AS, B, C. 
 Gavambodi to 
 
 C, Di7, Eb, FJf, G, At), BW, C. 
 
 This obviously carries the modal system as far as it 
 can go. 
 
 But besides these modes the Indians have developed a 
 further principle of restriction in the "ragas," which are 
 a number of formulas regulating the order in which the 
 notes are to succeed each other. The rule appears to be 
 that when a performer sings or plays a particular raga 
 he must conform to a particular melodic outline both in 
 ascending and descending. He may play fast or slow, or 
 stop on any note and repeat it, or vary the rhythm at 
 his pleasure ; it even appears from the illustrations given 
 that he may put in ornamental notes and little scale 
 passages, and interpolate here and there notes that do 
 not belong to the system, so long as the essential notes 
 of the tune conform to the rule of progression. — Just 
 
36 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 as iu modern harmonic music certain discords must be 
 resolved in a particular way, but several subordinate notes 
 may be interpolated between the discord and the resolu- 
 tion. — An example may make the system clearer. The 
 formula given for the raga called Nada-namakrya is 
 C, Db, F, G, Ab, C iu ascending, and C, B, Ab, G, F, E, 
 Db, C in descending. In practice it is evident that the 
 performers are not restricted to the whole plan at once. 
 G may go either to F descending or to Ab ascending, and 
 Ab may either go to C or back to G, and so on ; but the 
 movement from any given note must be in accordance with 
 the laws of the raga, up or down. The example of this raga 
 given in Captain Day's Music of Southern India helps to 
 make the system clear. 
 
 In the mode of Maya-malavagaula, and the raga Nada-namakrj-a. 
 
 i 
 
 ^^ 
 
 §S 
 
 ^:=^- 
 
 I V \^* — I 
 
 et cet. 
 
 By this means the freedom of the performer is restricted, 
 but curious special effects are obtained. For instance, the 
 ascending scheme of Mohanna is C, D, E, G, A, C, which 
 produces precisely the effect of Chinese or any other penta- 
 tonic music, though the Indian music belongs to the other 
 group of systems ; and close as the restrictions seem to 
 be, it may be confessed that judging from the examples 
 given a good deal of variety can be obtained. A similar 
 device to that of the ragas is very commonly met with 
 even in modern European music, when a composer restricts 
 a melody to a particular group of notes in order to give 
 
SCALES. 37 
 
 it more definite character. Pursuing their love of cate- 
 gorising still further, the Indians restrict particular ragas 
 to particular hours of the day, and they used also to be 
 restricted to particular seasons of the year. As was the 
 case with the Greeks and their modes, the different ragas 
 have different attributes, and respectively inspire fear, 
 wonder, anger, kindness, and so forth. And moreover 
 they are all personified as divine beings, and have wives, 
 and histories, and are the subjects of elaborate pictures 
 and apparently also of fanciful poems. This all points to 
 a very long period of development, and to a considerable 
 antiquity in the established system ; for even people who 
 luxuriate in imagery and fancifulness like the Indians, do 
 not attribute divine qualities to a scheme which they 
 themselves have only devised in comparatively recent 
 times. The whole story also points to a considerable 
 feeling for the organisation of artistic material, but it is 
 recorded that the Indians have little feeling for anything 
 like a tonic, or for relative degrees of importance in the 
 notes that compose the scale; and there seems little 
 restriction as to which note in the scale may be used for 
 the final close. 
 
 The ancient Greek, and the Persian and Indian systems, 
 are the most important of the heptatonic systems ; all of 
 which appear to have been developed from the basis of 
 the fourth, and they certainly have served for the highest 
 developments of pure melodic music. Some of the pen- 
 tatonic systems (with modes of five notes) have also 
 admitted of very elaborate and artistic music, but the 
 standard is generally lower, both in the development of 
 the scale and of the art for which it serves. 
 
 The system which is usually taken as the type of the pen- 
 tatonic group is the Chinese, which stands in most marked 
 contrast to the Persian and Indian systems in every way. 
 Tlie passion for making ordinances about everything, and 
 
38 MUSIC. 
 
 the obstinate adherence to schemes which have received the 
 approval of authority, which characterise the Chinese, make 
 themselves felt in their scale system as everywhere else. 
 According to authorised Chinese history, their music is 
 of marvellous antiquity, and copious details are given 
 about the surpassing wonders of the ancient music, and 
 of the great emperors from nearly 3000 B.C. onwards, 
 who composed music and ordinances for its regulation; 
 but the account is so overwhelmed by grandiose and absurd 
 myths and extravagances that it is impossible to trace 
 the development of the scale. It has been altered several 
 times, but the alterations are by no means of the nature 
 of developments. About B.C. 1300 the scale is said to 
 
 have corresponded to C, D, E, G, A, ^ 
 
 ■I 
 
 which may be taken to be the old pentatonic formula. 
 About 1 100 B.C. it was amplified to C, D, E, FJ, G, A, B, C. 
 
 m 
 
 ^^3^^ 
 
 Later still, when 
 
 great Mongol invasion occurred, the Mongols changed 
 the Fjj^ to F, and made the scale like our major mode. 
 But then some of the musicians wanted to use F and 
 some Fji, and Kubla Khan, founder of the Mogul 
 dynasty, ordained that there should be both F and F| 
 in the scale, which accordingly became C, D, E, F, FS, G, 
 A, B, C. About a couple of hundreds of years later the FS 
 was abolished again, and soon after that the late form 
 of the pentatonic scale was adopted, which stands as 
 
 C, D, F, G, A. fe= ^-=^22z[| But meanwhile the 
 
 Chinese had from early ages a complete set of twelve semi- 
 tones just as we have, but arrived at, as their history tells, 
 in a singular semi-scientific manner. According to the 
 very careful and conscientious treatise of Van Aalst, the 
 
SCALES. 39 
 
 Chinese say that there is perfect harmony between / 
 
 heaven and earth, and that as the number 3 is the \' 
 symbol of heaven and 2 of earth, any sounds that are 
 in the relation of 3 to 2 must be in perfect harmony. 
 They accordingly cut two tubes, one of which is two- 
 thirds the length of the other, and took the sounds 
 which they produced as the basis of their musical system. 
 Fanciful as the story is, it points to the germ of truth, 
 that the interval of the fifth, which is produced by such 
 a pair of tubes, was really the nucleus of the pentatonic 
 system. And according to their story they went on to find 
 out other notes by cutting a series of twelve such tubes, 
 each of which was either two-thirds of the next longer, or 
 gave the octave below the note obtained by that measure- 
 ment. To all appearance this gave them a complete series 
 of semitones. The tubes so cut were the sacred regulators 
 of the national scale, and were called the "lus." They 
 were also held to be the twelve moons, and also the 
 twelve hours of the day, and other strange things ; and 
 the fact that they were all these wonderful things at 
 once made it indubitable that the scale was perfect and 
 not to be meddled with. But in fact nearly all the 
 intervals were out of tune. The fifth tube would osten- 
 sibly give a note a third above the lowest tube — as, if 
 the lowest was C the second would give G, the third 
 D, the fourth A, and the fifth E. But that note would 
 really be too high, and the intervals would go on getting 
 worse till they arrived at the octave, which would be the 
 worst of all. But the matter is ordained so. The "lus" 
 were made in accordance with the sacred principles of 
 nature, and therefore though the scale does not sound 
 agreeable it is right, and so it must remain. In order 
 to keep the scale in accordance with these saci-ed prin- 
 ciples the "lus" were made of such durable materials 
 as copper and jade ; and though it appears that the 
 
40 MUSIC. 
 
 " lus " are no longer in use, the system on wliicli they were 
 constructed still regulates the Chinese scale. But this 
 must not be taken to imply that all these twelve semi- 
 tones were to be used in the same piece of music. Their 
 only service was to enable the characteristic pentatonic 
 series to be made to start from different pitches. Prac- 
 tically the Chinese only use one mode at a time. In early 
 times they only used a series corresponding to the notes 
 produced by the first five "lu" pipes ; that is, C, D, E, G, A, 
 which is their old pentatonic form. The modern series is 
 theoretically that which corresponds to 0, D, F, G, A. 
 The use of the semitones is to enable the series to be trans- 
 posed, which does not alter the mode, except by varying 
 the degree in which the notes are out of tune. On great 
 ceremonial occasions the hymns have to be sung in the 
 " lu " which is called after the moon in which it is cele- 
 brated. So if in a ceremony which took place in the first 
 moon the pentatonic series began on 0, the hymn would 
 be sung a semitone higher each successive moon, till at a 
 ceremony in the twelfth moon it would begin on B, a 
 seventh higher than the first ; and then at the next per- 
 formance the hymn would drop a whole major seventh, 
 and be sung in notes belonging to the scale of C again. 
 To be hedged in with such conditions as these cannot be 
 expected to be encouraging to art, and it is not to be 
 wondered at that the Chinese system is the most crudely 
 backward and incapable of development of any of the 
 great melodic systems. But at the same time it must not 
 be ignored that notwithstanding such obstacles, and the 
 fact that musicians are looked down upon as an inferior 
 caste in China, the Chinese do manage to produce good 
 and effective tunes ; and it cannot be denied that the pure 
 pentatonic system lends itself peculiarly to characteristic 
 effects, and to the production of imj)ressions which are 
 more or less permanent. Its very restrictions give it an 
 
SCALES. 41 
 
 appearance of strangeness and definiteness wliicb attract 
 notice, and with some people liking. 
 
 Nations which have not been so tied and bound by 
 ordinances and dogmatic regulations have managed to 
 develop pentatonic systems to a much higher degree of 
 artistic elasticity, and the result has naturally been in 
 some cases to destroy the characteristic pentatonic effect. 
 The Japanese were among the foremost to expand their 
 system in every way they could think of. They have 
 nominally a complete series of twelve semitones just as we 
 have in Europe, but like all other employers of melodic 
 music they only use them to select from. Authorities 
 differ, but their type seems to be pentatonic in origin, 
 like the Chinese; though, unlike them, they distribute 
 their intervals so as to obtain twelve different modes of 
 five notes each. For instance, one mode of five notes, 
 called Hiradioschi, corresponds to C, D, Eb, G, Ap ; 
 another, Kumoi, to C, Db, ¥,^ G, At?; another, Iwato, 
 to C, Dt>, F, Gb, B ; ^ from which it is to be observed 
 that they fully appreciate the artistic value of semitones ; 
 which again distinguishes them from the Chinese, who 
 rarely use such intervals. They are said to make use of 
 the octave, the fifth, and the fourth in tuning, and to tune 
 their thirds and sixths by guesswork, and not by any 
 means scientifically. The thirds are said to be often more 
 like the "neutral thirds" described in connection with 
 Persian music, which are neither major or minor, but 
 between the two. A Japanese musician, who seems fully 
 competent to form an opinion, has expressed doubts as 
 to whether their scale was true pentatonic or not. In 
 face of the distinct grouping of five notes which is 
 almost invariable this seems rather paradoxical ; but the 
 frequent occurrence of a fourth with a semitone above the 
 
 ^ Mr. Pigott gives a note equivalent to E. 
 - Mr. Pigott gives a note equivalent to BP. 
 
42 MUSIC. 
 
 lower note is so like the early tetracliord of the Greeks, 
 with a sensitive downward tending leading note (see p. 25), 
 that the doubt is not without some grounds. The mode 
 Kumoi, quoted above, would in that sense represent two 
 tetrachords, 0, Db, F — G, Ab, G, like those of Olympos 
 put one above another ; and the effect of them may be 
 gauged by the process suggested on p. 22. 
 
 There are two other important systems of melodic 
 music which are most probably true pentatonic, but 
 quite different from either Chinese or Japanese. The 
 oldest of them is the Javese. In this case there is no 
 possibility of unravelling the process of development ; 
 we can only take the results as examined by Mr. Ellis 
 and Mr. Hipkins, whose methods seem thoroughly trust- 
 worthy, and gather what we can from the facts. The 
 Javese have two plans of tuning, one called Gamelan 
 Salendro, and the other Gamelan Pelog, which differ so 
 much that they cannot be played together. In the 
 Gamelan Salendro scale there are five notes, which are 
 fairly equidistant from one another, and each of them 
 exceeds our whole major tones, as and D, by a con- 
 siderable interval. To our European ideas such a scale 
 seems almost inconceivable. To compare it with our 
 major scale of 0, the first degree would be from to 
 a note half way between D and Eb, the next degree 
 would be between E and F but nearer to F, the next 
 would be a quarter of a tone higher than G, and the 
 next about half way between A and Bb, and the next 
 move would be to the octave C above the starting-point. 
 How such a scale could be tuned by ear almost passes 
 comprehension, and implies a very remarkable artificial 
 development of scale-sense in the musicians who use it. 
 The Gamelan Pelog is a very different mode, and almost 
 as singular. The first step would be from C to a note a 
 little higher than E, the second to a note a little below FJ, 
 
SCALES. 43 
 
 the third note would be just below G, the next a little 
 below B, and the remaining step would reach the octave 
 C. This is evidently a very elaborate artificial develop- 
 ment of some simpler pentatonic formula that has long 
 passed out of record. The Siamese system is almost as 
 extraordinary. It is not now pentatonic, though supposed 
 to be derived originally from Javese. The scale consists 
 of seven notes, which should by rights be exactly equi- 
 distant from one another ; that is, each step is a little less 
 than a semitone and three-quarters. So that they have 
 neither a perfect fourth nor a true fifth in their system, 
 and both their thirds and sixths are between major and 
 minor ; and not a single note between a starting note 
 and its octave agrees with any of ours. The difiiculty of 
 ascertaining the scale used in practice lay in the fact that 
 when the wooden harmonicon, which seemed the most 
 trustworthy basis of analysis, was made out of tune, the 
 Siamese set it right by putting pieces of wax on the bars, 
 which easily dropped off. Their sense of the right rela- 
 tions of the notes of the scale is so highly developed 
 that their musicians can tell by ear directly a note is not 
 true to the singular theory. Moreover, with this scale 
 they have developed a kind of musical art in the highest 
 degree complicated and extensive. 
 
 This survey would not be complete without reference 
 to the scale of the Scotch bagpipe. This again is a 
 highly artificial product, and no historical materials seem 
 available to help to the unravelling of its development. 
 Though often described as pentatonic, the scale comprises 
 a whole diatonic series of notes, from which modes may 
 be selected. These notes do not agree with our ordinary 
 system, and their relations are merely traditional and 
 chosen by ear. Taking A as a starting-point, the next 
 note is a little below B ; the next is not 0, but almost a 
 neutral third (p. 32) from A ; the next very nearly a true 
 
X 
 
 44 MUSIC. 
 
 fonrtli above A, that is, a little below our P ; the next 
 almost exactly a true fifth from A, that is, very near E ; 
 the next a neutral sixth from A (p. 32), between E and F ; 
 and the remaining note a shade below G. The type is 
 more like the ancient Arabic than any other, and not 
 really the least like the Chinese, though the impression 
 conveyed by the absence of the leading note misleads 
 people into supposing they are akin. "Whether it is really 
 a pentatonic scale, as some have thought, is therefore 
 extremely doubtful. Even if the modes were really of 
 five notes, that is not a j)roof that its constitution is of 
 the pentatonic order, as has been indicated in connection 
 with the Indian and Japanese system ; both the fifth and 
 the fourth are very nearly true, and as it seems based on 
 the old Arabic system, which was not pentatonic, the argu- 
 ment would tend to class it with the Indo-European and 
 Persian seven-note systems. 
 
 The above summary is sufficient to show the marvellous 
 variety of the scales developed by different nations for 
 purely melodic purposes. The simple diatonic system of 
 the Greeks, the subtly ingenious mathematical subdivisions 
 of the Persians and Arabs, the excessive modal elabora- 
 tions of the Hindus, the narrow and constricted stiffness 
 of the Chinese, the ambiguous elasticity of the Japanese, 
 and the truly marvellous artificiality of the Javese and 
 Siamese systems, are all the products of human artistic 
 ingenuity working instinctively for artistic ends. Simi- 
 larity of racial type seems to have caused men to produce 
 scales which are akin. They are all devised as means to 
 ends, and when the artistic feeling of the races who 
 devised the scales has been similar the result has been 
 so too. The seven-note systems are mostly characteristic 
 of Caucasian races, and the five-note scales of the somewhat 
 mixed but probably kindred races of Eastern Asia. And 
 this does not so much indicate that they borrowed from 
 
SCALES. 45 
 
 Weach other as that the same types of mind working under 
 j( artistic impulse produced similar results. One important 
 defect they have in common. Though in most of them the 
 relations of the notes are actually defined with the utmost 
 clearness, in none have they arrived at the artistic com- 
 pleteness of maturity which is implied by classification. 
 This remained to be done under the influence of harmony. 
 It is quite clear that the early Christians adopted the 
 principles and some of the formulas of melody of the 
 ancient Greek system — in the state it had arrived at about 
 the beginning of our era — for as much music as their 
 simple ritual required. But none of it was written down, 
 and in those centuries of general disorganisation in which 
 the collapse of the Roman Empire was going on, the tradi- 
 tions became obscure and probably conflicting in different 
 centres. To remedy this state of things efforts were made, 
 especially by Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, and one of the 
 Popes named Gregory, to establish uniformity by restoring 
 the system of the Greek modes and making the music 
 they used conform to it. Knowledge of every kind was 
 at that time at a very low ebb, and the authorities who 
 moved in the matter had very limited and indefinite 
 ideas of what Greek music had been. But between them 
 they contrived to organise an intelligible arrangement 
 of various modes, and it was of no great consequence 
 that they got most of the names wrong. Ambrose autho- 
 rised four modes, the (i) Dorian, (2) Phrygian, (3) Lydian, 
 and (4) Mixolydian — corresponding more or less to the 
 ancient Greek (i) Phrygian, (2) Doric, (3) Syntono- Lydian, 
 and (4) Ionic. These were called the authentic modes. 
 Gregory nominally added four more, which were not really 
 new modes, but a shifting of the component notes of the 
 modes of Ambrose; for as by Ambrose's regulations musi- 
 cians were only allowed to use the scale of D between D and 
 its octave, by Gregory's arrangement they might use the 
 
46 MUSIC. 
 
 notes a, h, c below the lower D instead of in the higher 
 part of the scale. And similarly with the other three. 
 Gregory's group were called plagal modes. In later days 
 four more modes were added ; the mode beginning on 
 C, and that beginning on A and their plagals ; and two 
 hypothetical modes which were not supposed to be used, 
 namely, that beginning on B and its plagal. The total 
 amounted therefore to fourteen modes, of which two 
 were not actually used. It was very soon after this 
 organisation of modes that attempts at harmony began 
 to be made ; either by doubling an ecclesiastical tune at 
 another pitch, such as the fourth or the fifth, or by really 
 trying to get two tunes to go together. The idea of har- 
 mony in the modern sense did not develop into clearness 
 for centuries ; but musicians got more and more expert in 
 contriving to make various melodies go together without 
 ugly combinations, and by degrees the meaning of chords 
 and their possible functions in a scheme of art began 
 to dawn upon men's intelligence. Meanwhile human 
 instinct soon led composers to modify the ecclesiastical 
 modes. Even when they were only used melodically, 
 certain imperfections soon made themselves felt. The 
 mediaeval musicians had quite an intense detestation of the 
 interval of the augmented fourth, such as appears between 
 F and B ; and singers were allowed to take the note a 
 semitone lower than B, that is, Bt?, wherever the notes 
 forming the objectionable interval occurred close together 
 in a passage of melody. This was not at first dictated by a 
 feeling for the ugliness of the harmonic effect of the notes, 
 but for that of their melodic effect ; it was not till their 
 sense for harmony began to grow and expand that the ugli- 
 ness of the interval in harmony became equally apparent. 
 Then one modification led to another. The adoption of 
 Bb got rid of the ugly interval between F and B, but it 
 created a new one between B b and E : and to obviate this, 
 
SCALES. 47 
 
 a new flat had to be introduced for E. Then as their 
 harmonic sense developed a still further step began to 
 attract them strongly. At first the principal melody of 
 the plain song had been generally in the bass, and had 
 been doubled in the higher parts ; then it was transferred 
 to the middle parts, and other melodies called counterpoints 
 were written round it ; and then, finally, a totally new 
 aspect of things for art was reached when men began to 
 feel that the tune was at the top. As long as their 
 feeling for the pure melodic side of music predominated, 
 they regarded the passage of the last note but one of the 
 principal melody one step downwards to the tonic as the 
 principal feature of the cadence. When they began to 
 accompany this passage by harmony their attention was 
 soon drawn away from this part in the combination to the 
 notes that accompanied it in other parts. At first it was 
 common to accompany the last note but one with the third 
 below or the sixth above, and pass to the unison or the 
 octave for the conclusion. And as long as nothing else was 
 added this did very well, though in the favourite modes 
 the accompanying part moved up a whole tone instead of 
 a semitone. The aspect of things was changed when men 
 found out that it sounded well to accompany the penulti- 
 mate step of the plain song by the fifth below as well as 
 the third or sixth, as E and by A, or A and P by D ; 
 («) I ^ (b) 
 
 ^- 
 
 I 
 
 then the effect of the minor 
 
 third created by the system of most of the modes began to 
 appear objectionable ; because the artistic sense of musi- 
 cians made them long for definite finality at the conclusion 
 of a piece of music, and this was not produced by such a 
 process as the progression of the chord of A minor to the 
 chord of D minor. To obviate this a sharp was added 
 by musicians to the third of the penultimate chord, as 
 
48 MUSIC. 
 
 to C in example (a) above, and to F in example (h), thus 
 creating the upward tending leading note, and giving 
 a better effect of finality to the jjrogression. The move 
 was opposed by ecclesiastical authority, but in vain ; the 
 artistic instinct of musicians was too strong, and the 
 major penultimate chord with its sensitive leading note 
 became an established fact in music. It is not possible 
 here to trace the gradual transformation of the modes 
 through every detail. Step by step in analogous ways to 
 the above the modes were subjected to further modifica- 
 tions by the addition of more sharps and flats. Men's sense 
 of the need for particular chords in particular relations to 
 one another drove them on in spite of themselves ; and the 
 most humorous part of the story is, that after centuries 
 of gradual and cautious progress they ultimately com- 
 pleted a scale which they had known all along, but had 
 rather looked down upon as an inferior specimen of its 
 kind. This simply proves what is now quite obvious, that 
 for melodic purposes such modes as the Doric (beginning 
 on D) and the Phrygian (beginning on E) were infinitely 
 preferable to the Ionic (beginning on C), and that when 
 they began to add harmonies they had not the least 
 notion where their course was going to lead them. They 
 first attempted harmony in connection with the melodic 
 modes which they thought most estimable, under the 
 familiar misconception that what was best in one system 
 would be best in all, and only found out that they were 
 wrong by the gradual development of their artistic sense 
 for harmony in the course of many centuries. At last, 
 in the seventeenth century, men began to have a distinct 
 sense of an artistic classification of the notes of the scale. 
 The name note or tonic of a scale arrived finally at its 
 decisive position as the starting-point and the resting- 
 place of an artistic work. The establishment of the 
 major chord on the dominant note — the fifth above the 
 
SCALES. 49 
 
 tonic— gave tliat note the position of being the centre 
 of contrast to the tonic; and upon the principle of 
 progress to contrast, and back to the initial starting- 
 point, the whole fabric of modern harmonic music is 
 built. The other notes fell into their places by degrees. 
 The mediant (as E in C) chiefly as the defining note 
 for major or minor mode ; the subdominant (as F in C) 
 as a subordinate centre of contrast in the harmonical 
 system of design, and as the sensitive downward tending- 
 leading note to that very important note the third of the 
 final chord in the cadence. The leading note (as B in 
 the key of C) had a melodic function in strengthening 
 the cadence, and served as the major third of the dominant 
 chord ; the supertonic (as D in the key of C) served as 
 fifth of the dominant chord, and as the basis of the har- 
 mony which stands in the same relation to the dominant 
 of the key as that stands to its tonic. And the remaining 
 diatonic note (the submediant, as A in C) appears chiefly 
 as the tonic of the relative minor mode, and otherwise 
 as the most indefinite note in the system. Tliis does 
 not of course exhaust the functions of the various notes. 
 To give them all would require a treatise on modern 
 composition. They are always being expanded and 
 identified with fresh manipulations of the principles of 
 design by able composers. The fact is worth noting that 
 the complete classification of the functions of the various 
 items of the scale is one which puts our harmonic system 
 of music — as a principle suited for the highest artistic de- 
 velopment — eight centuries ahead of all melodic systems. 
 For it took musicians fully that time to arrive at it from 
 the basis of the old melodic system of the Church. 
 
 The last stage of refinement in the development of 
 our scale system was the assimilation of all the keys — as 
 they are called — to one anotlier. That is, the tuning of 
 the twelve semitones so that exactly the same modes 
 
50 MUSIC. 
 
 can be started from any note as tonic. But it took men 
 long to face this, and the actual adoption of the principle 
 implied a further modification of the scale. 
 
 As long as people could remain content with approxi- 
 mately diatonic music, and a range of few keys, they 
 did not become painfully aware of the difficulties which 
 acoustical facts throw in the way of perfect tuning. Till 
 the end of the sixteenth century musicians did not want 
 more accidentals than Bb, Eb, F^, 0^, and G^. But as 
 their sense for harmony developed they began to make Al? 
 stand for Gji, and Db for C^, and DJr for Eb, and endea- 
 voured to get new chords and new artistic effects thereby. 
 Then they began to find out the artistic value of modulation 
 as a means of contrast and variety, and by degrees they 
 came to want to use all the keys. But under the old system 
 of tuning Bb was by no means the same thing as A^, 
 and any one who played the old Gt, C, and Eb under 
 the impression that it was the same chord as 0, E, and 
 G transposed, was rudely undeceived by an unpleasant 
 discordance. The spirits whose instinct was genuinely 
 and energetically artistic insisted that our system must 
 accept a little imperfection in all the intervals for the 
 sake of being able to use all keys on equal terms. The 
 struggle was long, and various alternatives were pro- 
 posed by those who clung to the ideal of perfectly 
 tuned chords — such as splitting up the semitones as the 
 Persians had done. But in the end the partisans of the 
 thoroughly practical and serviceable system of equal tem- 
 perament won the day. The first great expression 
 of faith was J. S. Bach's best-known work, the two 
 books of Preludes and Fugues in all the keys, called 
 by him the "well-tempered clavier." An ideally tuned 
 scale is as much of a dream as the philosopher's stone, 
 and no one who clearly understands the meaning of art 
 wants it. The scale as we now have it is as perfect as 
 
SCALES. 51 
 
 our system requires. It is completely organised for an 
 infinite variety of contrast, both in the matter of direct 
 expression — by discord and concord — and for the purposes 
 of formal design. The instincts of human creatures for 
 thousands of years have, as it were, sifted it and tested 
 it till they have got a thing which is most subtly adapted 
 to the purposes of artistic expression. It has afforded 
 Bach, Beethoven, Schubert, Wagner, and Brahms ample 
 opportunities to produce works which in their respective 
 lines are as wonderful as it is conceivable for any artistic 
 works to be. A scale system may fairly be tested by what 
 can be done with it. It will probably be a good many cen- 
 turies before any new system is justified by such a mass 
 of great artistic works as the one which the instincts of 
 our ancestors have gradually evolved for our advantage. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 FOLK-MUSIC. 
 
 The basis of all music and the very first steps in the long 
 story of musical development are to be found in the 
 musical utterances of the most undeveloped and uncon- 
 scious ty]3es of humanity, such as unadulterated savages 
 and inhabitants of lonely isolated districts well removed 
 from any of the influences of education and culture. Such 
 savages are in the same position in relation to music as 
 the remote ancestors of the race before the story of the 
 artistic development of music began ; and through study of 
 the ways in which they contrive their primitive fragments 
 of tune and rhythm, and of the way they string these 
 together, the first steps of musical development may be 
 traced. True folk-music begins a step higher when these 
 fragments of tune are strung together upon any principles 
 which give the whole an appearance of orderliness and 
 completeness ; and power to organise materials in such a 
 manner does not come to human creatures till a long way 
 above the savage stage. In such things a savage lacks 
 the power to think consecutively, or hold the relations of 
 different factors in his mind at once. His phrases are 
 necessarily very short, and the order in which they are 
 given is unsystematic. It would be quite a feat for the 
 aboriginal brain to keep enough factors under control at 
 once to get even two phrases to balance in an orderly 
 manner. The standard of completeness in design depends 
 upon the standard of intelligence of the makers of the pro- 
 duct; and it cannot therefore be expected to be definite 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 53 
 
 or systematic when it represents the intellectual standard 
 of savages. Nevertheless the crudest efforts of savages 
 throw light upon the nature of musical design, and upon 
 the manner in which human beings endeavoured to grapple 
 with it. The very futility of the arrangement of the 
 musical figures in their tunes is most instructive, and the 
 gradual development of power to arrange them in an 
 intelligible order, is clearly seen to proceed parallel to 
 the general development of capacities of all kinds in the 
 human race. 
 
 At the very bottom of the process of development are 
 those savage howls which have hardly any distinct notes 
 in them at all. Many travellers record such things, and 
 try to represent them in the European musical stave. 
 For instance, the natives of Australia are described by a 
 French traveller as beginning a howl on a high note and 
 descending a full octave in semitones ; and the Caribs are 
 described by an English traveller as doing the same thing. 
 
 Ciirib. 
 
 i 
 
 ^^E^^^E^^^E^z 
 
 ^=^===t=t=^=^=E=^=£[ 
 
 Every one who knows anything about music is aware 
 that the stave notation cannot in tliis case represent the 
 reality, as a downward scale of correct semitones is beyond 
 the powers of any but very highly trained singers even 
 in advanced stages of musical development. Another 
 traveller quotes some Polynesian cannibals as gloating 
 over their living victims, shortly to be devoured, and 
 singing gruesomely suggestive passages of rising quarter 
 
 * Compare the following Hungarian tune for the same type of 
 expression made into music : — 
 
54 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 tones. In all such cases the process must have been a 
 gliding of the voice up or down, without notes that were 
 strictly defined either in relation to one another or to any 
 general principle. This process of gliding is familiar in 
 every stage of art, even the most advanced, and always 
 implies direct human expression in the action, for it is 
 obviously out of the range of any scale. But in advanced 
 stages of art it is a mere accessory which the performers 
 use for expressive purposes at their own discretion, and it 
 is not often indicated in the actual writing of the musical 
 material of compositions. With the savage it is pure 
 human expression no further advanced than the verge of 
 formulation into musical terms. 
 
 The first step beyond this is the achievement of a single 
 musical figure which is reiterated over and over again. 
 Of this form the aborigines of Australia are recorded to 
 afford the following example : — 
 
 -ft~rrg=^^gg:^: 
 
 eel 
 
 ^ES 
 
 tJ- 
 
 These simple figures they are said to have gone on singing 
 over and over again for hours. It seems to represent 
 a melancholy gliding of the voice downwards — the first 
 artistic articulation of the typical whine above described — • 
 and as far as it represents any scale, it indicates the use of 
 the downward fourth as the essential characteristic inter- 
 val, with a downward tending leading note (see page 21). 
 A similar example of the reiteration of a single figure is 
 quoted by a traveller from Tongataboo, which is also 
 described as being reiterated endlessly over and over 
 
 et cet. 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 55 
 
 It is extremely difficult to make sure what intervals 
 savages intend to utter, as they are very irregular in 
 hitting anything like exact notes till they have advanced 
 enough to have instruments with regular relations of 
 notes more or less fixed upon them. But if the latter 
 illustration can be trusted it represents the nucleus of 
 the pentatonic system (page 23), with a sort of orna- 
 mental glide round one of the essential notes. 
 
 From a very different and distant group of natives, the 
 Macusi Indians of Guiana in South America, comes a 
 formula of repetition which is one stej) further advanced, 
 as there is a contrast of two melodic formulas, A and B. 
 
 A A A B 
 
 ^5££^F=^^^r^'=^ ^ 
 
 i 
 
 B 
 
 -^ii^ztTzi^ 
 
 m 
 
 tj-^ — ^"^^r- ^— ^ 
 
 And 
 
 The design is obviously unsymmetrical, and the real im- 
 pulse of the singers seems to have been to derive pleasure 
 from the mere sense of contrast of the two little musical 
 figures, and, like children, to reiterate the first phrase till 
 they were tired of it, and then to sing the second a little 
 for a change, and then to go back to A for a little, and 
 then sometimes to reiterate B till they were tired of that, 
 and then to go back to A again, and so on. They are said 
 to have gone on doing this for hours. 
 
 As we rise in the human scale the phrases get longer 
 and more varied ; and the relation of phrase to phrase 
 becomes more intelligible, and the order in which they 
 occur becomes more symmetrical. The relative lack of 
 mental power shows itself in weakness and iudefiuiteness 
 of design. A sort of music will go on for a long time, 
 but be totally devoid of systematic coherence ; indeed 
 
56 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 resembling notliiug so nuicli as attempts at stories made 
 by excitable children or jieople of weak intellect, who 
 forget their point before they are half way through, 
 and string incidents together which have in reality no- 
 thing to do with one another. There is a most re- 
 markable example of this kind of helplessness in a long 
 Trouvere song in an English manuscript of the thir- 
 teenth century. It tells the story of Samson, and begins 
 by reiterating a very genial little fragment of tune, 
 
 :^ 
 
 ■^- 
 
 7M. 
 
 Sam-son dux for-tis 
 
 le vie - tor po - ten-tis - si - me. 
 
 which rambles on pleasantly for some time, and then — as 
 if there had been enough of it — is replaced by another 
 phrase of similar type, which in turn gives place to 
 another, -without any attempt at system or balance or 
 co-ordination of the musical material. It is as if the 
 singer went on with a little phrase till he was tired of it, 
 and then tried another till he was tired of that, and so 
 on as long as the words required. 
 
 A type of this sort, with a little more sense of system, 
 is quoted from Mozambique : — 
 
 It must be confessed that this must either have been 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 
 
 57 
 
 improved upon iu the recording, or else it is not pure 
 native music. But by reading between the lines it is 
 easy to see that the music had organisation enough to 
 start from a high point and end on the low point of repose, 
 and that three different types of fairly well-defined figures 
 were successively alternated without further attempt at 
 balance than the repetition of the first phrase. 
 
 As the standard of human organisation improves the 
 capacity to balance things more regularly becomes evident ; 
 and the power to alternate simple figures systematically 
 immediately produces the most primitive form of the 
 rondo. 
 
 The following example of Feejee music illustrates the 
 type with very fair regularity : — 
 
 ■^ A^ 
 
 
 =# — Fi=r 
 
 3==W=|: 
 
 ->-i "V ~r 
 
 ^^^A^ 
 
 -=Sr^ 
 
 =*=^^?=^E^^~: 
 
 p 
 
 :*=^= 
 
 ^=^ 
 
 Tliis type of design persists through the whole story 
 of musical art with different degrees of extension in 
 the phrases which are alternated. The familiar aria 
 form of the middle period of opera is merely an alterna- 
 tion of characteristic material and contrasting keys, and 
 the more highly organised rondo of symphonic art is a 
 constant alternation of one special musical passage with 
 
58 MUSIC. 
 
 others wliicli contrast with it. In the Feejee tune there 
 are only two figures which are alternated. 
 
 As an extraordinarily compact example of reiteration 
 with different phrases alternating with the recurrences of 
 the principal figure, the following Russian tune is worth 
 examination, and it certainly puts the type in almost the 
 closest limits conceivable : — 
 
 l^g^gg^g^Sl^^g 
 
 The tune is specially interesting because it reverses the 
 familiar order of the rondos, and puts the essential char- 
 acteristic figure second to the contrasting figures each 
 time. And this rather emphasises the universality of the 
 general princijDle of knitting a whole movement together 
 by the reiteration of a characteristic feature. In this case 
 the tonal form is obscure, for the tune begins on D and 
 ends on C, so the curious little figure indicated by the 
 asterisk is apparently the only thing that holds the tune 
 together ; but the management of the alternations shows 
 a skill and subtlety which enhances the effect of the whole. 
 For the little figure is approached first from D, next from 
 C, next from A, and last from E ; and in the last case the 
 figure itself is neatly varied by raising the pitch of its 
 initial note. 
 
 The principle of constant reiteration of a figure or a 
 rhythm to unify a movement is of familiar occurrence. 
 It is illustrated in the reiteration of a figure of accompani- 
 ment to long passages of free melody, as in the slow 
 movement of Bach's Italian concerto, and in the ori2:an 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 
 
 59 
 
 fantasia in C ; it is also illustrated in the familiar form of 
 the ground bass so often used by Lulli, Purcell, Stradella, 
 Bach, and others, which consists of the incessant repetition 
 of a short formula in the bass with the utmost variety of 
 melody, figure, harmony, and rhythm that the composer 
 can contrive in the upper parts. The device of reiteration 
 is also happily used to give a characteristic expression to 
 the whole of a movement, as in the first chorus of Dvorak's 
 " Spectre's Bride," and in the Nibelung music in Wagner's 
 "Bing;" and carrying implication to the utmost, the 
 same principle is the basis of the "variations" form, which 
 is simply the reiteration of a recognisable formula of 
 melody or harmony in various disguises. 
 
 Of the ways in which such reiteration may be managed 
 there are many examples in folk-music. One that in- 
 dicates a certain advance in artistic perceistion is the 
 reiteration of the same phrase at different levels, which 
 corresponds to the type known in more advanced music as 
 a sequence ; which indeed is one of the most important 
 devices known to composers for giving unity and intelligi- 
 bility to progressions, and is used constantly by every com- 
 poser of any mark from Lasso and Palestrina to Wagner. 
 
 The two following tunes from different parts of the 
 globe will serve to illustrate the primitive type. 
 
 The first is a Bussian peasant tune quoted in a book of 
 the last century : — 
 
 
 The second is English of the Elizabethan era : — 
 
6o MUSIC. 
 
 This last represents a much higher standard of musical 
 perception, as unity is maintained without strict unifor- 
 mity of one principle of procedure. Indeed there are a 
 considerable number of devices which imply design in this 
 tune which should not be overlooked. The closeness of 
 the first half to the central note C, and the wide range of 
 the second half, give an excellent principle of contrast ; 
 and the consistency of the principle of contrast is main- 
 tained by making the levels of the sequence close in the 
 first half and wide in the second; further, the ends of 
 each half are ingenious extensions of the principal figure, 
 and as each of them breaks the regularity of the repeti- 
 tions it throws the essential points of the structure into 
 relief; and as the first half ends on C, and the second on 
 the tonic F, the principle of contrast is carried out with 
 comprehensive variety ; and, what is of highest importance 
 in such a case, the tune is knit into complete unity by the 
 definiteness of the tonality. 
 
 The feature of defining design by tonality marks a con- 
 siderable advance in musical intelligence, as it implies a 
 capacity to recognise special notes as of central import- 
 ance in the scheme, and othei's as subordinate. In the 
 above example the C at the end of the first half has the 
 feeling of being a point of rest, though not a final point ; 
 but the F at the end is an absolute point of repose, and is 
 felt to round off the design completely. If the last note 
 had been G or E instead of F, the whole thing would have 
 sounded hazy and incomplete. This impression of finality 
 is produced solely by the feeling for the key, which is a 
 result of long human experience of certain types of pro- 
 gression and melody. In this individual instance the key 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 6i 
 
 is understood through the harmonic implications of the 
 melody; for the end implies what is called a regular 
 dominant-tonic cadence, and would probably not give the 
 effect of finality at all to musicians only accustomed to 
 melodic music. Indeed, the melodic systems are not well 
 adapted to such forms, since they have none of them any 
 stronp^ de finition of a tonic such as is characteristic of 
 harmonic music. The modern European system rests 
 upon~a systematisation of the scale which recognises cer- 
 tain notes as being final, and all the other notes as having 
 relative degrees of importance, while all have their special 
 "functions in determining design ; and this system is 
 perfectly invaluable for establishing the unity of a piece 
 of music. But it is purely the result of harmonic develop- 
 ment, for in all melodic systems the notes are more on an 
 equality. Their functions are not decisively fixed, and a 
 tune can begin or end with any note of the scale. This 
 makes it much more difiicult to establish the unity of a 
 piece of music, and the possibilities of variety in intelli- 
 gible designs are thereby limited. Indeed, long consistent 
 development of a single movement is impossible in pure 
 melodic music ; the resources of art are not various enough 
 to admit of it ; and even in short tunes, if the music is 
 to be fully intelligible in design, it has to be so without 
 the resource of a well-defined pair of contrasting points 
 like tonic and dominant. But on the other hand, melodic 
 systems admit of an arbitrary choice of any particular 
 note, which can be emphasised so persistently that it 
 takes rank as a sort of tonic. The pentatouic systems are 
 happy in this respect, because the definiteness of difference 
 in the relation between one pair of notes and another helps 
 the mind to fasten on special notes with ease, and to accept 
 them as of vital importance to the design. 
 
 The following Chinese tune will serve to illustrate this 
 device, us it is all threaded upon the single note D : — 
 
62 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 i 
 
 jj 
 
 m^^^ 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 ms 
 
 ^-- 
 
 ^^^^El 
 
 -^B^-(« 
 
 ^^ 
 
 B 
 
 ?2=r^ 
 
 =L^ 
 
 :^: 
 
 ^--^^^ 
 
 :-^^-; 
 
 It will also serve to illustrate again the same principles 
 as those illustrated by the Russian tune qnoted on p. 58, 
 as it is practically little more than a series of variations 
 on the figure of the first two bars. 
 
 A similar use of a note like a tonic is to be observed in 
 the following Indian tune, which will also be useful as 
 illustrating at once a capacity for contriving a longer sweep 
 of melody, and a higher sense for clear and decisive 
 balancing of contrasting phrases, and also the Oriental 
 love of ornamentation : — 
 
 A 
 
 tr 
 
 
 ^: 
 
 
 y-^^m^. 
 
 g^^E^J^^:^^' 
 
 ^^ 
 
 '-'=^^^- 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 63 
 
 Tlie Indians of the Orient contrive to make long pas- 
 sages of melody ; but the order of the recurrence of the 
 characteristic figures is very frequently incoherent. The 
 rondo type is, however, fairly common. But it must be 
 acknowledged that many of the tunes are not true 
 examples of folk-music, but rather of a conventional 
 art-music, whicli represents the skill of more or less 
 cultivated musicians. The ornamental qualities are char- 
 acteristic features of nearly all Oriental music, and demand 
 more than passing consideration. 
 
 With genuine Orientals the love of unmeaning deco- [ 
 rative ornamentation is excessive in every department of 
 mental activity, whether literature, art, or music. This 
 is gener ally a sign that the technical or manipulatory 
 skill is far in excess of the power of intellectual con- 
 centration. "Wlifu mental development and powers of 
 intellect and perception are too backward to grasp a 
 design of any intricacy or a conception that is not obvious 
 and comnaonplace, the human creature who is blessed with 
 facility of execution expends his powers in profusion of 
 superfluous flourishes. In European countries the type is 
 most commonly met with among popular operatic singers ; 
 but it is also plentiful among showy pianists, violinists, 
 and other virtuosi, who rejoice the hearts of those mem- 
 bers of the general public who are as unintelligent as 
 themselves. Indeed the truth is of much wider appli- 
 cation than merely to music; for it is noticeable that 
 people who delight in excess of ornament and decoration 
 are almost always of inferior intellectual power and orga- 
 nisation. Ornament is the part of anything which makes 
 for superficial effect. It may co-exist with a great deal 
 of force and fire, as in what is called Hungarian music, 
 which is really a gipsy development of Hungarian sub- 
 stance ; and it may be used as an additional means of 
 expression, as it is in some Scotch and Irish tunes ; but 
 
64 MUSIC. 
 
 when it is purely a matter of display, it generally im- 
 plies either undeveloped mental powers or great excess 
 of dexterity. The Siamese are among the most musical 
 nations, and most skilful in performance ; but their mental 
 development has only begun in comparatively recent 
 times, and the masses of the people are still childlike in 
 intellectual matters. A thoroughly competent observer 
 says that their vocal performances seem to be made of 
 nothing but trills and runs and shakes, and it is certainly 
 much the same with their instrumental music. The florid 
 character of Egyptian music is also notorious ; but the 
 most curious example of the sort is what is familiarly 
 known as Hungarian music. The original Hungarian 
 music is extraordinarily characteristic in rhythm and 
 vigorous in melody, but devoid of ornament. The 
 recognised musicians of Hungary are gipsies, who are of 
 Oriental descent, and are well known for their taste for 
 finery and ornamentation all the world over ; and in their 
 hands Hungarian music has become the most ornamental 
 thing of its kind that Europeans are acquainted with. The 
 ornaments are perfectly meaningless, except as implying 
 singular dexterity of manipulation and an extraordinary 
 aptitude for purely superficial invention in. the decorative 
 direction. The following is an example of parts of a 
 Hungarian tune, and of the version with the ornamentation 
 added by the gipsy performers. The beginning stands as 
 follows : — 
 
 _<<- 
 
 
 version. 
 
 Hungarian. 
 
 
 And the close : — 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 
 
 65 
 
 Nearly all the music of South-Eastern Europe ex- 
 hibits the same traits. The Roumanian folk-music and 
 dance-music is very vivid in neatness of phraseology ; 
 full of little trills and jerks, and characterised also by 
 quaint and rather plaintive intervals, such as are very 
 familiar in many Eastern quarters. The following frag- 
 ment is unusually simple iti part, but very characteristic 
 as a whole : — 
 
 
 Similar peculiarities, both of intervals and of orna- 
 ments, are shown in the tunes of Smyrna and the 
 islands of the Hellespont. And even in Spain, in the 
 southern districts, where traces of Oriental influence are 
 still to be met with in other lines besides music, a type 
 like the tunes of Eastern Europe is met with in combi- 
 nation with higher qualities of design. 
 
 Eacial differences, which imply different degrees of 
 emotionalism and imaginativeness, and different degrees of 
 the power of self-control in relation to exciting influences, 
 are shown very strongly in the folk-music of different 
 
66 MUSIC. 
 
 countries. No people attempt folk-tunes mechanically with- 
 out musical impulse. The very fact of musical utterance 
 implies a genuine expression of the nature of the human 
 being ; and is, in varying degrees, the revelation of what 
 the particular likings and tastes and sensibilities of that 
 being or group of beings really are. The natural music 
 of a demonstrative people is rhythmic and lively; of a 
 saturnine people, gloomy; of a melancholy and poetical 
 people, pathetic ; of a matter of fact people, simple, 
 direct, and unelaborated ; of a savage people, wild and 
 fierce ; of a lively people, merry and light ; of an earnest 
 people, dignified and noble. It remains so through all the 
 history of art ; and though the interchange of national 
 products has more or less assimilated the arts of certain 
 countries, the nature of man still governs his predilec- 
 tions, as is easily seen by the average differences of tastes 
 in art in such countries as Italy, France, and Germany. 
 
 Before discussing folk-music in general, certain cir- 
 cumstances have to be taken into consideration. A 
 large proportion of the tunes came into existence in 
 connection with poems and ballads which told some story 
 or tragic event of local interest, and each tune was 
 made to fit all the verses, whether they were cheerful 
 or tragical. Such a tune is likely to be little more than 
 a mere design, which might be very pleasant and com- 
 plete as design in itself, but would leave it to the singer 
 to put the necessary expression corresponding to the 
 varying sentiment of the words, by giving to a rise in 
 the melody the character of exultant happiness or poig- 
 nant anguish, and to a fall either reposeful satisfaction 
 or hopeless des^Dair. Any attempt to infuse strong- 
 expression into music makes the systematic management 
 of design more difficult, because it is liable to break 
 through the limitations which make design possible, and 
 to force the composer into climaxes and crises at moments 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 67 
 
 which are difficult to adapt to the general conventional 
 rules of orderliness. The greater part of the history of 
 music turns upon this very point; for composers have 
 been constantly attempting to enlarge their resources so 
 as to be able to bring more and more expression into 
 use without spoiling the consistency of the design. For, 
 as has been indicated in connection with the English 
 sequence tune (page 59), different principles of design 
 can be set off against one another ; and when the terms 
 of one principle of order are broken for any purpose, 
 such as expression or variety, they can, in advanced 
 states of art, be supplemented by some other principle 
 of form or expression. 
 
 The difficulty of introducing expression without spoil- 
 ing the design was felt as much by the makers of folk- 
 tunes as by composers of more advanced music ; and the 
 way in which nations looked at expression and design is 
 the source of the most deep-seated differences between 
 the different national products. Indeed the whole of the 
 folk-music of the world may be broadly classified into 
 two comprehensive divisions. On the one hand there are 
 all those tunes whose ostensible basis of intelligibility 
 is the arrangement of characteristic figures in patterns ; 
 and on the other all those which by very prominent 
 treatment of climaxes imply a certain excitement and 
 an emotional origin. The various national groups of 
 folk-music may be classified by the way they incline to 
 one or other of these types. No nation is restricted 
 entirely to one or the other, but the preponderance 
 with some nations is decisively in favour of emotional 
 tunes, and with others of formal tunes. The formal 
 tunes are the most primitive types, and also undoubtedly 
 the least interesting and beautiful. 
 
 Before proceeding, therefore, to the highest type of 
 folk-tune, it will be well to consider the universality of 
 
68 MUSIC. 
 
 certain simple principles of design in all brandies of folk- 
 music. The simplest arrangement is the alternation of 
 two characteristic figures in various patterns. The crude 
 attempt of savages to make some sort of pattern out of 
 two figures has been illustrated from the Macusis and 
 Feejees. A primitive but more successful pattern is the 
 following Eussian peasant's tune : — 
 
 112 2 
 
 Here are only two figures, as in the Macusi tune, but 
 the treatment implies an immense difference of artistic 
 sense ; for four principles of design are combined to give 
 the tune variety and unity — rhythmic contrast, melodic 
 contrast, and contrast of pitch, all held together by unity 
 of tonality. The tune centres on A, starting from it and 
 returning to it. The first half represents the part of the 
 scale which lies above A, and the second half the part 
 that lies below it. The rhythmic system is consistent, 
 but inverted; so that the characteristic anapaest comes 
 at the beginning of the phrases in the first half, and 
 at the end in the second. And a very neat little subtlety 
 is that the high note which completes the balance of 
 the two contrasting halves of the scale is obtained by a 
 slight variation of the principal figure. 
 
 To shorten the discussion of the principles upon which 
 such patterns are contrived it will be of service to take 
 the letter A to represent the figure or complete phrase 
 with which the tune begins, and B to represent the 
 second, and if there is a third to call it C, and so on. 
 The greater portion of the folk-tunes of the world are 
 simple patterns, based upon all possible interchanges of 
 strongly characteristic figures similar to the possible 
 combinations of A, B, or A, B, C, in symmetrical order. 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 
 
 69 
 
 It is truly extraordiuary what an amount of variety proves 
 to be possible. The simplest type of all is A, B, A, with- 
 out disguise. And of this there are literally thousands 
 of examples, ranging from very short phrases to long 
 passages like the arias of the old Italian operas. As 
 types of the most compact kind with slight variations 
 the followinor will serve : — 
 
 Huiifrarian. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ?E=:S=^ 
 
 W wl - 
 
 ^^S^=@i^E 
 
 m"^ 
 
 w J 
 
 ^r.^^^ 
 
 -1 ~1 
 
 
 1 
 
 -^-;i--^^=^ 
 
 j^ ^ 
 
 Poitevin. 
 
 B 
 
 SSlsSa 
 
 Welsh. 
 
 ^^ii^gii^^^ig 
 
 Frnm the mountains of Gah'cia in N.W. of Spain. 
 A 
 
 t^m 
 
 =f=p=t 
 
70 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 I 
 
 L-t: 
 
 i^zr: 
 
 :p=^ 
 
 -f— ^ 
 
 1^ 
 
 *=^: 
 
 =P-F- 
 
 :gz=^=rt 
 
 tr 
 
 -^" 
 
 :t=t 
 
 ■^— f=— f=^ 
 
 Every possible order that can give the impression of 
 balance is adopted; and special types of character are 
 often emphasised by the way in which particular figures 
 are insisted upon. The plaintiveness of the following old 
 Servian tune is intensified by harping on the phrase 
 that contains the curious augmented interval, and by the 
 ingenuity with which the accent is shifted in different 
 repetitions : — 
 
 i 
 
 :^fi=^z=g^ 
 
 la^z^ 
 
 -l^z 
 
 i^at 
 
 ti-f^i^r^ 
 
 v-h-r 
 
 ^i*:^ 
 
 S^^i^sg^l 
 
 B A A 
 
 As the sense for design grows stronger and skill in 
 
 putting things to effective issues improves, the repetitions 
 
 are varied to enhance the interest. The following for its 
 
 size is very comprehensive. It comes from Bas Quercy : — 
 
 Lento. A B 
 
 feSi 
 
 ^i=S; 
 
 Each clause ends on a different note except the first 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 71 
 
 and last, aud this gives a very strong impression of variety 
 in unity. 
 
 The device of repeating two different phrases succes- 
 sively (as A, A, B, B) is very familiar, and so is the alterna- 
 tion ending with the second phrase (A, B, A, B). Both of 
 these necessitate a feeling for tonality, as, without that the 
 unity would not be complete. In other words, the tonality 
 supplies the impression of unity, and the successive alter- 
 nations the contrast. When the tonality is not decisive 
 the effect is quaintly incoherent, as in the following Russian 
 tune : — 
 
 i 
 
 S^ 
 
 :1=f?: 
 
 :«zt 
 
 :e^ 
 
 ?ct 
 
 S^ 
 
 -•M^ 
 
 Of the same A, A, B, B, with a little coda to strengthen 
 the close and give the impression of unity, the old form 
 of the tune " In dulci jubilo " is a good instance : — 
 
 MS. 
 ■ . 
 
 of A.D. 1305. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 '1 H 
 
 
 
 \ ' ' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 P^h 
 
 
 
 ~1 i 
 
 A 
 
 1 
 
 ^ rD ^ 
 
 B 
 
 B:^== 
 
 -A-^-A- 
 
 
 — 'S^~r 
 
 ^-h-^^-f^- 
 
 -^ ^ ^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■ -.^ 
 
 B 
 
 Coda. 
 
 ^t— d=;^=d= 
 
 — tX 
 
 
 
 
 - 
 
 
 " V 
 
 ^-J-^-g^- 
 
 :— iJ^t— U 
 
 An illustration of A, B, A, B, with a variation of B to 
 strengthen the close, is the following Slavonic tune : — 
 
72 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 
 E^Si^^ 
 
 
 In the more highly organised types the simplicity of 
 such methods of procedure is very much disguised. Very 
 often the figures are not repeated in their entirety, but 
 only characteristic portions of them, especially those por- 
 tions which occupy the most prominent positions, such as 
 the first part of the phrase or the figures of the cadence. 
 
 In the most highly organised examples also the phrases 
 become much longer, and are subject to variations which 
 strengthen the design to a remarkable degree. A fine 
 instance is the following- Scotch tune : — 
 
 
 
 -d=Fi 
 
 
 
 B 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 4. 
 
 m^ 
 
 -T- 
 
 -J: 
 
 ~9~ 
 
 
 , 
 
 B 
 
 
 , 
 
 
 Bi 
 
 
 Ai 
 
 
 
 Ai 
 
 A- 
 
 
 :i^g=^^V:^i:=Si 
 
 In this the effect of contrast between A and B is mainly 
 achieved by difference of position in the scale, as B is 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 73 
 
 almost entirely composed of fragments and variations of 
 fragments of A ; so that the whole tune is knit together 
 with the utmost closeness. Tonality, relation of pitch, 
 rhythm, and characteristic figures of melody are all used 
 with remarkable skill to attain the end of variety of con- 
 trast within unity. A tune of this sort indicates a great 
 power of mental concentration in the nation which pro- 
 duces it; but the elaborate ingenuity with which it is 
 knit together is by no means rare. Nearly all strong and 
 responsible races possess tunes of this kind, which will 
 bear a very careful analysis in every detail. 
 
 But by way of contrast it will be well to take a passing 
 glance at the tunes of advanced but less concentrated races. 
 In southern countries the impulse is neither towards con- 
 centration of design nor often towards any degree of expres- 
 sion. Very simple forms are met with, such as the Galician 
 tune on page 69. But in the more highly organised tunes 
 there is often but little consistency. The song is a sort 
 of wild utterance of impulse by the type of creatures 
 who do not criticise but only enjoy. The Basques have 
 extraordinarily long rambling tunes, which in a sort of 
 vague way suggest disposition of materials like those 
 above described (A, B, A, &c.). But there is no closeness 
 of texture as in the Scotch tune, nor is any concentration 
 of mind shown by any feature of form or idea. In some 
 Spanish tunes there is a sort of luxury of irregularity 
 which may be illustrated in a small space in the following 
 example from the neighbourhood of Barcelona : — 
 
 fe: 
 
 T=^- 
 
 w 
 
 ^-Mz 
 
 gag^= fl S^ 
 
 -P-P- 
 
 iE^^feE 
 
 I^§zE=^^P_EEeS3ES 
 
 When analysed at close quarters there are some interesting 
 
74 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 and subtle principles of cohesion even in this tune, but 
 the general effect produced is a sort of careless aban- 
 donment to impulse. A characteristic feature of Spanish 
 folk-tunes is a curious jerk which commonly occurs at 
 the end of phrases ; and this not only appears in tunes 
 from various districts of Spain, but has crossed the seas 
 and continues to appear in places where the Spaniards 
 were once masters, as in Sicily and in South America. 
 A very characteristic example of this very feature comes 
 from Vera Cruz in Mexico : — 
 
 :§=^J: 
 
 
 tj 
 
 S:^ 
 
 S^^ 
 
 § 
 
 ^ 
 
 I — I ^ ^ F I K ^jB^l^ J I ^j l *-^- 1-* 
 
 u 
 
 There is very little of close-knit orderliness about this 
 tune, but it is a good illustration of an impulsive ty[3e, 
 and the sequence in the second half illustrates the same 
 principle of cohesion as in the Eussian and English tunes 
 on page 59. As an illustration of the Spanish jerk from 
 Sicily a small fragment will suffice : — 
 
 $ 
 
 m 
 
 The Italians also possess this jerk ; possibly it remains 
 as a relic of former Spanish occupation. The indolent 
 insouciance of their tunes is familiar. They are some- 
 
rOLK-MUSIC 75 
 
 times cast on very simple liues, but a biglily organised 
 and closely knit example would be harder to find in Italian 
 tlian in almost any branch of national folk-music. 
 
 Passing on to more reserved and self-contained but 
 highly reflective races, folk-music is found to become 
 more and more simple and plain. There is an enormous 
 quantity of genuine early German folk-music; but it is 
 quite singularly deficient in vividness of any kind, and of 
 marked characteristics in the way of eccentric intervals 
 or striking rhythms. Expression is sometimes aimed at, 
 but always in a self-contained manner ; that is, in such a 
 manner that both the outline of the melody and the general 
 distribution of its phrases adapt themselves to closely cohe- 
 rent and intelligible principles of design ; and the designs 
 themselves are on an average of a higher order and re- 
 present higher powers of intelligence than the tunes of 
 other nations which in actual material are more attractive. 
 There are certain obvious features which show an incli- 
 nation for coherence and completeness of design. In a 
 very large majority of tunes the first couple of phrases — 
 making, as it were, the first complete musical sentence — 
 is repeated, thereby giving the strong sense of structural 
 stability. The middle portion of the tune often provides 
 contrast to the stability of the first portion by being 
 broken up into shorter lengths, or by being poised upon 
 different centres and notes of the scale ; and the final 
 portion is very frequently marked by a singular melisma 
 or grave flourish in the final cadence, which serves to 
 give weight and firmness to the return to the most 
 important note of the song, which clinches the design into 
 completeness. This melismatic device is one of the most 
 characteristic features of old German songs, and is of 
 course an ornamental process ; but it is generally applied 
 with great sense of expressive effect, and never gives the 
 impression of being introduced for the sake of display. 
 
76 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 A tune, which was printed at least as early as 1535, will 
 serve to illustrate most of these points : — 
 
 J 
 
 1^=5=: 
 
 s 
 
 ■^± 
 
 ^-^ 
 
 :^=s± 
 
 Wol - anff wol-anff mit lau - ter stimra, 
 Wer uoch bei sei - iiem bu - leu ligt, 
 
 Thut uns der 
 Dermach sich 
 
 i 
 
 
 5=22=^: 
 
 S 
 
 :^=^ 
 
 Wech - ter sing - eu. 
 bald voii liiu - iieu. 
 
 i 
 
 2^: 
 
 :^ 
 
 jen - rot, 
 H 
 
 Wol 
 I 
 
 T=^-=l- 
 
 ^=21 
 
 s 
 
 1^=22: 
 
 ^- 
 
 -a^-«- 
 
 1^ 
 
 trin 
 
 Besides the points above mentioned, the tune indi- 
 cates a fine sense for knitting things together, by ■]}xe- 
 senting a formula of melody and rhythm successively in 
 different phases. The portion of the second phrase 
 marked C is derived from B (by imitating its diatonic 
 upward motion) ; and in its turn it serves as the basis for 
 the whole of the middle part E and F, by appearing in 
 successive repetitious in a rising sequence. Again, the 
 passage marked H, and the whole of the final cadence K, 
 are successive variations of the last bar but four, G, which 
 is in itself a kind of mixture of A and D. And it is most 
 noteworthy that in the course of the repetition the figure G 
 grows more like D, till at K it gives the impression of 
 being a perfect counterpart to the cadence of the first 
 half of the tune ; and the impression is enhanced by the 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 77 
 
 introduction of the little parenthesis I, which at the same 
 time neatly defers the last recurrence of the highest note 
 of the song, so that it shall not come three times running 
 in the same rhythmic position. 
 
 Other points which are characteristic of German folk- 
 music are the irregularity of the rhythm, in mixing up 
 threes and fours, the diatonic and serious nature of the 
 tunes, and the absence of any obvious sense of vivid 
 rhythm. The impression produced by a large range of 
 these tuues is far more intellectual and responsible than 
 is the case with southern tunes, and they admit of closer 
 analysis. This implies a race that takes things more 
 seriously, and instinctively makes for something that will 
 stand the test of close and frequent scrutiny and endure. 
 The light-heartedness and excitability of southern races 
 makes them care less for the element of permanence, 
 which is one of the essential objects of art (see p. 2), 
 and they place themselves in an attitude of receptivity 
 to the pleasures which appeal to them most quickly, and 
 rather resent the attitude of instinctive reserve which 
 makes men hesitate to abandon themselves to an im- 
 pression before they have to a certain extent tested its 
 soundness. 
 
 Permanence in a work of art depends to a great extent 
 on its being able to stand the test of frequent scrutiny 
 without betraying serious flaws ; and this is only obtained 
 by considerable concentration of faculty and self-restraint. 
 Folk-music is often most successful in abandonment to 
 impulse, but the type of human being which takes even 
 its folk-songs seriously is likely to succeed best in higher 
 ranges of pure art work ; and it may be confessed that 
 the relative standards of later art in various countries 
 are the natural result of qualities which betray them- 
 selves in genuine folk-music. With regard to principles 
 of design in general, it may be said that Germans rarely 
 
78 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 adopt the plan of consecutively reiterating short phrases, 
 either simply or with variations, like the Eussian and 
 Oriental examples quoted. When they repeat phrases it 
 is either to re-establish a balance after contrast, as in the 
 rondo form, or to make essential parts of the structure 
 correspond, as in the tune above quoted. The close of 
 the whole often corresponds to the close of the first half, 
 and sometimes the whole of the first half is repeated at 
 the conclusion of the tune ; and at times the tune aj)pears 
 to have very high qualities of design which defy anything 
 but a very close analysis. As an examijle of this type 
 the following especially beautiful tune is worth quoting : — 
 
 te 
 
 kienkt sicli nacli ilir 
 
 diir-umb ich gem auff all deiu er liilff 
 
 :^[: 
 
 ^- 
 
 t) 
 
 ich liab' iiit trcis 
 
 tes iiier. 
 
 This is obviously a strong emotional utterance, and the 
 chief basis of form is the alternation of implied tonics — 
 alternately F and D — as if the keys were major and rela- 
 tive minor ; which is an alternation very often met with 
 in folk-music, specially amongst northern peojoles, such as 
 the Scandinavians. Then there is the contrast of long 
 sweeping phrases and short broken ones ; the variety of 
 
FOLK -MUSIC. 
 
 70 
 
 the closing notes of each phrase ; the long sweep of the 
 opening and closing phrases, which are thereby made to 
 match ; and the subtle balance of the curves which con- 
 stitute the melody. 
 
 Characteristic formulas are rather rare in German folk- 
 music. The most noticeable in old folk-tunes is a curious 
 pathetic rise up to the minor seventh of the scale through 
 the fifth. Many tunes begin in this way, as — 
 
 i 
 
 :1=^: 
 
 -^—^=r-^j- 
 
 --^ 
 
 And ao'ain 
 
 -^^=^- 
 
 The same interval occurs in Scandinavian tunes, as in 
 the following from Upland : — 
 
 1^ 
 
 In more modern German folk-music the influence of 
 harmony becomes strongly apparent. Harmony repre- 
 sents the higher standard of intellectuality in mankind, 
 and the Germans have always had more feeling for it 
 than soutliern races. In folk-music the harmonic basis 
 is of course very simple and obvious, but it is very 
 apparent, and shows itself even in a strong inclination 
 to construct melodies on the basis of aq^eggios. The 
 Tyrolese adopt arpeggios for their singular jodels, which 
 are the most ornamental forms of vocal music in Teu- 
 tonic countries. In their case, however, the excess 
 of decoration does not so much imply low organisation 
 or superficial character, but rather the very exuberance 
 and joy of life in the echoing mountains; and the physical 
 
8o 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 effect which mountain life has upon them is shown by 
 the extraordinarily wide compass of their songs. The 
 arpeggio form of melody was found out very early in 
 pastoral districts of Germany through the help of the 
 horn. The following is part of a " cow-horn " tune of 
 the fourteenth century, from Salzburg : — 
 
 i 
 
 ^~^=^- 
 
 1 
 
 =?2 
 
 5 
 
 The folk-tunes of England present much the same 
 features as the German tunes. There is next to no 
 superfluous ornamentation about them, but a simple 
 directness, such as characterises most northern folk- 
 tunes. As in the German tunes, there is an absence 
 both of eccentric intervals and of striking and energetic 
 rhythms. There are plenty of dance tunes, but like the 
 German and Dutch and Scandinavian tunes, they rather 
 imply an equal flow of contented and joyous spirits than 
 the vehement gestures, the stamping, and the concen- 
 tration of muscular energy which are represented by the 
 dance tunes of many southern races and of savages. In 
 a very large proportion of the tunes there are clear evi- 
 dences of a liking for simple and definite design, which 
 is shown in the orderly arrangement of characteristic 
 phrases. The most familiar form is singularly like a 
 form prevalent in German tunes, which consists of the 
 repetition of the first phrase for balance and stability, 
 then a contrasting phrase, and finally a return to the first 
 phrase, or a part of it, to conclude with ; and this prin- 
 ciple of design underlies many in which it is just shaded 
 off so as to conceal its obviousness. The following is a 
 concise example to the point : — 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 
 
 8i 
 
 i 
 
 ^^=^ 
 
 t=t 
 
 -^-^- 
 
 Ti 
 
 1 A 
 
 It is worth uotiug- that the final repetition of A is effec- 
 tively varied by the interruption of the parenthesis C, 
 just in the same manner and in the same place that the 
 recurrence of the high note is deferred at I in the German 
 tune on page j6. There are far more instances of reitera- 
 tion of short figures in English than in German tunes, 
 and a single figure varied or given at different positions 
 in the scale sometimes does duty for the whole tune. 
 An extremely characteristic example, in which there is 
 a large quantity of such reiteration, is the well-known 
 " Carman's Whistle : " — 
 
 S35 
 
 B B 
 
 ^ 
 
 :1^: 
 
 -^-^ 
 
 i^^m 
 
 ^ 
 
 S 
 
 ^=J-- 
 
 :=1^ 
 
 35 
 
 ^^=^- 
 
 g=^ 
 
 a^: 
 
 H=q- 
 
 ^^ 
 
 ^^^. 
 
 = =^ 
 
 ^- 
 
 B33 
 
 Features of these kinds make the tunes rather more 
 human than a large proportion of German tunes, but, as 
 might be expected, there is very little of strong emotional 
 
82 MUSIC. 
 
 expression iu English folk-music, except in such rare 
 examples as "The Poor Soul sat sighing," and "Willow 
 willow ; " there is, however, a good deal of expression 
 of a less powerful kind — gaiety, humour, tenderness, and 
 playfulness; but pathos is rare, and morbid or feverish 
 passion is entirely absent. The more genuinely English 
 the folk-music, the more it breathes the genuine love of 
 country, of freedom, of action and heartiness. From the 
 wonderful early tune " Sumer is icumen in " to the few 
 uncontaminated examples of the present day the same 
 qualities of style are apparent — a style which gay nations 
 would call too plain and matter of fact, but infused with 
 much more character and showing more genuine taste, 
 freshness, and variety than almost any but those of the 
 very highest standard. 
 [ So far the process of development is very easily followed. 
 The savage stage indicates a taste for design, but an 
 incapacity for making the designs consistent and logical ; 
 in the lowest intelligent stage the capacity for disposing 
 short contrasting figures in an orderly and intelligent 
 way is shown ; in the highest phase of the pattern-type of 
 folk-tune the instinct for knitting things closely together 
 is shown to be very remarkable ; and the organisation of 
 the tunes becomes completely consistent from every point 
 of view. A higher phase still is that in which the skill in 
 distributing the figures in symmetrical patterns is applied 
 to the ends of emotional expression. 
 
 The tunes which imply an emotional impulse indicate 
 it by the manner in which the rise to a high note is made 
 the conspicuous feature of the tune. The difference 
 between high and low organisation is shown iu much the 
 same way as in pattern-tunes. In the low standards of 
 pattern-tunes there are but few principles of cohesion ; in 
 the highly organised ones (such as the Scotch tune on 
 page 72) there are many interlaced. Similarly in emo- 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 
 
 S3 
 
 tioual times of the lowest grade tliere is ouly one climax, 
 in the most highly organised tunes there are many, and 
 in the best there is a steady gradation of climaxes ; so 
 that the higher points succeed one another in such a way 
 as to make the emotional expression of the tune stronger 
 at successive moments. 
 
 It is very common, even in tunes which have the general 
 character belonging to the pattern order, to make a special 
 rise to the highest point in the middle, or early in the 
 latter part of the tune (e.ff., " Weel may the keel row "). 
 Hungarian tunes illustrate both types very happily; and 
 of course the finest tunes in the world combine the emo- 
 tional aspect with the finest adjustment of design. With 
 the Hungarians both the dance tunes and vocal tunes 
 are so full of energetic intervals and rhythms that even 
 when there are no crises the impression produced is often 
 emotional. Many Scotch tunes are in the same category. 
 The latter branch of folk-music affords many examples of 
 fine emotional tunes. Indeed, for the simple type of tune 
 combining emotional crises with very distinct and simple 
 form, it would be difficult to find anything better than 
 
 the following: — • 
 
 A 
 Slozo. 
 
 ^^E^^^g 
 
84 MUSIC. 
 
 The successive sweeps up to the high note in the first 
 half lead beautifully to the pathetic F natural in the 
 second half, and the expression is finely intensified by 
 the rise to the highest crisis on G immediately after. 
 
 As a very characteristic example from a different part 
 of the world, the following from Murcia, in the south of 
 Spain, is worth examining : — ■ 
 
 Slow. 
 
 gii^siiEiii^i^spi 
 
 ^^^m^^^mi^m 
 
 The rises and falls are singularly systematic, and the 
 relations of the different points are admirably diversified, 
 and always well calculated both for relative contrast and 
 human expression. 
 
 Irish folk-music — probably the most human, most 
 varied, most poetical, and most imaginative in the world 
 — is particularly rich in tunes which imply considerable 
 sympathetic sensitiveness; and the Anglo-Scotch border 
 folk-music is not far behind. In many tunes of these 
 districts the very design itself seems to be the result of 
 the sensibility of the human creature. The cumulation of 
 crises rising higher and higher is essentially an emotional 
 basis of design. The rise and fall and rise again is the 
 process of uttering an expressive cry, and the relaxation 
 of tension during which the human creature is gather- 
 ing itself together for a still more expressive cry. The 
 Murcian tune is grood in this respect, but as a simple 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 
 
 ss 
 
 emotional type the following Irish tune is one of the most 
 perfect in existence : — 
 
 B 
 
 ^^^^^ 
 
 a-H^i 
 
 4-^- 
 
 N^^^S^^S^ 
 
 P^ 
 
 E 
 
 w^m 
 
 -^^tt 
 
 e 
 
 s^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 pn 
 
 The extreme crisis is held in reserve till the last. In the 
 first half of the tune the voice moves in low ranges of 
 expression, rising successively to the very moderate crises 
 A and B. The portion in bracket is merely a repetition 
 of the phrases A and B, with slight additions of ornament 
 and a different close, the artistic point of which it is not 
 necessary to discuss here. At the beginning of the second 
 half the voice begins to mount to its higher crisis at C, 
 and intensifies that point by repetition at D, and finally 
 leaps to its uttermost passion at E, and then falls with a 
 wide sweep (comprising one more moderate crisis) to the 
 final cadence. AVithin the limits of a folk-tune it is 
 hardly possible to deal with the successive crises more 
 effectively. 
 
 As art-music grows and pervades the world pure folk- 
 music tends to go out of use among the people. Reflections 
 of respectable taste invade the homes of the masses more 
 and more, and familiar fragments which are adopted from 
 various sources by purveyors of tunes for light popular 
 
86 MUSIC. 
 
 operas and such gay entertainments. Civilisation reduces 
 everything to a common level, and " the people " cease 
 to make their own tunes, and accept vulgarised and 
 weakened portions of the music of the leisured classes, 
 and of those who wish to be like them. The rapid ex- 
 tinction of the tunes which successively catch the people's 
 ears as compared with the long life of those that went 
 to their hearts in old days, is an excellent vindication of 
 the fact that what is to be permanent needs a genuine 
 impulse in feeling as well as the design which makes it 
 intelligible. True folk-music is an outcome of the whole- 
 man, as is the case with all that is really valuable as 
 art. The features which give it its chief artistic and 
 historical importance (apart from its genuine delightful- 
 ness) are those which manifest the working of the per- 
 fectly unconscious instinct for design, and those in which 
 the emotional and intellectual basis of the art is illus- 
 trated by the qualities of the tunes which correspond with 
 the known characters of the nations and peoples wlio 
 invent them. Folk-tunes are the first essays made by 
 man in distributing bis notes so as to express his feel- 
 ings in terms of design. Highly sensitive races express 
 themselves with high degrees of emotional force and 
 variety of form; placid races show perfect content in 
 simple design with little meaning; races of moderate 
 intelligence who have considerable skill in manipulation 
 and love of effect introduce much ornamentation ; serious 
 and strong races, and those with much reserve of disposi- 
 tion, produce very simple and dignified tunes ; and so on 
 in varying degrees. Modes of life and climatic condi- 
 tions all tell upon the product, and ultimately colour in 
 no little degree the larger artistic developments which 
 are the counteq^arts of these slender beginnings. Folk- 
 music is an epitome of the principles upon which musical 
 art is founded ; and though a long period elapsed from 
 
FOLK-MUSIC. 87 
 
 the poiut where conscious artistic music began, when 
 musicians were busy with other problems than those of 
 design ; when the art had progressed far enough for 
 them to concentrate attention on design again, the same 
 principles which appear in folk-music were instinctively 
 adoj)ted in all the forms of mature art. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 INCIPIENT HARMONY. 
 
 It can hardly be doubted that music was called into 
 existence by religious feelings as soon as by any of which 
 human creatures are capable. Even the most primitive 
 rites are accompanied by something of the nature of 
 music, and the religious states of awe and wonder and 
 ecstasy and devotion are all familiarly liable to engender 
 musical utterance. The relation of religion to various 
 arts varies with its principles and objects, and with the 
 dispositions of the people who profess it. The religion of 
 the ancient Greeks comprised everything which expressed 
 the emotional inner being of man — such as dances, thea- 
 trical performances, orgies, and an infinite variety of 
 curious ceremonies which combined every phase of what 
 a man in modern times would consider essentially secular 
 feelings. Similarly many religions, of all times and types, 
 comprise dancing of a frenzied description, and functions 
 which call forth the most savage instincts of the human 
 creature. In such cases the music is not limited to things 
 which a modern Christian would regard as suitable for 
 church purposes ; for the Christian religion is distinguished 
 from all others by its inwardness and quietude, and the 
 absence of any outward energetic signs of excitement ; 
 and it is only on rare occasions that eccentric outbursts 
 of ecstatic fervour in any of its professors find utterance 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY. 89 
 
 in lively gesticulations or rhytlmiic dance. From the 
 very first the spirit of the religion was most perfectly 
 and completely reproduced in its music, and even its 
 various phases in many succeeding centuries are exactly 
 pictured in the art which most closely presents the 
 spiritual side of man. 
 
 In the early middle ages the warlike priest was not 
 an unfamiliar object ; but nevertheless the spirit of the 
 religion and religious life was essentially devotional and 
 contemplative ; a nd it followed thn,t nil thp innsir: pmpln yed 
 i n _ church ceremonies was vocal or choral, and almo st 
 totally devoid of an y rhythmic quality or anything w hich 
 r epresented gesticulatory expression . This state of things 
 was eminently favourable to the development of certain 
 artistic features which were a necessary preliminary to the 
 ultimate building up of the modern musical art. Dance 
 music demands very little in the way of harmony. The 
 world could go on dancing to the end of time without it ; 
 and whatever harmony is added to pure dance tunes, even 
 in days of advanced art, is generally of the simplest and 
 most obvious description. But vague melodic music, and 
 vocal music which is sung by voices of different pitch, 
 seem to call imperatively for the help of harmony ; and 
 unless the instinctive craving for choral harmony had led 
 men to overcome its initial difficulties, the art could never 
 have developed that particular kind of regularity in time 
 which is independent of dance rhythm. It was the 
 necessity of regulating the amount of time which should 
 be allowed to particular notes when singers sang together, 
 which brought about the invention of the standards of 
 relative duration of notes, and the whole system of breves, 
 semibreves, minims, and crotchets ; and also that of the 
 time signatures ; which do not necessarily imply rhythm, 
 but supply the only means by which various performers 
 can be kept together, and irregular distribution of long 
 
A 
 
 90 MUSIC. 
 
 and short notes made orderly and coherent. It is per- 
 fectly easy to keep instruments or voices together when 
 the music is regulated by a dance rhythm, but in pure 
 choral music, such as was cultivated from the tenth cen- 
 tury till the sixteenth, one of the most beautiful effects, 
 which composers sought after most keenly, was the 
 gliding from harmony to harmony by steps which were 
 so hidden that the mind was willingly deceived into 
 thinking that they melted into one another. The mystery 
 was effected by making some of the voices which sang 
 the harmony move and make a new harmony, while the 
 others held the notes that belonged to the previous 
 harmony ; so that the continuity of the sound was main- 
 tained though the chords changed. This would have 
 been impossible without some means of indicating the 
 duration of the notes, and no style could so soon have 
 brought men to face the necessity of solving the problem 
 as the growing elaboration of choral music, of that un- 
 rhythmic kind which was the natural outcome of religious 
 feeling of the Christian devotional type. 
 
 It is very remarkable how soon after the first definite 
 appearance of Christian Church music as a historical 
 fact men began to move in the direction of harmony. 
 The harmonic phase of music has been exactly coeval with 
 the development of that particular kind of intellectual 
 disposition, which continued to manifest itself more 
 and more, as modern Europe slowly emerged from the 
 chaos which followed the collapse of the Roman Empire. 
 It is as if harmony — the higher intellectual factor in 
 music — began with the first glimmerings of modern 
 mental development, and grew more and more elaborate 
 and comprehensive, and more adapted to high degrees of 
 expression and design simultaneously with the growth 
 of men's intellectual powers. As long as the Church 
 reigned supreme harmony remained more or less in the 
 
IXCIPIENT HARMONY. gi 
 
 background, and made its appearance mainly as the result 
 of the combination of the separate melodies which various 
 voices sung at once. But towards the end of the six- 
 teenth century it began to assert itself as the basis of 
 certain new principles of design, and in the succeeding 
 century, as secular life grew more and more independent 
 of ecclesiastical influences, it became more and more the 
 centre and basis upon which the whole system of artistic 
 musical design was founded ; and it ultimately became 
 not only the essence of the structure, but a higher and 
 richer means of expression than was possible by the 
 subtlest and most perfect treatment of any other kind of 
 musical device. 
 
 But the first steps in this important development were 
 slowly and jjainfully achieved under the influence of the 
 ancient church. There seems no reason to doubt that the 
 music used in the early Christian ritual was of Greek origin, ^ 
 and that certain traditional formulas for different parts 
 of the service had been handed down from generation to 
 generation by ear. These were certainly quite unrhythmic 
 and rather indefinite ; but the circumstances under which 
 they were used were favourable to their preservation, 
 notwithstanding the difiiculty which such vagueness puts 
 in the way of accuracy. For anything which is part of a 
 ritual has a tendency to be very carefully guarded, and 
 in course of time to be strictly stereotyped ; because 
 whatever people hear and see when they are in the act 
 of worship seems to share the sacredness of the function, 
 and ultimately becomes itself a sacred thing which it is 
 profanation to meddle with. But nevertheless it was 
 inevitable that after the lapse of a few centuries the prac- 
 tice of different churches should have ceased to be quite 
 uniform, and the authorities of the Church endeavoured 
 in the fourth and sixth centuries to give special sanction 
 to the traditions which appeared to have the best creden- 
 
92 MUSIC. 
 
 tials. It was then that the connection of the music of 
 the Church with the ancient Greek system was definitely- 
 acknowledged, and though the regulations for systema- 
 tising the art did not quite agree with the Greek sys- 
 tem, owing to lack of opportunity to discover exactly 
 what that was, the slight discrepancies did not affect the 
 artistic consequences that followed. The Ambrosian and 
 Gregorian schemes included a number of vocal formulas, 
 consisting of traditional melodies, which became the basis 
 of an extraordinarily prolonged and comprehensive de- 
 velopment. They were the few established facts of 
 musical art then existing, and upon them the fabric of 
 modern music soon began to be built. 
 
 The immediate source of a most important new de- 
 parture seems to have been the simjDle fact that men's 
 voices were of different calibres ; for as some were deep 
 basses and some high tenors, and some between the two, 
 it was manifestly inconvenient that they should all sing 
 their plain song at the same pitch. Some could not sing 
 it high, and some could not sing it low. In extreme 
 cases low basses and high tenors could sing an octave 
 apart, but as a rule that was too wide for convenience, 
 so men had to find some other relation of pitch at which 
 it would be convenient to sing the plain song or chants 
 simultaneously. In such a case it is of first importance 
 to find a relation of pitch which shall sound agreeable in 
 itself, and also one which would not cause certain notes 
 of one part in the reduplicated melody to jar with certain 
 notes in the other part. It must be clearly understood 
 that such a process of doubling was not what is called 
 singing in thirds or sixths in modern times. When people 
 sing in that manner now they do not each sing the same 
 melody. The upper voice takes the melody, and the lower 
 adds major or minor thirds, and sings tones or semitones, 
 according to the nature of the scale or key in which the 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY. 93 
 
 music is written. Tlius if two voices siug the following 
 
 A B 
 
 simple succession of notes togetlier, -Q -J-^ n^ftJ—gl- 
 
 m 
 
 it is not a reduplication of melodies, but a process of 
 harmonisatiou. The upper voice sings a semitone in the 
 first step, A, where the lower sings a whole tone ; and in 
 the last step, B, the upper voice sings a whole tone where 
 the lower sings a semitone. If the melodies were justly 
 reduplicated at the third, the result would be as follows, 
 
 ^ J l~ -' P '^f^ f- — Such a progression would have 
 
 tr-t 
 
 the tones and semitones in the same places in both 
 melodies, but the effect would be hideous to modern ears, 
 and impossible to early mediaeval musicians, because they 
 had not developed their scale enough to comprise such 
 conflicting accidentals. And the same difficulties present 
 themselves with all the interv^als that they could have 
 chosen except two, which are the fifth and the fourth. 
 It also happens that the human mind is so slow to develop 
 any understanding of the effect of harmony, that men 
 only learned to endure some of the simplest combinations 
 by slow degrees. The combination in which there is the 
 least element of discordance after the octave is the fifth, 
 
 and after that the fourth, ^ g - And these 
 
 two were the first which men learned to endure with 
 equanimity. It took them centuries to settle down to 
 the comfortable acceptance of such familiar combinations 
 as thirds and sixths, and it took fully a thousand years 
 after their sense of harmony had begun to dawn before 
 they could accept the simplest discords without some 
 preliminary devices to save the ear from being too roughly 
 
94 MUSIC. 
 
 assailed by the sudden jar. It is a pregnant fact that 
 the process has gone on till the present day, and the 
 combinations which human ears accept without prelimi- 
 nary and without protest have been largely added to in 
 the present century. In later times the progress has 
 been more and more rapid, but in early times it was 
 most astonishingly slow. Men allowed some of our most 
 familiar combinations as notes of jDassage — purely sub- 
 ordinate details — and by their use in that manner they 
 became accustomed to the sound of them ; but they were 
 very long in coming to the state of musical intelligence 
 which recognises even a third as a stable and final com- 
 bination. The test of complete satisfactoriness for any 
 interval is the possibility of leaving off upon it without 
 giving a sense of artistic incompleteness and a desire in 
 the mind for something further. In modern times no chord 
 is complete at the end of a composition which does not 
 contain a third ; but the mediasval musicians could not 
 even put up with it in the final chord till the art had un- 
 dergone some five centuries of development. Its relative 
 roughness had much the same effect that a discord has to 
 modern ears ; and so whereas in modern times a man feels 
 that he wants something more when he is without it, in 
 mediseval times he would have wanted something more 
 because he had got it. 
 
 These complicated circumstances produced the result 
 that when men first tried singing anything but pure 
 melody in one line at a time, they doubled the melody 
 at the fifth above or the fourth below. This result 
 seems hideous to modern ears, since fifths have acquired 
 a new significance in the development of harmonic music. 
 But to people whose minds are chiefly concerned with 
 melodic effects it still seems a natural procedure. Not 
 only is it sometimes adopted in modern Europe by singers 
 in the streets and by other people of low musical intelli- 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY. 95 
 
 gence, but a most trustworthy observer states that the 
 same phase of reduplication is beginning to be adopted in 
 Japan, and is the only thing approaching to harmony 
 which is used in genuine Japanese music. If Japanese 
 music is spared the contamination of European popular 
 music it will probably go through the same phases as 
 early mediseval music, and the Japanese sense of harmony 
 will develop in the same manner as that of Europeans did 
 long ago. 
 
 It is well to keep clearly in mind that this new depar- 
 ture did not really amount to harmonisation, nor did it 
 imply a sense for harmony. In the beginning it was 
 merely the doubling of a melody, just like the familiar 
 doubling at the octave in modern times, but at intervals 
 which were less wide apart. Harmonisation implies the 
 understanding of the relations of different chords or com- 
 binations to one another. Human creatures had to go 
 through a long probationary period, and to get accustomed 
 to the sounds of chords in themselves, before they could 
 begin instinctively to classify them in the manner in which 
 they ultimately came to serve as the basis of modern 
 harmonic art. 
 
 Men began to move in the direction of real effects of 
 harmony when, instead of making their voices go in strict 
 parallels at some definite interval apart, they began to 
 mix up different intervals together. The way in which 
 this was at first effected was chiefly by interchanging 
 fifths, fourths, and octaves or unisons; and by the use 
 of stationary notes (such as are commonly described in 
 modern times as pedals), as an accompaniment to plain- 
 song. The following will illustrate their skill, about the 
 tenth century, in varying the monotony of consecutive 
 fifths or fourths : — 
 
96 MUSIC. 
 
 s^ 
 
 22=22=^ 
 
 ^-^^^-"^-^=^=^^^2=^12^1 
 
 221 
 
 Te hu - mi - les fa - mu - li mo - du - lis ven - er - an - do pi - is. 
 
 P 
 
 G>S>-<S—<SS'—^—^—&>- 
 
 -^-<^^c?-^-c?- 
 
 54 44 4411 
 
 This passage as far as the asterisk is merely the plain 
 chant accompanied by a pedal (the same device as the 
 drone which has been familiar for ages), which does not 
 constitute or imply harmony. From that point there 
 are only three intervals which do not accord with the 
 ancient and crude principle of the " organum " — the 
 one fifth, and the two unisons with which the whole 
 concludes. This, it may be confessed, is not a very 
 great advance in the direction of harmonisation, but it 
 shows how the feeling for variety of harmonies began 
 to develop. 
 
 In the course of the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth 
 centuries musicians found out how to introduce ornamental 
 notes, and learned to like the sound of the interval of the 
 third, especially at the last step before the final note of 
 all when the movement ended in unison. But their difii- 
 culties were enhanced by their attitude towards harmo- 
 nisation. The basis of operations was always some given 
 melody, such as a passage of an old Church hymn or 
 chant; and to this they endeavoured to add another in- 
 dependent voice part by calculating what interval they 
 would have to move at each step in the part added to 
 obtain satisfactory consonances in relation to each step 
 of the original melody. The theorists of those days, who 
 were surprisingly numerous, endeavoured to give rules 
 by which a musician should be able to fit a new part to 
 any given melody. A treatise of the thirteenth century 
 says : — If the chant (that is, the lower part) ascends the 
 interval of a second, and the organum (the part added) 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY. 97 
 
 moves down the interval of a third, they will make a 
 
 fifth: 
 
 i 
 
 s 
 
 If the chant ascends a third, and 
 the organum descends a tone, they will be at the 
 If the chant mounts a fifth, and 
 
 ■ W 
 
 fifth: Z K~^ ^ 
 
 the organum descends a fourth, they will be together: 
 S^??=^^: If the chant descends a second, and the 
 
 organum beginning at the fifth ascends a third, they will 
 
 make an octave : 'v7\ ~^r~ H And similar directions 
 
 sp; — c^ — ^, — □ 
 
 were given for a great variety of contingencies in various 
 treatises, both earlier and later. The sort of result 
 obtained may be judged from a fragment of a thirteenth 
 century hymn : — 
 
 
 (^ 
 
 -&-, 
 
 -<=2. 
 
 ,0 . 
 
 
 
 
 -^. 
 
 -<i2_ 
 
 .-^-f ^ ^ ♦ 
 
 1^-^- 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^.1 
 
 
 
 E - 
 
 men 
 
 -da - 
 
 tos 
 
 DOS 
 
 com- 
 
 men 
 
 -da 
 
 Tu - 
 
 
 
 na - to. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 \&h. 
 
 -Q.. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 /This is what was originally meant by counterpoint. It 
 was point set against point, or note against note ; and nearly 
 all the early work was of this description. Composers 
 found it quite difiicult enough without trying any further 
 to enhance its effect except by an occasional ornament, 
 such as the D and C in crotchets just before the end 
 in the example. They hardly seem to have thought of 
 varying the monotony of the simultaneous progressions 
 of the parts until they began to attempt more than 
 mere two-part counterpoint ; and, moreover, composers 
 or singers who first endeavoured to improve upon sucli 
 
 G 
 
98 MUSIC. 
 
 homogeneity of simultaneous motion were hampered by 
 the fact that they had not the means to indicate it. In 
 the primitive melodic music of the Church there was neither 
 rhythm nor any need to regulate the values of the notes 
 in respect of their length. No doubt they had long notes 
 and short ones, but it was left to the taste and discretion 
 of the performer to decide how long and how short they 
 should be ; and the early forms of musical notation (which 
 were merely marks put over the syllables at varying heights 
 to help the memory of the singer) gave no indication of 
 the length of time that the notes were to last. Even 
 when " organising " in fifths and fourths and the simple 
 kinds of note against note counterpoint came in, it was still 
 possible to do without rules of measurement so long as the 
 singers moved from note to note and from syllable to 
 syllable simultaneously. But it is inferred that after a 
 time singers began to extemporise improvements and orna- 
 ments to the descant, which made the keej)ing of the voices 
 together somewhat difficult ; and by degrees the necessity 
 of infusing order into the proceedings drove musicians to 
 invent signs which indicated the relative length of time that 
 the singers should hold the various notes. The rules which 
 were invented at first were curiously complicated and 
 puzzling. There were no bars, and even the relative value 
 of notes varied with certain symbols which were placed 
 at the beginning of the music, and also with the forms 
 of certain obscure scrawls and contorted signs called 
 ligatures, which were allowed to stand for several suc- 
 cessive notes at a time. The rules given for some of 
 these signs are so obscure that even at the present day 
 they can hardly be considered as decisively understood and 
 settled, and how the singers managed to read them is a 
 wonder. It can only be supposed that they did things 
 very much by ear, as they had done for many previous 
 centuries. But the result enabled composers to treat 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY. 99 
 
 their respective voices with more independence, and to 
 proceed to new kinds of musical achievement. 
 
 But every new step they took brought them face to face 
 with new difficulties ; the addition of two parts instead 
 of one to the "canto f ermo " made the calculations 
 necessary to bring about agreeable consonances much 
 more arduous ; and to add three, so as to make an 
 ordinary piece of four-part writing, was considered to be 
 a feat of almost superhuman concentration. The excessive 
 difficulty which such things presented to them is suffi- 
 ciently indicated by the productions of the most celebrated 
 composers, which present the same sort of aspect to a 
 mind capable of unravelling them, that the artistic efforts 
 of a baby just out of its cradle do, when it tries to repre- 
 sent mankind or its favourite animals. It may have been 
 the severity of these difficulties whi6h caused composers 
 to adopt a less laborious but more hazardous way of 
 arriving at the effect of harmonisation ; which was none 
 other than to take two or more tunes and force them to 
 go together by easing off the corners and adapting the 
 points where the cacophony was too intolerable to be 
 endured. It is a proof that their musical sense was 
 developing in respect of the effect of harmony, that they 
 should even endeavour to accommodate the points which 
 to modern ears sound hideous. The actual practice of com- 
 bining several tunes together is much more common all the 
 world over than is usually supposed. Several savage and 
 semi-civilised races do it, as, for instance, the Bushmen 
 at the lower end of the human scale, and the Javese 
 about the middle. In their case the process usually con- 
 sists of simultaneously singing or playing short and simple 
 musical figures, such as savages habitually reiterate, with 
 possibly the addition of a long sort of indefinite wailing 
 tune which goes on independently of all the rest. The 
 Javese carry such devices to a very advanced pitch, pro- 
 
TOO MUSIC. 
 
 ducing a kind of reckless, incohereDt instrumental coun- 
 tei^Doint, very much like a number of people playing 
 various tunes at once, with just sufficient feeling for 
 some definite central principle to accommodate matters. 
 
 JiJtfTl 'id> ^ - ^^ -^ -n 
 
 -•-\«« ^ -• \ ». -•- |N*1 ' ^ -•-N 
 
 Of the same type is the combination of dancing and 
 story singing, which is illustrated in a practice met with 
 among the Portuguese lower classes, of playing a couple 
 of simple figures on the mandolin and repeating them 
 ceaselessly without any change, while a singer wails out 
 a long poem in extremely long notes which have very 
 little to do with the accompaniment. 
 
 This curious practice is made somewhat easier when 
 the element of rhythm comes in and makes it j)Ossible to 
 base the combination upon short figures, and present the 
 result in an instrumental form. With vocal melody, which 
 is necessarily more wide in its range, it is far more diffi- 
 cult ; and whatever the result of the mediaeval musicians' 
 experiments, there was much more of what may be called 
 artistic intention in them. The practice became very 
 common quite suddenly, and led very quickly to fresh 
 developments. And it is worth noting that one of these 
 developments was precisely the same as that adopted by 
 the Bushmen and the Javese and other semi-savage experi- 
 menters in such things ; wJiich was to accompany the m ain 
 combination of two melodies by a short musical fi gure 
 wh I'nii rnulfl be inrpss antly reiterated as an accompani- 
 ment__Inmedia3val music this was a sort of nonsense part, 
 and was sungj^ nmigpy^s^ ayllablps, snrh. as "Balaam." 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY. 
 
 or _^Portare," or '' Verbum," or " Angelas," or any other 
 s ingle word which could easily be adapted to a sort of 
 pseudo-rhythmic group of notes, which would fit in while 
 fliAjMli^ L t^^-'^ <^^' fh vf^f-. vmV.ps frni. thr ough their respec - 
 tive tunes. When the word "Alleluia" was chosen it- 
 presents a rather more sensible appearance ; but this was 
 clearly an accident, as it happens to be used on one occa- 
 sion as an accompaniment to two tunes, one of which is 
 concerning love, and the other about the pleasures of 
 good fellowship. The practice was so well understood 
 that the composer merely wrote the word once at the 
 beginning of the piece, and the singers (generally those 
 who took the lower part) fitted it in as seemed to them 
 good. A short fragment of such a motet, combining Latin 
 and French words with a nonsense part, will be sufficient 
 to show what a singular art-j)roduct resulted : — 
 
 -3I- 
 
 .^&tf== 
 
 iS3i=i-4t=tot 
 
 F^^ 
 
 Povre se-cors ai en - core re - co - vre, 
 
 A ma d;inie que je avoie i 
 
 ffi 
 
 P_^ddq^f=?fe;?^£^ 
 
 Gaude chorus om 
 
 um fi - del - i 
 
 w 
 
 :p2iK? 
 
 :^: 
 
 An - ge - lus, An - ge - lus, An - ge - lus. 
 
 In such pieces as this it was generally rather a matter of 
 chance what combinations were produced. The composer 
 was for the most part at the mercy of the tunes he chose 
 to combine, and he was necessarily absolved from the 
 rules which theorists laid down for the adding of coun- 
 terpoint to a canto fermo. Their main object seems to 
 have been to get the chief points, on which stress could 
 be laid, to form consonances, and to let passing notes 
 clash as they would. And it is very remarkable that 
 their instinct even in adapting tunes together worked 
 
102 MUSIC. 
 
 in the direction of successions of fifths and fourths, 
 just as in the early form of the organum. The example 
 quoted above is rather an extreme case of independence, 
 if not of recklessness ; but even in this case the old type 
 of the organum is discernible in the relations between 
 the lower and the upper part. 
 
 In other compositions it is common to meet with a 
 structure which consists almost entirely of successions 
 of fifths disguised by the ornamental notes which are 
 interspersed. The manner in which this was done may 
 be best judged from an example of the thirteenth century 
 by the Trouvh'e poet and musician, Adam de la Hale : — 
 
 -^ 
 
 g=^=^^^^ 
 
 «^ 
 
 t=q= 
 
 -^^^ 
 
 i 
 
 i==q= 
 
 &^ 
 
 5 
 
 MiBz 
 
 ^zt^: 
 
 ■^— ^^- 
 
 ?2^? 
 
 I 
 
 
 d-^-=]=i'^ 
 
 
 -— - 
 
 7) ^ 
 
 ^ rai 
 
 — — — 
 
 1 ;^ 
 
 n'a 
 
 me - - - 
 
 - rai 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 r:j> • 
 
 
 
 
 ^-' Tl* -J 
 
 
 7m? ^^ 
 
 
 -<<^ . ^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . . 
 
 
 
 In this the whole basis of procedure is a succession of 
 octaves and fifths, which is almost as regular and un- 
 changed as the old diaphony of the ninth and tenth 
 centuries ; but the succession is disguised and made 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY. 103 
 
 expressive by ornamental or subsidiary notes introduced 
 between the main blocks of octaves and fifths. The rest 
 of the little song (which would take too much room to 
 quote) is of exactly the same construction, and so are 
 many pieces of sacred and secular music of these early 
 centuries. As composers developed their skill in adapting 
 voice parts to one another, in course of time they even 
 managed to write in four parts with some facility, and 
 this necessarily made them more accustomed to the effect 
 of the less purely harmonious consonances; for though 
 they tried hard to restrict themselves in the main to what 
 they called the perfect concords, it was impossible to write 
 in more than two parts without frequently introducing 
 a complete triad with third and fifth, and scarcely less 
 frequently the intervals of the sixth, major and minor. It 
 is not necessary to follow out the progress of these early 
 centuries in detail. It pursued its slow course on the 
 same lines. Composers found out artistic devices which 
 facilitated their labours, and enabled them to approximate 
 to more pleasing and artistic results. But the averag e 
 quali ty of their works of every kind is marvellously crude , 
 harsh , and incoherent . 
 
 Almost every elementary rule of art which a modern 
 musician holds inviolable is broken incessantly, and there 
 are hardly any pieces of music, by the most learned or 
 the most intelligent musicians up to the fourteenth cen- 
 tury, which are not too rough and uncouth to be listened 
 to by even the most liberal-minded and intelligent musician 
 without such bewilderment as often ends in irrepressible 
 laughter. T he little rondeau of Adam de la Hale, par t 
 ofwhich is quote d abov e , stands almost a lone for genuine 
 e xpressiveness, and even a certain attractiveness, amongst 
 a great mass of experiments which are sim])ly chaotically 
 cl umsy and homogeneous . 
 
 A still more rare and wonderful exception, which is 
 
I04 MUSIC. 
 
 important on other grounds besides its musical effective- 
 ness, is tlie famous English canon, " Sumer is icumen 
 in," which is probably of little earlier date. This is clearly 
 a folk-tune (and a very beautiful one) which lent itself 
 easily to being sung as a round by several voices in 
 succession, with a sort of drone bass. It is an almost 
 unique example of its kind for the time when it was 
 written ; and it proves, in a manner which cannot be 
 ignored, that composers had already at this early date a 
 very definite idea of the c anomV, form wl Li^,lv -whs ^n^* 
 of the earliest and simplest devices of contrapuntal music, 
 and almost the onl y one which was cultivated with any 
 success before the sixteenth century. The significant 
 point about this canonic form, in relation to the evolu - 
 tion of musical art, is its singular homogene ousness. It 
 nffords Vim-rlly miy nfiFnnf r^f '^rti n tl' " ^ Variety or coutrast , 
 a nd of itself no special means of exijression. In fact 
 it _is really no more than a technical device — a sort o f 
 eyerrise of skilly likp. nny gmiiP wliir^h mPTi pla ^ust for 
 f]io^T>-. pct^T.Toi-.f r^f nyavnr..iTi'T.p|. ^ ^ d iffjcultv. But lu these 
 early stages of development the distinction between art 
 and artifice had hardly arisen. Considering the state the 
 art was in the first appearance of this form becomes a 
 very important event in the story. It was a very natural 
 outcome of the improvement of pure choral music that 
 the different voices should sometimes be made to sing 
 the same words and phrases after one another instead of 
 simultaneously; and in later times, when men had de- 
 veloped higher artistic sense, one of the most elastic and 
 comprehensive of musical forms was developed on this 
 principle; but in those early days, when musical intelli- 
 gence was so undeveloped, it was natural that comjDosers 
 should endeavour to follow out a simjDle contrivance of 
 the sort to the bitter end, and should imagine that 
 they had really achieved an artistic result when they had 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY. 105 
 
 manipulated the flow of a voice part in snch a way that 
 another voice beginning a little later should be able to sing 
 the same melody always a little way behind the leader. 
 The device undoubtedly took the fancy of early composers 
 very strongly, as was natural when so few devices of any 
 kind were possible; and they expended so much energy 
 upon it that in the fifteenth century they developed quite 
 an abnormal skill in futile note-spinning and puzzle- 
 making. It is not to be denied that canons can be made 
 not only very effective but beautiful ; the mistake which 
 most of the early composers and many modern ones have 
 made is to take the means for an end, and assume that the 
 device is worth doing for its own sake. The canonic form 
 is a further illustration of the state of the art from an- 
 '■ other point of view, as it is purely a combination of voice 
 parts, and not a device of harmony at all. The result is 
 harmony of a sort, but in no sense a phase of harmony 
 which implies any feeling for system or harmonic order. 
 The harmonies are the accident and not the essence of 
 the device ; and the result was in the early examples 
 both rhythmically and structurally incoherent, and so far 
 homogeneous. 
 
 Another drawback tn thp -Fnri-n w hirh is rhn.Tncte ristic 
 of undeveloped artistic sense is that the voices go on all 
 thrnngh wvthniTtjTT aterial breaks. There is no relie f or 
 change in the amount of sound which the ear receives, 
 and therefore there is a lack of variety. This feature is 
 equally characteristic of a large amount of the early 
 choral music of other kinds. Composers seem to have 
 thought that it was an advantage to keep the parts going ; 
 and when tJhey^^^ gave any voice a r est^of long dura- 
 tion, it was genei^al ly less for the s ake of artistic e ffect 
 than because they fo und it so difficult (in a triplum or 
 quadrupium) to keep all the parts in continual activity. 
 One part indeed was necessarily kept going. For it was 
 
io6 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 the almost universal practice that each movement was 
 developed upon some ready-made melody, such as a plain 
 chant, or even a secular tune put into long notes. This 
 was generally put in the tenor, and the other parts were 
 added by calculations such as those quoted on page g/. 
 And if this canto fermo stopped there was nothing left 
 to build upon. Here again the product was homo- 
 geneous. The principle of adding fresh voice parts to 
 a given melody on contrapuntal principles suggested of 
 itself no contrasts except those of pitch, nor any natural 
 divisions or articulations of the artistic organism, such 
 as balanced phrases and periods. The music flowed from 
 end to end indefinitely, and the only indications of com- 
 pleteness were the starting from a definite point in the 
 scale and the conventional close at the end, sometimes, 
 but by no means always, on the same tone as the move- 
 ment started from. 
 
 A strong trace of the melodic system to which the old 
 form of art belonged is recognisable in the cadences. 
 These were not processes like a modern cadence, in which 
 two blocks of contrasted harmony succeed one another ; 
 but progressions in which the most important features 
 were the descent of the modal part — or canto fermo upon 
 which the contrapuntal structure was built — one step 
 downwards upon the tonic of the mode ; and its accom- 
 paniment in another part by a third below or a sixth 
 above in the penultimate step, passing into the octave or 
 the unison to finish with. 
 
 Acconip. 
 
 H. 
 
 Accomp. 
 
 IMoJal part. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^~, rzi 
 
 tJ '~^ 
 
 
 a«5 
 
 n 
 
 The whole aspect and texture of this old music is so 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY. 107 
 
 different from tlio modern style, that it seems almost in- 
 conceivable to most people when they first come into 
 contact with it that it could have had any musical effect 
 at all, much less that it could be the direct source of the 
 elaborate modern fabric. The most familiar rule that the 
 tyro in the study of harmony learns to his cost, is to avoid 
 consecutive fifths and octaves ; but the rule of the mediaeval 
 musicians was distinctly and unquestionably to write more 
 of them than of anything else. As has been pointed out 
 before, the basis and substructure of many compositions 
 was a series of such fifths and octaves disguised by orna- 
 mental notes and passing notes. In other particulars also 
 the difference from modern views is very marked ; such as, 
 for instance, in the use of discords. These early musicians 
 used many discords, and very harsh ones too, but hardly 
 ever in any way like modern composers. They were always 
 purely accidental discords, and were in no sense either used 
 as means of contrast, nor to propel the music on from 
 point to point, as is their frequent function in modern 
 times. The melodic outline of one part jostled against 
 that of another voice part, and as it were disregarded 
 what its neighbour was doing for a short while, till it 
 landed upon some note which brought it again into con- 
 sonance with its surroundings. The very idea of using 
 chords of varying degrees of harshness as a means of 
 effect does not seem to have dawned upon composers 
 until after some centuries of experience. The early phase 
 of the progress of harmony from homogeneity to hetero- 
 geneity is distinctly traceable in this respect. In the 
 first stage there is no variety at all ; all are fifths or 
 fourths consecutively. A slight variety appears when 
 fourths and fifths are mixed up with one another and 
 with octaves ; but it is very slight, as the difference 
 between one and the other in degrees of consonance is 
 scarcely marked enough to afford a sense of contrast. 
 
io8 MUSIC. 
 
 When the force of circumstances drove composers to use 
 the less perfectly consonant combinations of thirds and 
 sixths, they enlarged the scope of their resources, and 
 their materials became more heterogeneous ; but it took 
 them a long time to realise the effects which could be 
 made with thirds as contrasts to more perfect consonances. 
 Ultimately the composers with the higher instincts learnt 
 to use the qualities of the different consonances for rela- 
 tively similar effects of contrast to such as are produced 
 by the relations of concord and discord in modern music ; 
 and then going a step still further, composers at last 
 found out how to use real discords, such as were not the 
 i-esult of jostling passing notes only, but systematically 
 introduced and under artistic control. Tliey of course 
 only used one kind of discord, which was obtained by one 
 voice holding on a note which had been consonant in one 
 chord while the other voices went on to other positions 
 which made the combination into a discord. The appear- 
 ance of this device immensely enhanced the vitality of the 
 music; and though the moderation of composers in the 
 use of it was extreme, it brought a tone into the art which 
 soon began to dispel the ancient traditions of successions 
 of fifths and fourths interspersed with discords which 
 only came by chance and fulfilled no artistic function. 
 The curious makeshifts of motets made up of several 
 tunes twisted and hammered into a dubious conformity 
 ceased to make their appearance. Composers still had to 
 make their counterpoint upon the basis of a canto fermo, 
 or a canon, or some equally primitive device, because 
 without some kind of regulating principle they wandered 
 and were lost like children without guides. But a more 
 musical spirit pervaded their attempts, and they found 
 out how to dispose the progressions of their parts so as 
 to obtain contrasts of tone, and to make the voices flow 
 at once with more real independence and interdepen- 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY. 109 
 
 dence. The iufluence of the old organum ceased iu time ; 
 and a real though limited heterogeneity took its place. 
 And before the end of the fifteenth century composers 
 really understood something of the delicate art of vary- 
 ing the amount and distribution of sound by sometimes 
 having all the voices singing full together, and sometimes 
 letting some of them stop here and there. And they even 
 got so far as to understand how to make the utterances 
 of different voices coherent by making them take up 
 short fragments of melody or musical figures iniitatively ; 
 and how to make the general texture of a movement 
 uniform by the pervading style and mood of the musical 
 ideas. 
 
 But the musical ideas themselves were singularly vague 
 and indefinite. Even the tunes which they borrowed were 
 put into such enormously long notes that whatever indi- 
 viduality there was in them commonly disappeared. It 
 is quite imj^ossible to recognise a tune when single notes 
 are prolonged to an extent equivalent to half a dozen 
 bars in slow time. And this extension was mercilessly 
 practised by the best mediaeval musicians in order to 
 lengthen their movements, and give more time for the 
 spinning out of their strange kinds of counterpoint. 
 Spontaneity was of course out of the question. The 
 store of known technical resources was too limited, and 
 every musical work was the product of arduous and 
 laborious concentration, or of peculiar ingenuity. Even 
 expression of any kind was rare, for, strange as it seems, 
 in such immature products the chief pleasure lay in 
 arriving at a new experience through the overcoming 
 of some technical difficulty. Their minds were so fully 
 occupied with the difficulties they had to overcome that 
 they could think of little else. And even up to the end of 
 the fourteenth century the effect produced by getting a 
 
no MUSIC. 
 
 certain number of voices to go together at all seems to 
 have been so new and attractive that it was hardly neces- 
 sary to go any further afield to strike men with wonder 
 at the achievement. 
 
 All this development naturally proceeded under the 
 wing of the Church. The system of the modes pre- 
 scribed by ecclesiastical authority, and such rules of 
 counterpoint as ecclesiastical theorists discovered per- 
 vaded such secular music as there was quite as much 
 as the genuine Church music. There were plenty of 
 attempts made at secular motets, and lively secular tunes 
 with a sense of rhythm in them made their appearance 
 therein, but the contrapuntal procedure was the same in 
 all ; and the same phases of progress are noticeable in 
 one as in the other. Even folk-tunes were influenced 
 by the modes which were taught by the Church, and the 
 more highly organised songs of the Troubadours, little as 
 their authors wished it, had to submit to the universal 
 influence. The ecclesiastics were the only people who had 
 devised any system for recording music accurately, and 
 therefore even if a man wished to strike out an indepen- 
 dent line his musical utterances were sure to be recorded 
 in terms which only the musicians trained in the school 
 of the Church knew how to use. 
 
 The Troubadours indeed stand outside the line of the 
 direct development of modern music, as their efforts seem 
 to have been purely melodic ; and though there are some 
 beautiful tunes still remaining which are attributed to 
 them, they represent a development of lyrical music which 
 appears to have had no immediate consequences. It was 
 the fruit of an isolated outburst of refined poetic feeling, 
 and when its natural home in the South of France was 
 hairied and ruined by the Church the impulse dwindled 
 and ceased. 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY. m 
 
 But the crude efforts of the , ©aiiy contrapuati&ts, 
 whether secular or ecclesiastic, served as the immediate 
 foundation of one of the greatest eras in the history of 
 musical art; a nd through that era aR.thf^ earliest nnurrf 
 of the charact er istic system of harmony which forms the 
 distinguishing feature of modern music. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 PURE CHORAL MUSIC. 
 
 \ The early period from the ninth till the end of the fifteenth 
 century was, as it were, the babyhood of modern music, 
 when ideas and modes of musical thought were indefinite, 
 unsystematised, and unpractical. The Church, like a care- 
 ful mother, watched over and regulated all that was done, 
 and the infantile efforts scarcely emerged at any time into 
 definiteness either of form or expression. 
 
 The two centuries which followed, up to the beginning 
 of the seventeenth century, were the period of the youth 
 of modern music — a period most pure, serene, and inno- 
 cent — when mankind was yet too immature in things 
 musical to express itself in terms of passion or of force, 
 but used forms and moods of art which are like tranquil 
 dreams and communings of man with his inner self, before 
 the stei'ner experiences of life have quite awakened him 
 to its multiform realities and possibilities. The manner 
 in which the inevitable homogeneity of an early stage of 
 art presents itself is discernible from every point of view. 
 The most comprehensive fact is that almost all the music 
 of the two centuries is purely choral — that is, either 
 written for several voices in combination without inde- 
 pendent accompaniment, or devised upon methods which 
 were invented solely for that kind of performance. It 
 followed from this general fact that the methods of art 
 were also homogeneous ; for the processes which are fit 
 to be used by voices alone are more limited in range and 
 variety than those which can be employed by instruments, 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC. 113 
 
 owing to the greater difficulty of taking awkward inter- 
 vals and of sustaining the pitch, and to the necessity of 
 adapting the notes to words; and also to the fact that 
 the words often lessen the need of absolute principles of 
 design, by supplying a meaning to the music in general, 
 when without them it would be incoherent. 
 
 The principal reason of this absorption of composers in 
 the cultivation of choral music is obvious. It is a well 
 ascertained law of human nature, that men will not go out 
 and labour in the desert at haphazard when they are fully 
 occupied in extracting unlimited gold from a rich mine. 
 Neither will they (in a healthy state of existence) abandon 
 an occupation which is full of absorbing interest, and con- 
 stantly presents fresh problems most tempting to solve, for 
 the mere chance of amusement in some other direction. 
 At the time when the great era of pure choral composition 
 was beginning, musical human beings, earnestly disposed, 
 were just awakening to the singular possibilities of beauty 
 which the combinations of many singing voices afforded. 
 They were awakening to the actual beauty of the sound 
 of chords sung by voices — to the beauty of delicate variety 
 between one chord and another, and between chords in 
 different positions (partly owing to the various qualities 
 of the different registers of the voices) — to the beauty 
 of the actual human expression of the individual voices ; 
 and to the beauty of the relations of the melodic forms 
 of the different parts to one another. To win the delight 
 of realising the various phases of these effects was enough 
 to keep them fully occupied on even severer labour than 
 the development of artistic technique ; but the incitement 
 quickened their musical instinct marvellously, and in a 
 short time developed in them a delicacy of perception of 
 artistic means and a sense of style which is almost unique 
 in the history of the art. In later times composers are 
 distracted by the varieties of style and taste which have 
 
114 MUSIC. 
 
 been developed, in the necessary course of musical evolu- 
 tion, for different artistic purposes, such as the theatre 
 and the concert room ; and often introduce the formulas 
 which belong to one kind of an art into another to which 
 they are quite unsuited ; but in the early days there were 
 no such distractions. Men's minds were occupied by the 
 conditions of choral performance alone, and the further 
 they went the more refined and pure their artistic methods 
 became. 
 
 The turning point from the crude experiments of artistic 
 childhood to the fresh power of intelligent enjoyment of 
 youth was somewhere about the end of the fifteenth 
 century. The state of transition is most strongly appa- 
 rent in the works of the English composer Dunstable, 
 who in some things still illustrates the helpless crudity 
 of the early stages of the art, and in others shows a 
 fair mastery of the disposition of his voice-parts so as to 
 obtain a really attractive quality of sound, not for the 
 moment only, but in sufficiently long passages to be fully 
 appreciable. It marks no little advance in skill, and in 
 the mastery of technique, that composers were able to look 
 beyond the mere overcoming of difficulties and to make 
 use of their devices for a purj^ose. 
 
 It is probably common to all arts that when the early 
 stages of wrestling with technical difficulties have been 
 passed the aim of artists seems to be to produce effects 
 which are more noteworthy for their beauty than for 
 definiteness of expression and variety of characterisation. 
 Y Distinctive definiteness of expression was certainly not the 
 aim of the composers of the great choral j^eriod ; and if it 
 had been they could not have succeeded without launching 
 out beyond the limits of the art which they understood 
 into that of experiment without precedent and without 
 standards of test. Indeed they were quite sufficiently 
 occupied in applying the skill they had developed to the 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC. 115 
 
 simple purpose of making groups of various voices pro- 
 duce effects of smooth and harmonious tone. In the main, 
 the music was singularly indefinite in almost every respect. 
 The style had grown up entirely under the influence of 
 the Church, and composers had learnt how to solve their 
 earliest artistic problems by using the old Church melodies 
 as a basis whereon to add voice to voice and make a har- 
 monious combination ; and as the devotional sentiment of 
 the Christian religion belonged to that inward class of 
 spiritual emotions which expressed themselves vocally 
 rather than by animated gestures, it followed that all 
 this music was unrhythmic ; and consequently it was also 
 divested of all that kind of regular orderliness of struc- 
 ture which seems so indispensable in the maturer art of 
 modern times. 
 
 It is true the composers had to find methods for 
 restricting the lengths of the notes, but for a long time 
 the establishment of their principles of relative duration 
 tended rather to obscure the rhythmic or metrical order 
 of the music than to define it. The reason for this lay 
 in the strong feeling of musicians for the independence 
 of the voice parts. Their artistic instinct was specially 
 attracted by the fascinating effect of diverse movement 
 controlled into the unity of a perfect flow of harmony. 
 To them it was still essential that each individual voice 
 part should be pleasurable to sing, and the more subtly 
 the independence of each was suggested the more fasci- 
 nating was the artistic effect. The result was that in 
 one phase of this kind of art composers aimed chiefly 
 at making the accents and climaxes of the various voice 
 parts constantly alternate with one another. One voice 
 part rose when another fell, one held a note when an- 
 other moved, one came to its highest climax at one 
 moment and descended, while another moved up in its 
 turn to another climax, possibly higher than the first. 
 
it6 music. 
 
 And as the skill of composers iu managing such pro- 
 gressions improved, they found out how to distribute the 
 climaxes of the various voice parts so as to make them 
 gain in vital warmth by coming ever closer and closer ; 
 and the hearer could in a moderate degree be excited 
 by the sound of successive crises in different qualities of 
 tone, sometimes tenor, sometimes treble, sometimes bass;, 
 each of which seemed successively to rise into prominence 
 within the smooth texture of the harmonious flow of 
 sound, and then to be merged into it again, as another 
 took its place. 
 
 The tendency of all such devices was to obscure the 
 rhythmic element of the music. Put the necessity for 
 orderliness in the relative lengths of notes brought about 
 a clear understanding of underlying principles upon which 
 the strong and weak accents were grouped. The mere 
 fact that some particular long note had to be recognised 
 as equal to two, three, four, six or more shorter ones, 
 necessitated the development of a feeling for strong 
 accents at the points where the longer and the shorter 
 notes started together ; and for a propoi^tionate absence 
 of accent at the points where the longer notes were 
 holding though the quicker notes were moving. But 
 it was rather a point of art with the choral writers to 
 avoid emphasising these mechanical accents, and to make 
 the voices have independent cross accents with one an- 
 other. In respect of pure contrapuntal skill the beauty 
 of effect of such devices dejDended upon the manner in 
 which the composers managed to control them with the 
 view to keeping the harmonies complete, full in sound, 
 and ever subtly varying in quality. In early stages 
 their control of relative qualities of chords and their 
 power to group them effectively was very limited. Even 
 their instinct for the actual effect of chords had to be 
 developed by long experience. As has before been pointed 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC. 117 
 
 out, in such devices as the old motets, in which various 
 tunes were forced to go together, it was a matter of the 
 purest chance what harmonies, or cacophonies, succeeded 
 each other. But as composers gained experience they 
 perceived the effect of contrast and variety which could 
 be obtained by distributing their chords with regard to 
 their relative degrees of harshness. And it obviously be- 
 came a most fascinating study to find out how to con- 
 trol the motions of the various voices so as to obtain 
 at once constant variety of accent, alternation of crisis, 
 and the particular effects of harmony of different degrees 
 of fulness or slightness which were required for the 
 attainment of satisfactory general effect. 
 
 The artistic problem is ob\dously by no means simple; 
 and though there was little to distract composers or divert 
 their energies into other lines of skill, very few arrived 
 at complete mastery of resource and complete perception 
 of the various shades of chord effects which are as necessary 
 to the completely artistic result as the actual management 
 of the counterpoint. But in one short period at the latter 
 part of the sixteenth century a small group of composers 
 achieved a type of art which for subtlety and refinement 
 in the treatment of delicate shades of contrast has no 
 parallel in the history of musical art. The very absence 
 of strong emotional purpose or intention to characterise 
 gave them a peculiar opportunity. Their whole attention 
 was concentrated upon a limited field of effort, and the 
 fruit was a unique phase of a pure, and as it were 
 ethereal beauty, too delicate to satisfy mankind for long, 
 and destined to be replaced by a period of reactionary 
 experiment which produced things almost as crude, ugly, 
 and barbarous as those of the twelfth and thirteenth 
 centuries. 
 
 But meanwhile, though the central aim of composers 
 was the development of skill in controlling the diverse 
 
ii8 MUSIC. 
 
 voice parts so as to produce these varying effects of 
 harmonious sound, yet there were many ways in which 
 the tendency to branch out into diversity was shown. 
 Among the most noteworthy of these was the adoption 
 of a method of writing the voice parts which served as a 
 means of variety to the elaborate contrapuntal method 
 above described. In the most characteristic style of choral 
 writing of the old contrapuntal kind a note was but rarely 
 repeated for different syllables. The treatment of the 
 singing voice parts resembled in this the inflections of 
 human speech, in which mechanical reiteration of a note — 
 which implies subordination to some external rule of form 
 or rhythm — is rare. But the constant, ceaseless shift- 
 ing of every voice is liable to become a strain on the 
 attention when it goes on too long, and the mind begins 
 to feel the need for some kind of repose. 
 
 It was probably as a means of relieving this strain 
 that composers adopted a much simjoler mode of pro- 
 cedure ; in which the effect was not obtained by the 
 relations of the melodic contours of the parts, but by 
 successions of simple harmonies in which the voices 
 often moved in blocks of chords, and also very often 
 repeated the same notes to different syllables. This 
 style is far more like the familiar modern processes of 
 harmonisation ; but there remains this marked difference, 
 that whereas in modern harmony the chords always move 
 in subordination to the principles of modern tonality — as 
 illustrating the antitheses of tonic and dominant and 
 other relatively contrasting centres — the old progressions 
 of harmony moved under the regulations of the modes, 
 with much less of definite system in their distribution, 
 and without the melody in the upper part which is 
 commonly the outward and visible sign of the inward 
 principle of design. The importance of the occasional 
 adoption of this procedure was very great, for it not 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC. 119 
 
 only called men's attention more directly to tlie actual 
 effect of chords as chords, but also led them inevitably to 
 a more definitely rhythmic treatment of the music. It 
 became, as it were, the door through which rhythm began 
 to make its way into choral music of the purest kind ; 
 and though the finer artistic natures never submitted 
 wholly to its spell except on rare and well chosen occa- 
 sions, the seduction it exercised was too great to be 
 resisted, and even before the great period of choral music 
 had arrived at its zenith its presence made itself subtly 
 felt here and there in all departments of art. 
 
 The most singular result of the adoption of the simpler 
 method of harmonisation was that it awoke in men's 
 minds a new feeling for the effect of harmony pure and 
 simple, which is betrayed by their very helplessness in 
 sustaining the interest in a long passage which is har- 
 monic rather than contrapuntal in its character. The 
 increased facility which men gained in the management 
 of their artistic resources led them to apply their skill 
 to various forms of both sacred and secular music. 
 The best secular forms were the madrigals, which were 
 written under the same artistic conditions as the Church 
 music, and aimed by similar treatment of independent 
 voice parts at obtaining beautiful effects of melodic 
 variety within the bounds of the controlling unity of the 
 harmony. The moods naturally became a little lighter 
 and more lively than in Church music, and the expression 
 even a little more definite and more varied. And it 
 happened also that the first collections of madrigals which 
 won very marked success — which were brought out by 
 Arcadelt in the middle decades of the sixteenth century 
 — were singularly simple in their treatment of harmony, 
 and allowed the harmonies to move very much in blocks, 
 and to present the simple rhythms of the poems set, with- 
 out the disguise of the familiar cross accents and the 
 
I20 MUSIC. 
 
 subtleties of choral counterpoint. It was under sucli cir- 
 cumstances that men began to feel the need of system 
 in the distribution of the harmonies ; and as the modes 
 under whose restrictions they still worked hindered their 
 finding any satisfactory system of contrast between one 
 group of harmonies and another, they almost invariably 
 lost themselves in mazes of pointless obscurity in the 
 middle of a composition of any length. For though they 
 could make a good beginning and a good end with simple 
 chords, art required a long period of probation under quite 
 new conditions before men found out how to carry out 
 the development of a long movement on any lines but the 
 contrapuntal ones with which they were familiar. "When 
 Arcadelt and his contemporaries tried to sustain the in- 
 terest without the contrapuntal methods their skill soon 
 failed them. But every effort in this direction told ; and 
 as men knew nothing better as yet in the way of har- 
 monic design, it cannot be supposed that they noticed 
 the defects of such early attempts as much as modern 
 musicians do. Undoubtedly the hearing of such effects 
 made them more and more accustomed to effects of har- 
 mony of the simpler kind, and undoubtedly in a great many 
 smaller madrigals the composers hit upon very definite 
 and tuneful effects which differ from modern music of a 
 similar kind only in the quaint and attractive peculiarities 
 inevitable to harmonisation in the old ecclesiastical modes. 
 In the madrigals of the best time the finer contra- 
 puntal ways were more generally adopted ; but men had 
 so far progressed towards understanding the effect of 
 harmonic design, that in many large examples, especially 
 in those of the English school, tonality becomes sufficiently 
 definite to admit occasionally of clear and effective treat- 
 ment of modulation of the modern kind ; which implies 
 a conception of art quite alien to the purely contrapuntal 
 and modal methods of the great choral composers. 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC. 121 
 
 A little cousideration will show that the capacity to 
 feel the artistic effect of a change of key implies the 
 adoption of a new method of regarding art which is of 
 the first importance. In melodic systems there is a wide 
 range of possible change of mode, but very little which 
 amounts to change of key. Differences of mode are 
 differences in the relations of various intervals to the 
 most essential notes of the scale, such as the initial or 
 final of a tune, or any other notes on which emphasis is 
 especially laid. But differences of key are much more 
 subtle both in fact and effect. For they do not change 
 the order of the notes, but only the centre round which 
 a nniform series is grouped ; and the beauty of the 
 effect is partly derived from the identity of order in 
 relation to a changed centre, and partly from the fact 
 that this identity causes certain notes to appear in one 
 key which do not exist in the other. Now the original 
 conception of the art of the choral epoch was purely 
 melodic : the central thread of orderliness was the modal 
 part, as it was called, which moved according to certain 
 rules within a range of sounds of which either 0, D, E, F, 
 G, or A was the most essential note ; and whatever parts 
 were added were regulated by their relation to this part, 
 which was most frequently the tenor. Sharps and flats 
 were in no case introduced to give the effect of change 
 of key, but merely to avoid intervals which were con- 
 sidered offensive and inartistic, or to make the close of 
 the movement satisfactory to the ear. The idea of intro- 
 ducing an Ff into a passage in order to make a modula- 
 tion from C to G, or a Bt> to pass from C to F, was 
 alien to the very heart of the modal system. When 
 B\> was introduced it was because the interval of the 
 tritone or augmented fourth between F and B was dis- 
 agreeable ; and when men found that the introduction 
 of a flat to B produced the very interval they wanted 
 
122 MUSIC. 
 
 to avoid between Bb aud E, they evaded the obnoxious 
 interval again by adding a flat also to E, whenever it 
 was required by the circumstances. But the object was 
 not to suggest a change of tonality, or to obtain variety 
 of harmony, but to soften the progress of a melodic 
 passage. The sharps were introduced on grounds which 
 were less purely melodic, as the dissatisfaction in a 
 cadence consisting of the succession of the chords of 
 D minor and G, which drove musicians to sharpen the 
 F, implies quite as much sense of the need for a 
 penultimate major chord (which is a harmonic con- 
 sideration) as for the rise of the semitone to the final, 
 which is the melodic feeling. But at any rate it is quite 
 clear that when once these additional notes had been 
 added for one purpose, composers very soon made use of 
 them for others. They soon saw that it gave them an 
 additional means of effect, and without thinking of any- 
 thing so subtle or advanced as a change of key, they 
 began to use them to obtain the effect of a difference of 
 quality in harmony in the same position. They delighted 
 in bringing passages close together which contained chords 
 with F|: and Y% or Of and Ctf in them respectively. To 
 people accustomed mainly to the diatonic series the effect 
 must have been subtly enchanting ; and composers, in 
 their eagerness to avail themselves of all opportunities, 
 occasionally overshot the mark, and made experiments 
 to which modern ears, though as a rule tougher than 
 ears of the sixteenth century, will not accord any ap- 
 preciation. But the use of these accidentals gave men 
 the opportunity to learn not only the important relations 
 of tonic and dominant chords, but also further to develop 
 a new conception of the nature of the musical scale. 
 The truth is, that the frequent use of these accidentals 
 ultimately assimilated the modes to such an extent that 
 little more than technical traditions, differences of style, 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC. 123 
 
 and forms of cadences distinguished the music written 
 in one mode from that written in another. This might 
 be counted as a loss if it was forgotten that the old modal 
 system was quite unfitted for the artistic purposes of har- 
 mony, and that the assimilation of modes into a system 
 of keys was a necessary preliminary to the development 
 of true harmonic music of the modern kind, and of 
 those principles of harmonic design which are vital to its 
 existence. 
 
 The masters of the great choral period never arrived 
 at a definite acceptance of the contrast between tonic 
 and dominant as a basis of design ; but they under- 
 stood the principle well enough to use it effectively in 
 cadences of various kinds, and they arrived at a clear 
 enough feeling for tonality in the latest years of the 
 period to use passages which represent such contrasts of 
 key as D minor and B b major, E minor and G, D minor 
 and r. But the instinct of the higher class of composers 
 for continuity in the flow of sound militated against any 
 systematic use of such contrasts for purposes of design. 
 Their movements started from some initial point and 
 wandered ceaselessly through unbroken mazes of counter- 
 point till the return to the starting-point in the close. 
 There was nothing of the systematic modulation to a new 
 key, and definite use of it as the principal element of con- 
 trast in the design which is familiar in modern music. 
 But they soon found out the advantage of making subor- 
 dinate recommencements start from chords which con- 
 trasted with one another ; and the growth of their feeling 
 for such contrasts grew with their freer use of acci- 
 dentals, till the relation in which these contrasts stood 
 to one another was sufiiciently clear and broad to give 
 to a modern musician the impression of a very effective 
 modulation. 
 
 It was in compositions of a lower order that composers 
 
124 MUSIC. 
 
 were driven to experiment in rhythmical grouping of 
 periods more like modern harmocic forms ; for as in these 
 they tried to set their poems directly and simply, they 
 had no choice but to look for successions of chords 
 which were effectively alternated and balanced. The 
 general diffusion of skill in the management of voice 
 parts brought into being a variety of popular forms which 
 went by the names of Canzonas, Frottolas, and Villan- 
 ellas, many of which were simple arrangements of popular 
 street tunes, which, but for the universal influence of the 
 modes, would resemble modern part-songs; and besides 
 these there was a very large amount of dance music 
 for voices in parts, such as the Balletti, which were 
 necessarily rhythmic and definite in the distribution of 
 phrases and periods, and regularly grouped into bars. 
 Many of these are remarkably bright, sparkling, and 
 skilfully contrived, with great feeling for vocal effect. The 
 style reacted upon the higher forms of art, such as the 
 madrigals; and in the latest phase of that form of art, 
 which was in England in the latter part of Elizabeth's 
 reign and in the time of James I., the actual subjects 
 and figures of melody came to have a far more definite 
 and distinct character, and the aspect of the works in 
 general became far more animated, more pointed, and 
 more harmonic in character. The balance of style was 
 admirably sustained by the great masters of the English 
 school, Byrd, Wilbye, Weelkes, Bennet, Morley, Gibbons, 
 and others, though they clearly aimed at more definite 
 expression and more close attention to the words than 
 would have been consistent with the artistic intentions of 
 the early Netherland and Italian masters. But the expan- 
 sion of the style in these directions bore with it the seeds 
 of dissolution ; and as soon as composers endeavoured to 
 enlarge the scope of choral music yet further by imi- 
 tating the methods of the early operas and cantatas, the 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC. 125 
 
 media3val ty^^e of choral art passed into mongrel forms, 
 and very shortly ceased altogether. 
 
 But meanwhile the latter part of the century found 
 men laying the foundations of new lines of art in slender 
 but very important experiments. Instruments had hitherto 
 been considerably in the background ; they had been very 
 imperfect in construction, and had next to nothing to 
 do with really high class art in any independent form. 
 But the early imperfect types of viols were by degrees 
 improved under the influence of men's growing appre- 
 ciation of beauty of tone and refinement of feeling for 
 execution, and before the end of the sixteenth century 
 the earliest representatives of the unique and incom- 
 parable school of Italian violin-makers were already busy 
 with their inimitable work. In kindred lines of work- 
 manship men arrived at great perfection in the making 
 of those troublesome but very fascinating domestic instru- 
 ments, the lutes of all kinds ; and at the same time the 
 early types of keyed instruments, such as harpsichords or 
 virginals and clavichords and spinets, were rapidly ap- 
 proaching a condition sufficiently practicable to be worthy 
 of the attention of genuine composers ; and organs were 
 passing out of the cumbrous and unmanageable state in 
 which there had to be almost as many bellows as notes, 
 and the notes had to be put down with the whole fist, 
 into a practicable condition which admitted of indepen- 
 dent music being performed upon them. But the music 
 for instruments was in a very backward state, because 
 composers had no idea what to aim at in writing for 
 them. When they wanted something of a superior artistic 
 order for stringed instruments they simply played madri- 
 gals, or wrote music in imitation of any of the varieties 
 of choral music; not realising that without the human 
 tones and the varying degrees of effort and tension in 
 the vocal chords, which gave expression to the rising and 
 
126 MUSIC. 
 
 falling of the melodic material, the effect was pointless 
 and flat. No doubt the skilful treatment of contrapuntal 
 resources made these movements interesting to the per- 
 formers to play ; but apart from such personal considera- 
 tions, all the early music of this kind, produced before 
 the rhythmic treatment appropriate to instruments came 
 into force, is altogether shadowy and colourless, and has 
 no independent artistic status. 
 
 It was different with dance tunes, for in such rhythmic 
 ranges the instruments were in their proper sphere. 
 There is a very large quantity of such music written 
 for stringed instruments and harpsichords which repre- 
 sents the crude and primitive types of later sonatas 
 and suites. They were written by composers of all 
 countries, and an occasional example is met with which 
 has real vivacity and effectiveness ; but for the most part 
 they are singularly clumsy and inartistic, and hardly ever 
 present more than the slightest trace of refined artistic 
 intention. They indicate a dim sense of abstract effect 
 only in the alternations of quick and slow dances, and 
 of dances in rhythm of three or four beats ; and in 
 attempts to regulate the structure into equal and balancing 
 groups of bars. The backward condition of the technique 
 of j)erformance on stringed instruments accounts for a 
 good deal of the crudity and absence of expression in 
 the music written for them. Mankind had to develop 
 their skill in performance quite as slowly and with as 
 much effort as it took them to develop the technique 
 of composition ; and the progress of both has always been 
 to a great extent interdependent. 
 
 The standard of lute music was slightly better. The 
 instrument was very popular in refined sections of society ; 
 and the fact that it required less mechanical ingenuity 
 to bring it to perfection, and that it was very portable 
 and well adapted to the conditions of domestic per- 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC. 127 
 
 formance and to the social arrangements of wealthy 
 people, caused its technique to be brought to a high 
 pitch before that of any other modern instrument. The 
 sort of music written for it in the early days was much 
 like that written for stringed instruments ; and consisted 
 mainly of dance tunes in sets, occasionally of imitations 
 of choral canzonas and madrigals, and occasionally of 
 fanciful movements which would correspond to free pre- 
 ludes or fantasias in modern music. What gives these 
 works a higher importance in relation to later instru- 
 mental music than the early viol music, is, that the 
 element of personal skill and expression is much more 
 apparent, and that the style is on the whole much more 
 independent, and more distinctively instrumental. The 
 development of the ornamental department of music had 
 to be achieved in the same fashion as that of all other 
 features of the art ; and there can be no doubt that the 
 early stages of the invention of the rich and copious 
 store of decorative materials and of decorative principles, 
 which are so characteristic of modern music, were achieved 
 by the early composers for the lute. Even quite early 
 in the sixteenth century, when the great choral style 
 was by no means matured, lute music was already much 
 cultivated ; and though the forms of the movements, such 
 as Ricercare, Passamessos, Preambules, and Pavanas, were 
 at first crude and imperfect, and the ornaments childish 
 and tame, yet they formed the basis of a long and con- 
 tinuous improvement, ultimately finding highly artistic 
 expression in the Ordres of Couperin and the Suites and 
 Partitas of J. S. Bach. 
 
 The music for the harpsichord and its close relatives 
 attained very slight independence in the days of the 
 great choral composers. Arrangements were made of 
 choral music, and imitations of the same were attempted ; 
 and there was a fair quantity of dance tunes similar to 
 
128 MUSIC. 
 
 those written for the violins or viols. Some lute music 
 was adapted, and a certain number of independent fan- 
 tasias and preludes were contrived; which were sometimes 
 written in the choral style, and sometimes cousisted of 
 simple passages of runs and arpeggios. A certain 
 amount of development of decorative material and of 
 technique was achieved, but on the whole this branch 
 of instrumental music was more backward than any other 
 in those days. 
 
 On the other hand, organ music was relatively the most 
 advanced, and the nearest to complete emancipation and 
 independence. The requirements of ecclesiastical func- 
 tions must have made considerable demands on the powers 
 of organists from comparatively early times ; and though 
 the backward state of the mechanism of the instrument 
 prevented them from achieving much distinction by 
 brilliant display, they had ample occasion for experi- 
 menting in solo music, and the results they attained to 
 were as fruitful as they are instructive. As in other 
 branches of instrumental music, they frequently imitated 
 the contrapuntal methods of choral music, and with more 
 appropriate effect. But following the natural instincts of 
 human kind, they endeavoured to adorn these movements 
 with flourishes and turns and all the available resources 
 of ornamental variation. They also developed a kind of 
 performance which, without disrespect, may be compared 
 to very bad and unintelligent modern extemporisation. 
 The systematisation of chord progressions had yet to be 
 achieved, and they were therefore, through lack of oppor- 
 tunity, in much the same position as any very inefficient 
 modern organist is through lack of ability. They had 
 little or no conception of genuine musical ideas of the 
 kind which is adapted to instruments, and the need 
 for purely ornamental performance was the more im- 
 perative. They therefore devised toccatas and fantasias, 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC. 129 
 
 wliich consisted of strings of scale passages, turns, and 
 shakes, ujDon successions of chords which are for the most 
 part completely incoherent. Few things could be more 
 instructive, in respect of the fact that our modern music 
 is purely the fruit of cumulative development of artistic 
 devices, than the entire absence of idea, point, and coher- 
 ence in these early works, which are often the productions 
 of composers who were great musicians and masters of all 
 the resources of refined choral effect. The movements 
 were possibly effective in great churches, from the wild 
 career of the scale-passages in treble, bass, or middle 
 parts, which often rushed (no doubt in moderate tempo) 
 from one end of the instrument to the other. Almost 
 the only structural device which these early organists 
 mastered, was the effect of alternating passages of simple 
 imitation, like those in choral music, as a contrast to 
 the brilliant display of the scales. Further than this 
 in point of design they could not go, except in so far as 
 mere common sense led them to regulate their passages 
 so as to obtain different degrees of fulness in different 
 parts of the movement, and to pile up the effects of 
 brilliant display and gather them all into one sonorous 
 roll of sound at the conclusion. Crude as these works are 
 in design, they were a definite departure in the direction 
 of independent instrumental music on a considerable scale, 
 and were the direct prototy|3es of the magnificent organ 
 works of J. S. Bach. In fact, the branch of organ music 
 has always continued to be more nearly allied to the great 
 style of the choral epoch than any other instrumental 
 form. The first great representative organist, Frescobaldi, 
 was bom in the palmy days of choral music, and made 
 his fame while it was still flourishing; and though the 
 resources of harmonic music were a necessary adjunct 
 to bring this branch to maturity in later days, it did 
 not obliterate the traces of the earlier pol}q)honic style 
 
133 MUSIC. 
 
 so completely as was the case in violin and harpsicliord 
 music, nor did it entirely obscure the time-honoured 
 dignity of the early contrapuntal traditions. In other 
 branches of instrumental music harmonic conditions 
 necessitated the development of an absolutely new style 
 and new methods of art. In organ music the old methods 
 and something of the ancient style were retained, and 
 were only modified by the new conditions so far as was 
 necessary to make the design of the movements syste- 
 matic and intelligible in general and in detail. 
 
 It remains to consider shortly the essential artistic 
 methods and regulations of this great era of art. The 
 prevailing influence which regulated all things in every 
 department of art was fitness for choral performance. 
 There was practically no solo singing, and, as has been 
 pointed out above, the feeling of musicians for instrumental 
 effect was extremely crude and undeveloped. Harmony 
 was primarily the result of voices singing melodious parts 
 simultaneously ; and the highest skill was that which 
 could weave good vocal parts so as to obtain beautiful 
 and interesting successions of chords. In their concep- 
 tion of good vocal parts only the simplest diatonic inter- 
 vals were admissible, and only the very simplest chords. 
 It was unnatural for voices to assume discordant relations 
 with one another directly, so the only discords allowed 
 were such as were purely transitoiy, or such as were 
 obtained by the pretty device of holding one or more 
 notes of a harmonious combination while others moved 
 to positions in the scale which made the stationary ones 
 discordant, till they again resolved themselves into the 
 unity of the harmony. All such discords have a double 
 function ; they supply contrast, and make that departure 
 from unity, which serves as impulse. They impel the 
 movement onward because it is impossible to rest upon 
 discord, and the mind is not satisfied till the source of 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC. 131 
 
 disquiet isv/ intelligibly merged in a more reposeful com- 
 bination. /In a perfect work of musical art there is no 
 absolute point of repose between the outset and the close, l^ 
 To make an entirely satisfying and complete close is to 
 make what follows superfluous.^ The perfect management 
 of such things, even in early stages of art, is much more 
 subtle than it looks. A really great master so adjusts 
 the relative degrees of movement and repose that each 
 step has its perfect relation to the context and to the 
 whole. Every discord must have its resolution, but till 
 the moment of complete repose which brings the work 
 to conclusion, each resolution is only so far complete 
 as to satisfy the mind partially. A problem so com- 
 plicated is probably more than mere calculation could 
 solve, and its difficulty — combined with hundreds of other 
 artistic problems — accounts for the great length of time 
 that human instinct has taken to arrive at the status 
 of modern music. The difficulty also accounts for the 
 variety of standards which are presented at different 
 periods in musical history which are more or less mature 
 in their way. The great composers of choral music dealt 
 in the very simplest and slenderest materials. They 
 reduced the prominence of their points of repose to a 
 minimum by using extremely few discords, even of the 
 gentle kind above described ; and they maintained variety 
 by observing the more delicate shades of difference be- 
 tween the actual qualities of their concords, whose resolu- 
 tions were not so restricted ; and they evaded the feeling 
 of coming to an end in the wrong place by keeping 
 their voice parts constantly on the move, and by avoiding 
 the formulas of their conventional cadences in those parts 
 of the scale which indicated finality. 
 
 It was natural that the representatives of typically 
 different races should adopt artistic methods which led 
 to somewhat diiferent results. The Netherlanders, who 
 
'32 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 took the lead so prominently in the fifteenth century, 
 always had a taste for ingenuity and for subtleties of 
 artistic device. It was their composers who carried the 
 homogeneous form of the canon to such lengths of futile 
 ingenuity; but it was also their great composers who 
 achieved all the most arduous part of the early develop- 
 ment of their craft, and handed it on to the Italians to 
 complete. In the end the work of the Netherlanders is 
 the most characteristic, but that of the Italians most 
 delicately beautiful ; while the English school, which 
 followed both, is far more comprehensive in variety, 
 definiteness, and character, though never attaining to 
 the extraordinary finish and perfection which is met with 
 in Palestrina's work at its best. In the greatest triumphs 
 of Palestrina, Vittoria, and Marenzio, the smooth, easy, 
 masterly flow of separate voice parts seems naturally to 
 result in perfect combinations of sound ; in Lasso's work 
 it is easy to see the deliberate ingenuity which contrives 
 some weird unexpected successions, and makes chords 
 melt into one another in ways which have a touch of 
 magic in them ; and Josquin and Hobrecht, with all the 
 disadvantages of a less mature state of art, suggest the 
 same attitude. With Byrd and Gibbons there is a touch 
 of English hardness and boldness, and in others of the 
 same school a bright and straightforward freshness which 
 is peculiarly characteristic. The English school came to 
 its best days so late as compared with foreign schools 
 that it is no wonder that it shows many traits of a later 
 development of musical art than do the purest Italian 
 examples. But the same premonitions of a great change 
 were also plentifully shown by the adventurous com- 
 posers of Venice ; especially the great Giovanni Gabrieli, 
 who, besides producing many superb examples of the true 
 old choral style, endeavoured to introduce an element 
 of direct expression both in harmony and figure, and 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC. i33 
 
 tried effects of instrumental accompaniment which belong 
 to a different order of art from that of the pure choral 
 era, and were among the precursors of the great change 
 which brought the period of pure choral music to an end. 
 In a general survey of the aspects of this important 
 period of art, the condition of homogeneity and inde- 
 finiteness appears to be universal. This is especially the 
 case in respect of the structure of musical movements. 
 The only form in which a definite principle of procedure 
 , /was maintained from beginning to end was the canon , 
 '^ (which the old masters called Fuga), in which different^ 
 voices sang the same melody throughout the movement 
 a little after one another (see p. 104). The device has 
 occasionally been made interesting by clever treatment in 
 spite of its drawbacks ; but this does not alter the fact 
 that it is inherently mechanical and inartistic by reason 
 of its rigidity and monotony. Of definite principles of 
 design beyond this elementary device these composers had 
 but few. Their treatment of musical figures and melodic 
 material is singularly vague. The familiar modern prac- 
 tice of using a definite subject throughout a considerable 
 portion of a movement, or at certain definite points which 
 have a structural importance, was hardly employed at all. 
 The voices which entered one after another naturally 
 commenced singing the same words to phrases of melody 
 which resembled each other. But composers' ideas of 
 identity of subject matter were singularly elastic, and 
 even if the first half-dozen notes presented similar con- 
 tours in each voice part successively, the melodic forms 
 soon melted into something else, and from that point the 
 movement wandered on its devious way without further 
 reference to its initial phrases. A few cases occur in 
 which composers use a well-defined figure throughout 
 in constant reiteration artistically disposed, but such are 
 accidents of the composer's mood, and any system in such 
 
134 MUSIC. 
 
 things was quite foreign to their aims. The same is the 
 case with all principles of structure either in general or 
 in detail. Occasionally composers produced striking effects 
 by sequences, and by giving 23arallel passages to different 
 groups of voices or balancing choirs, but such devices 
 were not of general application. Occasionally also the 
 beginning and end of a movement were made to corre- 
 spond, but that too was extremely rare. The common 
 modern practice of repeating phrases at long intervals 
 apart is an abstract musical conception ; and its systematic 
 use in art is the result of the development of instrumental 
 form in later times. 
 
 In no respect is the universal absence of definition 
 and variety more noticeable than in the actual musical 
 material or "subjects." Throughout the whole range of 
 the old sacred choral music these are almost without 
 decisive significance. It is true that composers adopted 
 such innocent devices as a long descending scale passage 
 to express the descent into hell, and a formula which 
 might be traced into a cross for the "crucifixus," and 
 a slow passage of simple reiterated chords to express 
 the awe of the worshipper at the thought of the incar- 
 nation, and so on in parallel cases ; but the position 
 occupied by subject matter and figure in their scheme 
 of art is altogether different from that which it occu- 
 pies in the modern scheme.^ The subject indeed barely 
 stands out from its context at all. It is as though the 
 art was still in too nebulous a state for the essential 
 elements to have crystallised into separate and definite 
 entities. This is chiefly the result of the absence of 
 rhythm, without which every melodic contour is to a 
 certain extent wanting in complete definiteness and force. / 1 
 In the matter of expression again the same holds good, 
 as a consequence of the limited and uniform nature of 
 the scales. As each complete piece of music was subject 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC. 135 
 
 to the rule of some special mode, all the sentiments were 
 restricted by its characteristics. If it was what a modern 
 musician would call minor in character, the musical ex- 
 pression for the " Gloria " had to be got out of it as 
 much as that for the " Miserere." And though the use 
 of accidentals modified modal restrictions to a certain 
 extent, it was not sufficient to obviate the fact that in 
 detail a piece of music had to follow the rule and char- 
 acter of the mode rather than the sentiment of the words. 
 Indeed this is so far the rule that the attempt to intro- 
 duce direct expression into the scheme at the expense of 
 modal purity was among the immediate causes of the rapid 
 decay and collapse of the whole system of art. 
 
 In close connection with the limits of expression were 
 the limitations of the actual chord material or harmonies. 
 No great force of expression could be obtained without 
 more powerful dissonance than the scheme allowed. The 
 scheme was based on consonant harmonies ; and the dis- 
 cords, which were mild in character and comparatively 
 rare in use, were no more than artificial modifications of 
 the chain of concords. The incisive striking upon a 
 discord without preliminary was a thing quite alien to 
 the style ; and nothing is more decisive as a sign of the 
 approaching end of pure choral music than the appearance 
 of even the slightest and mildest discord without artificial 
 preparation. 
 
 In the general aspect of music of the choral time the 
 same homogeneousness prevails. Sacred music, by the end 
 of the period, was subdivided under different names into 
 mass music, motets, hymns, psalms, and many other titles ; 
 but as far as style was concerned the distinctions were 
 more nominal than real, for the difference between one 
 and the other was very slight indeed. The main sub- 
 division of the period was into sacred and secular music. 
 But the higher class of secular music was very much like 
 
136 MUSIC. 
 
 sacred music in methods, and not very different even in 
 style ; while the branches of lighter secular music, which 
 differed most from the highest artistic forms in their 
 more rhythmical character and harmonic structure, were 
 as yet limited both in range and development. 
 
 The chief points which were gained in this period were 
 a very fine and delicate sense of the qualities of chords 
 when sung by voices, and the skill in manipulating the 
 melodic progressions of the separate voice parts so as to 
 obtain a very delicate variety in the succession of these 
 chords. While they were achieving this composers un- 
 consciously developed a sense for the classification of such 
 chords (in accordance with their inherent qualities of 
 affinity or contrast) in connection with certain tonal 
 centres. The modification of the modes by accidentals 
 brought the effect of tonality more and more into pro- 
 minence, especially in the cadences; and by these pro- 
 cesses the basis was formed for the new departures which 
 followed, and the materials which formed the groundwork 
 and footing of the structure of the latest modern art were 
 supplied. 
 
CHAPTER YL 
 
 THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 
 
 Without taking into consideration the many external 
 causes wiiich influenced and modified the character of 
 various arts about the end of the sixteenth century, it 
 might have been foreseen that a new departure in music 
 was inevitable on internal and artistic grounds alone. 
 The range of the art had been extremely limited so far ; 
 and though its limitations had conduced to the develop- 
 ment of singularly perfect results, such advantages could 
 not prevent men from wearying of apparent monotony, 
 and becoming restive under restrictions which seemed to 
 be hindrances to the fullest expression of their musical 
 ideals. A reaction, such as in analogous situations in 
 ordinary life drives men accustomed to ease and refine- 
 ment of surroundings to court hardship, danger, and 
 privation, drove men of the highest taste and refinement, 
 and such as were most thoroughly in touch with the spirit 
 and movement of their age, to cut themselves adrift from 
 the traditions of a perfectly mature art — to cast aside the 
 principles which the accumulated observations and efforts 
 of past generations had brought to an admirable practical 
 issue — and adopt a kind of music which was formless, 
 crude, and chaotic. 
 
 The higher type of conservative mind instinctively feels 
 that such well-being as society enjoys, and all the wealth 
 of artistic technique, and the skill by which men achieve 
 all they do well, are the fruits of the experiences and in- 
 telligent efforts of previous generations. To a mind so 
 
138 MUSIC. 
 
 constituted a sweeping rejection of the judgment of ancestry 
 is like cutting away the very ground upon which things 
 are built; and the immediate result of sweeping reforms 
 generally justifies conservative forecasts. To the conserva- 
 tive musician of the early days of the seventeenth century 
 the projects of the enthusiasts who founded modern music 
 must have appeared, as radical reforms generally do, 
 to be based on misconceptions — an outrage to all the best 
 grounded principles of art, and the offspring of brains 
 which were childishly regardless of the most obvious con- 
 sequences. The reformers, with the hopefulness charac- 
 teristic of enthusiasts, thought they could dispense with 
 all the results of past experience and develop a new art 
 on the basis of pure theoretic speculation. They gave 
 up the subtleties of polyphonic writing and the devices 
 which were natural to it ; the beautiful effects obtainable 
 by skilful combinations of voice parts ; the traditions of 
 a noble style, and the restrictions which made it con- 
 sistent and mature; and they thought to make a new 
 heaven and a new earth where secular expression should 
 be free and eloquent without reference to past artistic 
 experience as a guide to the artistic means. 
 
 But they had to adopt unconsciously much that their 
 predecessors had built up for them. It was as often 
 happens in revolutions, when the new constitutions have 
 to be built out of the wisdom of those whose heads have 
 been cut off. Even the earliest experiments were based 
 upon a crude application of chord effects of which they 
 could have had no conception without the development 
 of choral polyphony which their predecessors had labo- 
 riously achieved. Their beginnings were essentially 
 steps made in the dark; and the first results that they 
 achieved had the usual aspects of such steps in reform, 
 and look purely infantile and absolutely ineffective by 
 the side of the artistic works which they were meant 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 139 
 
 to supersede. But nevertheless the event proved the 
 reformers to be perfectly right. For unless they had 
 ventured as they did, and had been as blind as reformers 
 sometimes need to be to immediate consequences, the 
 ultimate building up of the marvellously rich and com- 
 plicated edifice of modern art could never have come 
 about. The conservatives were j^erfectly right in fore- 
 seeing that the methods of the new art would immediately 
 bring the old art to ruin. The reformers were equally 
 right in judging that it was necessary to make that great 
 sacrifice in order that art might obtain a new lease of 
 vitality. 
 
 The objects of the earliest reformers, such as Cavaliere, 
 Caccini, Galilei, and Peri, were very innocent. They had 
 no idea of making astonishing effects, or of attracting 
 attention by meretricious effrontery. They aimed, with a 
 sobriety which was artistic at least in its reticence, at devis- 
 ing means to combine music and poetry, so that the two 
 arts should enhance one another. They tried to find some 
 simple musical way of declaiming sonnets, poems, and plays 
 with a single voice, accompanied by such gentle instru- 
 ments as lutes and harpsichords. The idea was not totally 
 new, for theatrical representations with music and a kind 
 of declamation had been attempted before ; solo music of 
 a kind had been practised by troubadours, trouveres, and 
 various independent secularists ; while instrumental music 
 — which was such an important element in their scheme 
 — had long been cultivated on a small scale, chiefly in 
 short dance movements, bat occasionally also for crude 
 ex^oeriments more of the nature of abstract art. But 
 nevertheless they had to begin almost from the begin- 
 ning and find out the requirements of their art as they 
 went on. At first they seem to have had no idea that 
 any kind of design or even musical figures were required. 
 They thought it sufficient for the solo voice to declaim 
 
I40 MUSIC. 
 
 the poetry in musical sounds whose relations of pitch 
 imitated the inflections of the voice in ordinary declama- 
 tion ; and that it was sufiicient to accompany and support 
 the voice by simple chords, such as they had grown accus- 
 tomed to in the music of the Church and in the simple 
 instrumental music of the early days. Though the com- 
 posers of some of the early dances had already suggested 
 the principle of design by grouping related and contrasted 
 chords, the intelligence of these speculative enthusiasts 
 was at first scarcely so far advanced as lead them to 
 imagine that a similar practice was advisable in music 
 associated with words. Each individual chord as a lump 
 of harmony served to support the voice for the moment ; 
 and the utmost their dormant sense of design seemed 
 to demand in regulating the order of the harmonies, was 
 that in passages which were specially unified by a com- 
 plete verse of the poetry, the same chord should appear 
 at the beginning and at the end of the phrase. The de- 
 velopment of sense for chord relationship had progressed 
 far enough in the days of the great choral music to make 
 men perfectly alive to the effect of the familiar dominant 
 and tonic cadence ; and this the composers of the new 
 style used with great frequency, thereby conclusively 
 defining the actual ends of passages; but the general 
 structure of the passages themselves remained incoherent, 
 because, apart from the cadence, composers did not re- 
 cognise the essential importance of the apposition of the 
 dominant and tonic chords as a means of design. The 
 very necessity of a principle of contrast in the new scheme 
 of art remained to be found out by long experience. In 
 an art so hedged about with limitations as the pure choral 
 art had been, such a principle of contrast was not needed, 
 and the peculiar properties of the old ecclesiastical modes 
 always acted as a hindrance to its discovery ; and they 
 continued to do so for some time after the new music 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 141 
 
 had begun, because the habits and associations of all 
 kinds of music, both secular and sacred, had been formed 
 under the influences of the old modal systems; and 
 these had sunk so deep into men's natures, and had so 
 coloured their habits of thought, that they could only 
 shake themselves free and find their true path by slow 
 degrees. As long as men's minds were so influenced, 
 they constantly made the harmonies move in directions 
 which rendered nugatory the one chord which was neces- 
 sary as a centre of contrast ; and definiteness of design 
 of the harmonic kind was thereby rendered impossible. 
 The essence of design in harmonic music of the modern 
 kind is that groups of chords and whole passages shall 
 have a well-defined connection with certain tonal centres ; 
 and that the centres round which the successive passages 
 are grouped shall have definite and intelligible relations 
 of contrast or affinity with one another. The simplest 
 dance tune or street song is now constructed upon such 
 principles no less than the greatest masterpieces. But 
 the early experimenters had no experience of such effects, 
 and jumbled up their chords together inconsequently. 
 They thought of little beyond varying their order, and 
 supplying a support to the declamation of the voice. 
 The result is that not only each portion of music set 
 to line and verse, but the whole plan of the works, 
 is indefinite in structure, and has next to no principle 
 of necessary cohesion beyond the occurrence of cadences. 
 The course of the early operas wanders on through pages 
 of monotonous recitative, varied only here and there by 
 little fragments of chorus or short dance tunes, which 
 are almost as innocent of melody or design as the 
 recitative itself. 
 
 This obvious condition of homogeneity appears not only 
 in the structure of these works, but also in the expres- 
 sion ; for whether poignant anguish or exuberant joy is the 
 
142 MUSIC. 
 
 theme, there is hardly any variety in the style of the 
 music, which has therefore hardly any function beyond 
 formalising the declamation. In Einuccini's little drama 
 of Euridice the familiar story is relieved of its poignancy, 
 and a good deal of its point, by the success of Orpheus 
 in winning back his lost love from the Shades. Con- 
 sequently the composers had to set both the expression 
 of despair at receiving the news of her death, and of 
 joy at bringing her back to life ; and from the manner 
 in which they addressed themselves to this object much 
 may be learnt. Two important settings of the little 
 drama exist, both of which saw the light in 1600." The 
 best of the two is that by the enthusiastic amateur 
 Jacopo Peri, which was performed at Florence to grace 
 the wedding festivities of Henry IV. of France and 
 Maria Medici. It was not the first work of its kind, 
 but it is the first of which enough remains in a com- 
 plete state to afford safe inferences as to the aims and 
 methods of the new school ; and the manner in which he 
 treated the two highly contrasted situations above alluded 
 to is very instructive. The following is the passage 
 which was then held adequate to express the poignancy 
 of Orpheus' feelings over his loss : — 
 
 Voice. 
 
 Accomp. 
 
 :p=^=pcif»: 
 
 A 1- 
 
 ^-•:^= 
 
 5^3^ 
 
 O pace O vi ■ 
 
 l^ ^^fcE^ 
 
 S3=^ 
 
 ii^ 
 
 m, 
 
 Obi 
 
 ^1 
 
 mi t'lia tol - to 
 
 I I I 
 
 b^ 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 143 
 
 _ ^ ^ et cet. 
 
 fiJL^^^ 
 
 ' 1 — ^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 Fr=?- 
 
 N^t- 
 
 -n — ! 1 
 
 ^ tol - to 
 
 Oln-iiie 
 
 y^^- 
 
 de 
 
 - ve segi - 
 
 - ta 
 
 10 -^ 
 
 W ^ 
 
 -== 
 
 
 
 [:=2= 
 
 
 
 The follo\ying is tlie music in which he expresses his 
 joy at bringing his lost bride back to the light of day : — 
 
 Accomp, 
 
 -:i^i^-^^ 
 
 ;[=tt=t 
 
 
 Ec - CO rim-bom - bi dalle valle as -co - se. 
 
 ^i^^l 
 
 ^=e==E^ 
 
 The texture of the two passages is obviously very 
 
144 MUSIC. 
 
 similar, bat it is well not to overlook tlie points wliich 
 show some sense of adaptation to the respective states 
 of emotion. Both passages afford fair opportunity to 
 a competent singer to infuse expression into the osten- 
 sibly bald phrases. And, besides this, they lend them- 
 selves very happily to the requirements of the situations, 
 and show the justness of the composer's instinct in 
 those respects in which artistic technique is not very 
 essential. For the phrases which express bereavement 
 and sorrow are tortuous, irregular, spasmodic — broken 
 with catching breath and wailing accent; whereas the 
 expression of joy is flowing, easy and continuous, and 
 unusually well defined and regular in form, approaching 
 as nearly to the types of modern harmonic art as was 
 possible in those days. Such general points as these can 
 be effected by intelligent beings without much training 
 or experience; but the details are carried out crudely 
 and baldly, for the day was still far off when men learnt 
 how to make anything artistically appropriate of the 
 instrumental accompaniment. 
 
 There is very little in the works of the other represen- 
 tatives of this new departure which indicates views or skill 
 in any special degree superior to Peri's. Caccini's setting 
 of the same drama of Euridice is in general character 
 very like Peri's. It has the same monotonous expanses 
 of recitative with accompaniment of figured bass, and 
 similar short fragments of chorus, consisting of a few 
 bars at a time, written with quite as obvious a lack of 
 sense for choral effect. Perhaps the most noteworthy 
 point is that, being one of the earliest solo singers of 
 repute, and the father of a famous cantatricc, he intro- 
 duced roulades and ornamental passages for the singers ; 
 thereby devising some of the first formulas, and pre- 
 figuring even in those early days the tasteless and sense- 
 less excesses of vain show which disgrace certain schools 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 
 
 '45 
 
 of modern opera. The following passage is from Caccini's 
 Euridice : — 
 
 Accomp. 
 
 m 
 
 do al cie 
 
 It is noteworthy that these flourishes usually occur close to 
 the end of verses and phrases, just as simpler ones do in 
 the old German folk-songs. Caccini wrote a book about 
 the " Nuove Musiche " which described the objects of the 
 reformers; and in this work he gave some examples of 
 the way in which short poems might be set for a solo 
 voice, which serve as almost the earliest examples of 
 consciously contrived solo-songs with instrumental accom- 
 paniment, as distinguished from folk-songs. These also 
 serve to emphasise the very slight sense which the com- 
 posers had of the need for design, or of the possibility 
 of obtaining such a thing by the distribution of the har- 
 monic successions. What remains of Emilio Cavaliere's 
 work is similar in character, and shows almost as vague 
 a sense of design. The iutroduction to his one Oratorio 
 is the finest piece of work left by this group of com- 
 
146 MUSIC. 
 
 posers, and is a very noble and impressive monument of 
 the man, of whom we know but little beyond the fact 
 that the invention of recitative is attributed to him by his 
 fellow composers. To judge from this piece of work he 
 must have been of larger calibre than they were. Here 
 and there he even shows some sense of modulation as a 
 means of effect, and of consistent use of tonality ; but in 
 texture and artistic treatment of detail he is almost as 
 backward as the rest of his contemporaries. 
 
 Though there were a few composers who held by the 
 old traditions, most of the men of marked powers and 
 energy were attracted by the new methods, and by the 
 escape it afforded them from the drudgery of musical ^p 
 education. They soon became conscious of new require- 
 ments in their line of work, and the early homogeneous 
 experiments were very soon improved upon. The most 
 noteworthy of all the representatives of the style was 
 Monteverde, whose adventurous genius found a congenial 
 field in such a state of art ; and who gave the impress of 
 his personality to a branch of histrionic music which has 
 maintained certain well-defined characteristics from that 
 day till this. It may well be doubted if Monteverde would 
 ever have succeeded in a line of art which required con- 
 centration and logical coherence of musical design. He 
 seems to have belonged to that familiar type of artists 
 who regard expression as the one and only element of 
 importance. He had been educated in the learning of 
 the ancients, but had early shown his want of submission 
 to the time-honoured restrictions by using chords and 
 progressions which were out of place in the old choral 
 style. He had endeavoured to introduce effects of strong 
 expression into an order of art which could only retain 
 its aspect of maturity by excluding all such direct forms 
 of utterance. A decisive harshness breaking upon the 
 ear without preliminary was shortly to become a necessity 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 147 
 
 to musical mankind, but to tlie old order of things it 
 was tlie omen of immediate dissolution. The methods of 
 choral art did not provide for dramatic force or the utter- 
 ance of passionate feeling ; and under such circumstances 
 it was natural that Monteverde should misapply his special 
 gifts, which were all in the direction of dramatic expres- 
 sion. The new di'parture, when it came, was his oppor- 
 tunity. He was not ostensibly a sharer in the first steps 
 of the movement; but directly he joined it he entirely 
 eclipsed all other composers in the field, and in a few 
 years gave it quite a new complexion. For whereas the 
 first composers had not laid any great stress on expression, 
 Monteverde's instinct and aim was chiefly in that direc- 
 tion ; and he often sought to emphasise his situations at 
 all costs. His harmonic progressions are for the most 
 part as incoherent as those of his predecessors, and, as 
 might be expected with his peculiar aptitudes, he did very 
 little for design. But he clearly had a very considerable 
 sense of stage effect, and realised that mere monotonous 
 recitative was not the final solution nor even the nucleus of 
 dramatic music. It is true he introduces a great quantity 
 of recitative, but he varies it with instrumental interludes 
 which now and then have some real point and relevancy 
 about them ; and with passages of solo music which have 
 definite figure, and expression, and with choruses which 
 are more skilfully contrived, and to a certain degree more 
 effective than those of his predecessors. By this means 
 he broke up the homogeneous texture of the scenes 
 into passages of well-defined diversity, and interested his 
 auditors with contrast, variety, and conspicuously charac- 
 teristic passages, which heighten the impression of situa- 
 tions as all stage music should. 
 
 His ideas of instrumental music were very crude, but 
 nevertheless immensely in advance of the works of his pre- 
 decessors. Where they had been satisfied with a single line 
 
148 MUSIC. 
 
 and figures to indicate to the lute jDlayers and cembalists 
 the chords they were to use, he brought together a large 
 band of violins, viols, lutes, trumpets, flutes, trombones, a 
 harpsichord, and other instruments, and in special parts of 
 his works gave some of them definite parts to play, and 
 distributed them with some sense of effect and relevancy. 
 His experiments sometimes look childish, but in several 
 cases they are the types which only wanted more 
 experienced handling to become j)ermanent features of 
 modern orchestral music. His instinct led him to make 
 his work more definite and alive in detail than the 
 earlier experiments had been ; and though it was too 
 early for the articulations of the structure to become 
 distinct, his style of work is a very clear foreshadowing 
 of the state which was bound to ensue. He was especially 
 conspicuous as the first composer who aimed decisively 
 at histrionic effect, and he originated the tradition whicli 
 passed through Cavalli and Lulli into France and ulti- 
 mately made that country its home ; while Italy fell under 
 the spell of a different theory of art and became the 
 special champion of design and beauty of melody. 
 
 The immediate source of this important change in 
 the Italian course of musical development was a reaction 
 from the crude speculativeness of the new style in favour 
 of a revival of the old methods of choral art; and its 
 fruit was an endeavour to adapt what was applicable 
 of those methods to the new theories. The change 
 which came over the new music was so rapid and 
 complete, that it proves that humanity took very little 
 time to realise that something more was wanted than 
 mere moment-to-moment setting of the words of a poem 
 or the scenes of a play. Men who were masters of the 
 technique of the old choral art, such as Giovanni Gabrieli 
 at Venice, tried to apply it in new ways in conformity 
 with the spirit of the new theories ; introducing sino-iilar 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 149 
 
 experiments of a realistic character, and some remarkable 
 experiments in expression by harmony. This type of art 
 was carried by his interesting pupil, Schiitz, into Germany, 
 and by him the first advances were made in the direction 
 of that peculiarly earnest, artistic, and deeply emotional 
 style which is the glory of German music. Each of 
 these and many others contributed their share to the 
 progress of the movement ; but circumstances give pecu- 
 liar prominence to Carissimi, whose experience and 
 genuine feeling for the old artistic methods gave him a 
 good hold upon the artistic possibilities of the new, and 
 helped his judgment to distinguish between what was 
 mere experimental extravagance and what was genuinely 
 artistic expression. He had not the inventiveness or the 
 force and character of Monteverde, but he had more 
 sense of beauty, both of form and sound, and a better 
 artistic balance. This may have been owing to the fact 
 that he did not write for the stage, and was less tempted 
 to trespass in the direction of crude expression. His 
 most important works are in the line of oratorio, and can 
 hardly have been intended (as the earliest oratorios were) 
 to have been represented with scenery and action. In 
 these oratorios he shows a decided revival of the sense 
 for choral effect; but it is noteworthy that the effect 
 produced by his choral writing is very different from the 
 old style. The sense for harmonic design is conspicuously 
 perceptible, and it is obvious that he tries to apply his skill 
 in part writing to the ends of expression. The choruses are 
 often constructed on bold and simple series of chords, and 
 the figures written for the voices strongly resemble pas- 
 sages which are familiar in Handel's choruses — both florid 
 and plain. In his solo music Carissimi is much more 
 refined and artistic than Monteverde ; and though he 
 falls behind him in strength of emotional character, he 
 reaches at times a very high degree of pathos and sad- 
 
I50 MUSIC. 
 
 uess, and has a good hold ou many varieties of human 
 feeling. The greater part of the solo music is recitative, 
 but it is of a more regular and definite type than that 
 of his predecessors, and often approaches to clear melodic 
 outlines ; while there are plenty of examples of solo music 
 in which the reiteration of a characteristic phrase in con- 
 trasting and corresponding portions of the scale gives the 
 effect of completeness of design. Thus the art of choral 
 music sprang into new life through the impulse to express 
 dramatic feeling in terms of harmonic design as well as 
 of counterpoint, while solo music gained definition through 
 the same imjDulse to make it expressive and intelligible 
 in form. 
 
 But instrumental music still hung fire. For that 
 Carissimi seemed to have but little instinct. Possibly 
 he concentrated so much of his artistic impulse on choral 
 music that his mind was distracted from giving atten- 
 tion to the possibilities of purely instrumental effect. By 
 comparison with his skill in vocal effect his instrumental 
 experiments seem too often very crude and tame, and 
 even inferior to Monteverde's in point. But it may be 
 judged that the feeling for instrumental effect was de- 
 veloping among musicians, for Cesti and Stradella (who 
 were younger contemporaries of Carissimi) both show a 
 very considerable skill for that time in writing string 
 accompaniments to their solos and choruses, using the 
 kind of figures which are familiar to the world in 
 Handel's works. Both these composers, moreover, show 
 a very great advance in feeling for design in vocal 
 melody. Cesti's little arias and melodies from cantatas 
 and operas are often as completely modelled and as 
 definite, both in contours and periods, as the best of 
 Handel's. They are not developed to the extent of 
 similar works of the later age ; but as far as they go 
 they show a very keen instinct for balancing phrases. 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 151 
 
 distributing cadences, dovetailing passages, presenting 
 musical figures in various aspects, and contriving good 
 stretches of thoroughly vocal melody, Stradella's genius 
 was of a different cast, and expresses a different group 
 of types of sentiment. That in itself is a proof of the 
 widening out of art into heterogeneousness in its larger 
 aspects. But the tendency to give the effect of definite 
 design is as clear in Stradella's work as in Cesti's. 
 Stradella had a very remarkable instinct for choral 
 effect, and even for piling up progressions into a climax ; 
 and his solo music, though apparently not so happy in 
 varieties of spontaneous melody as Cesti's, aims equally 
 at definiteness of structure. His work in the line of 
 oratorio is specially significant ; as he stands comparatively 
 alone in cultivating all the natural resources of that 
 form of art — on the lines which Handel adopted later — 
 at a time when his fellow-composers were falling in 
 with the inclination of their public for solo singing, and 
 were giving up the grand opportunities of choral effect 
 as superfluous. Indeed the branch of oratorio had to 
 wait for representatives of more strenuous nations for 
 its ultimate development. But in other respects Italy 
 continued as much as ever to be the centre of musical 
 progress. The Thirty Years' War and its attendant miseries 
 crushed all musical energy out of Germany, and the Civil 
 War in England delayed the cultivation of the new methods 
 there, while in France the astute craft of Lulli obtained 
 so exclusive a monopoly of musical joerformances, that he 
 extinguished her own composers in his lifetime, and left 
 native musical impulse paralysed at his death. 
 
 The career of this Italian Lulli illustrates very deci- 
 sively the manner in which artistic developments follow 
 the lines of least resistance, by the simple process of sub- 
 mitting to be guided by the predilections of the public 
 for whom the works of art are devised. Lulli was trans- 
 
152 MUSIC. 
 
 planted into France and into the service of the Court in 
 early years ; and he had ample time and opportunity for 
 discovering what French tastes were, and for applying 
 his versatility to meet lively demands which afforded 
 excellent jn'ospects of profuse remuneration. Lulli was 
 undoubtedly made to perceive very early that French 
 taste ran in the direction of the theatre, and more espe- 
 cially in favour of dancing and spectacular effect in con- 
 nection with it. He had to provide ballet airs for the 
 King and the Court to dance and masquerade to, and 
 plentiful practice developed in him a very notable skill 
 in knitting these dance tunes into compact and definite 
 forms, and varying their character so as to get the best 
 effect out of groups of them. The necessity for meeting 
 the artificial requirements of these masquerades (which 
 were like the English Court masques) taught him how 
 to plan scenes with due sense of effect. It is even 
 possible that he was put in the way of the scheme he 
 adopted by the French themselves ; as Cambert, the 
 native comjDoser whom he extinguished, had used the 
 same plan in his operatic works which Lulli afterwards 
 stereotyped on a larger scale. In the vocal solo part 
 of his work Lulli had opportunity to study the latest 
 and most popular models when Monteverde's famous 
 pupil Cavalli came to Paris to conduct some of his operas 
 for Court festivals. The Italians had not up to that time 
 given much attention to ballet music, so Cavalli had not 
 been called upon to develop his talents in that direction. 
 But to make his works acceptable to the French public 
 ballet was indispensable ; so young Lulli was called upon 
 to fit out Cavalli's work with the necessary tunes, and 
 through being associated with him he gained the oppor- 
 tunity to study the methods of the foremost Italian opera 
 composer in respect of recitative, declamation, and treat- 
 ment of the vocal part of his work. 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 153 
 
 Under these circumstances Lulli developed a scheme of 
 opera which was more mature and complete than any- 
 other of his century. The texture of his work on the 
 whole is crude and bald, but the definition of the various 
 items which go to make up his operatic scheme is com- 
 plete as far as it goes, and he certainly made up his very 
 astute mind as to the character which each several portion 
 and feature of his work required. 
 
 In the first place, the type of his overture is thoroughly 
 distinct, and very happily conceived as an introduction 
 to what follows. It begins almost invariably with a broad 
 and massive slow movement, which serves as an excellent 
 foundation, and is followed by a quick energetic movement 
 in a loosely fugal style, prefiguring the type of Handel's 
 overtures to operas and oratorios. The play itself commonly 
 begins with an introductory scene, often mythological, 
 which comprises choruses, dances, and such other features 
 as obviously imply spectacular display and much group- 
 ing of people on the stage, and lend themselves to a 
 good deal of musical sound and animation. The drama 
 proper is interpreted mainly in accompanied recitative, 
 interspersed with frequent snatches of ballet and a few 
 definite pieces for solo; and most of the acts end with 
 choruses and massing of crowds on the stage to give 
 weight and impressiveness to the final climax. 
 
 Lulli shows excellent sense of relief and proportion in 
 1/ the general planning and laying out of the musical ele- y 
 ments in the scenes, and in the relations of the respective 
 acts and scenes to one another; and he is conspicuously 
 successful for his time in shaking himself free from the 
 ecclesiastical associations of the modes, and adopting a 
 thoroughly secular manner. Where modern methods were 
 wanting or undeveloped, as in his overtures, he had to 
 fall back on the methods of the old choral art and write 
 in fugal or contrapuntal style ; but it is clear that lie was 
 
154 MUSIC. 
 
 not very solidly grounded in the traditional " science " of 
 music, and was therefore all the more free to work out 
 his scheme in the harmonic style and with more of the 
 spirit of modern tonality. His instinct of the need for 
 orderliness and system in his musical material was in 
 advance of his age ; but the realisation of principles of 
 design was still very backward, and he had to use such 
 means of definition as came in his way. He was among 
 the first to make a notable use of what is called the aria 
 form, which consists of three well-defined sections, the 
 first and last corresponding in key and musical material, 
 and the central one supplying contrasts in both these 
 respects. It is essentially the simplest form in music, 
 and might well be called primary form, but in connection 
 with opera it has gained the title of aria-form through 
 its much too frequent and much too obvious use. The 
 conventions of opera were not sufiiciently stereotyped for 
 Lulli to use it as his successors did, and he fortunately 
 experimented in other forms which are more interesting 
 and more elastic. One, of which he makes frequent and 
 very ingenious use, is the time-honoured device of the 
 ground bass. This is a principle of unifying a whole 
 movement or passage by repeating the same formula of 
 notes in the bass over and over again. It is attractive to 
 a composer of any real capacity; for the developing of 
 contrast, diversity of sentiment, and variety of harmony 
 and melody upon the same framework requires a good 
 deal of musical aptitude.^ The reason why Lulli and 
 other composers of his time, such as Stradella and Purcell, 
 made such frequent use of it was that the principles of 
 real harmonic form of the modern order — based upon 
 classification of harmonies— were still unsettled, and they 
 had to adopt principles of design which, like canon and 
 fugue, belonged to homogeneous types, and did not in 
 themselves imply an inherent principle of contrast. But 
 
K 
 
 THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 155 
 
 the fact tliat Lulli used it, and other principles of like 
 
 nature, shows how decisively the human mind was waking 
 
 up to the need of clear design and coherence in art, which i^^ 
 
 the early experimenters in opera and cantata had regarded 
 
 as superfluous. 
 
 Lulli's type of opera was an immense advance upon the 
 first experiments in plan, in definiteness of expression and 
 rhythm, and in variety of subdivision into the component 
 ballet movements, choruses, instrumental interludes, arias, 
 recitatives, and so forth; and though the plan of the 
 drama was very artificial and mechanically subservient 
 to stage effect, the character of the music followed the 
 character of the story from moment to moment very suc- 
 cessfully, and there is singularly little of superfluous orna- 
 ment or of passages introduced for the purpose of display. 
 Indeed the dignity and expressiveness of most of the decla- 
 matory portions of these works are creditable alike to Lulli 
 and to his audiences. The operas are mainly defective iu 
 the very limited sense of instrumental effect which they 
 imply ; in the monotony of the full accompaniments, the 
 absence of artistic refinement and skill of workmanship 
 in detail, and in the general stiffness of style. The nucleus 
 of Lulli's band was a set of strings ; probably violins at the 
 top and a group of viols for lower and inner parts, accom- 
 panied by a harpsichord, which was played from figured 
 bass. These instruments are used in a very mechanical 
 manner to supply dull harmonies, without attempt at 
 figuration or any process to lighten or enliven the bass 
 and filling in. The strings are supplemented occasionallv 
 by trumpets, flutes, hautboys, and other familiar wind 
 instruments to increase the mass of sound and to supply 
 variety of colour on special occasions. But the obvious- 
 ness of these occasions shows how little craving or sense 
 musicians had as yet for variety of colour. The hautboys 
 serve to give local colour to rustic scenes, and the trumpets 
 
156 MUSIC. 
 
 and drums are called in to illustrate martial ones, and so 
 forth ; but less obvious occasions call for no distinctive 
 use of such devices. There is no delicate adjustment of 
 either mass of sound or special tone for artistic ends. 
 The whole group of strings plays constantly together in 
 a monotonous and mechanical manner — extremely homo- 
 geneous — in all movements which are "accompanied;" 
 and recitatives and solo movements have only bass with 
 figures, for which the accomjjanyist at the harpsichord 
 supplied the details. It is especially this weakness and 
 ineffectiveness in instrumental matters which would make 
 even the best of Lulli's operas unendurable to a modern 
 audience. He was also necessarily backward in feeling / 
 for the actual effects of modulation and for its value as 
 an element of form, for the principles of modern tonality 
 were still undeveloped; but in many respects his work is 
 very noteworthy, and not only indicated principles which 
 great composers afterwards adopted as the bases of further 
 developments, but established a form of art which has 
 served as the groundwork for the later development of 
 the French grand opera ; while his theatrical instinct 
 strengthened the order of essentially histrionic music 
 which has survived and sometimes even flashed into 
 brilliant conspicuousness in modern times. 
 
 In Italy, meanwhile, the tastes of the nation soon influ- 
 enced the course of operatic development, and impelled it 
 into a different path from that taken by French opera. 
 The tendency which is most apparent at this time is the 
 growing feeling for simplicity and clearness of form, and 
 distinctness and amenity of melody. The Italians gravi- 
 tated away from strong direct dramatic expression, and 
 indeed from immediate expression of any kind, and en- 
 deavoured merely to illustrate situations as they presented 
 themselves by the general sentiment of an entire move- 
 ment or an entire passage of melody ; thus breaking 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. I57 
 
 away altogether from tlie path whicli Moutevercle had 
 chosen, and leaving it for other nations to follow up to 
 important results. The mission of the Italians at this 
 time was undoubtedly to lay the foundations of modern 
 harmonic art, and to establish those primary relations of 
 harmonies which are the basis of the modern principles 
 of musical design. A certain native easy-going indolence 
 seems to have directed them into the road they chose, 
 while the development of melody of the operatic type 
 (which in itself is equivalent to linear design) sprang 
 from the gift and instinct of the nation for singing. 
 As the century progressed composers became more skilful 
 in the management of their instrumental accompaniments, 
 and more clear about the plan of their operas as wholes, 
 organising the acts into well-defined portions, consisting 
 of instrumental preludes (called either overtures or sin- 
 fonias), interludes, recitatives, airs, and even fairly de- 
 veloped choruses. The most important results obtained in 
 these respects are summed up in the work of Alessandro 
 Scarlatti, who became the most prominent composer of his 
 time in opera and church music, and no mean master of in- 
 strumental music of the old kind. But the most important 
 part of his contribution to the progress of his art is in 
 the department of opera. The most obvious trait in his 
 career, which typifies the tendencies of his time, was the 
 manner in which he played into the hands of the solo 
 singers. It is singular that a man of such real genius and 
 of such high artistic responsibility of character should have 
 done more than any one to establish that prominence of 
 the solo singer in opera which has in after times been 
 its most fatal impediment. He of course had no idea of 
 the evils to which his practice would lead. The operatic 
 form was still young, and its field was not yet sufl&ciently 
 explored to make it clear in what directions danger lay; 
 and Scarlatti was led, mainly by his instinct for musical 
 
158 MUSIC. 
 
 design, to ignore obvious inconsistency in the dramatic 
 development of the plays that he set, in order to obtain a 
 complete musical result which satisfied his own particular 
 instinct and the tastes of his Italian audiences. 
 
 The history of opera from first to last has been a sort of 
 struggle between the musical and the dramatic elements ; 
 which has resulted in an alternate swaying to and fro, in 
 course of which at one time the musical material was for- 
 malised and made artistically complete at the expense of 
 dramatic truth, and at another the music was made sub- 
 servient to the development of the play. Now that the 
 methods and material of art have developed to such a 
 marvellous degree of richness and variety, it is easy to see 
 that nothing short of the existing profusion admits of both 
 the literary and musical sides being equally respected and 
 being equally satisfactory from the artistic point of view. 
 In the early days it was inevitable that one of the two 
 should give way, and owing to the peculiarities of the 
 Italian disposition, it was not on the musical side that 
 the concessions were made. Scarlatti aimed at making 
 the units of his operatic scheme musically complete, and 
 he succeeded so far that his independent solo movements, 
 called arias, are often beautiful works of art. But the 
 drama, under the conditions which he established, became 
 merely the excuse for stringing a number of solo j^ieces 
 together, and for distributing them so as to illustrate con- 
 trasting moods and types of sentiment. The story of the 
 draina may be dimly felt in the background in such works, 
 but it would be the last thing about which the amateur 
 of Italian o])era would concern himself much. Appa- 
 rently even the spectacular effect was more considered, 
 because it was less likely to interfere with the composer's 
 uncompromising attitude. It soon followed that the 
 interests of the individual siugers became the most 
 powerful influence in regulating the scheme, and the type 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 159 
 
 of art became tliorongbly vicious and one-sided. The 
 public concentrated so much attention on the soloists that 
 opera became a mere entertainment in which certain 
 vocalists sang, as at an ordinary concert, a series of arias 
 which were carefully adapted to show off their particular 
 gifts. There was a great deal of management required, 
 and the skill of the composer was taxed to devise 
 various types of passages suitable to the several per- 
 formers. He had to take his soloists with their special 
 gifts as so many settled quantities, and work out a scheme 
 which admitted of their appearing in a certain order, as 
 regulated by their popularity, money worth, or personal 
 vanity ; and out of these quantities, whose order was thus 
 mainly prearranged for him, he had to obtain an effective 
 distribution of types of sentiment and style. It was like 
 making patterns with counters of different shapes; and 
 though the process was a mechanical one, it was a field 
 for the expenditure of a good deal of ingenuity, and one 
 not unprofitable to the musical art, because it necessitated 
 the development of so many varieties of melodic figure 
 and vocal phrase. 
 
 Scarlatti fell in with the necessities of the situation 
 so completely that he poured out opera after opera in 
 which all the solo pieces were in the same form, and 
 that the simplest conceivable. The principle of state- 
 ment, contrast, and restatement so completely answered 
 his requirements that he did not even take the trouble 
 to write out the restatement ; but after writing out in 
 full his first section, and the section which established 
 the principle of contrast, he directed the first section to 
 be repeated to make the aria complete, by the simple 
 words "da capo." These arias were interspersed with 
 passages of recitative, which, from the musical side of 
 the question, served as breathing space between one aria 
 and anotlier, and prevented their jostling one another; 
 
i6o MUSIC. 
 
 while ou the dramatic side they served to carry on the 
 plainer parts of the dialogue. It is note^Yorthy that both 
 his recitative and his instrumental ritornels are less char- 
 acteristic than Monteverde's had been. The practical 
 composer realised that the public did not care much 
 about them, and he did not care to exj^end superfluous 
 effort. All Italian composers soon gave up attempting 
 to put any expression into their recitatives, and made 
 them as near as possible mere formalised declamation — 
 sometimes not even declamation, but formalised talk. 
 Moreover the progressions of the accompanying chords 
 became as aimless and empty as the progressions of the 
 voice, so that the effect depended solely upon the skill 
 of the singer in delivery ; and this retrogi'ade tendency 
 produced as its natural result one of the most detestable 
 conventions in all the range of art ; which has helped 
 to kill works which contain many grand and beautiful 
 features, because the amount of senseless rigmarole with 
 which they are mated is positively unendurable. 
 
 Scarlatti exerted himself occasionally in ensemble move- 
 ments, but the only department in which he made as 
 important a mark as in his arias was in his overtures. 
 The progress made in instrumental performance, and the 
 attention which music for violins was beginning to attract, 
 gave him the opportunity to improve the status of certain 
 instrumental portions of his work. Some of his overtures 
 are bright, definite, and genuinely instrumental in style. 
 He commonly wrote them in three or four short move- 
 ments, distributed in the order familiar in modern sym- 
 phonies. When he used three movements, the first was 
 a solid allegro, corresponding to the first movement of 
 the average modern sonata ; the second was a short slow 
 movement aiming at expression ; and the third a lively 
 allegro ; and this scheme came to be universally adopted 
 even till the time of Mozart, who wrote his early opera 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. i6t 
 
 overtures in tliis form. AVhen four movements were 
 w.ritten the scheme was practically the same, as the first 
 was merely a slow introduction. These little symphonies 
 were generally scored with a certain amount of skill 
 and elasticity for a group of stringed instruments, with 
 the occasional addition of a few wind instruments, such as 
 trumpets. As the principles of harmonic form were still 
 undetermined, the style was necessarily rather contra- 
 puntal ; but the feeling for tonality is always conspicuously 
 present in the general outline of the movements. There 
 is nothing in them of instrumentation of the modern kind, 
 and the movements are necessarily short and compact ; 
 but the nucleus, such as it was, served as the foundation 
 upon which the scheme of modern symphony was based. 
 In course of time these opera overtures (which often went 
 by the name of " symphonies ") were played apart from 
 the operas to which they belonged, and then similar works 
 were written without operas to follow them ; and as the 
 feeling for instrumentation and the understanding of 
 principles of development and of harmonic design im- 
 proved, the scheme was widened and enriched and diver- 
 sified till it appeared in its utmost perfection in the great 
 works of Beethoven. 
 
 It is surprising how early national predispositions show 
 themselves in music. They are often more decisively 
 apparent in an early and immature state of art than at 
 later periods ; because the special success and prominence 
 of any one nation in things artistic causes other nations 
 which are more slow to develop to imitate their devices 
 and methods in the intermediate state of art, and thus 
 to belie their own true tastes for a time till they have 
 attained sufficient skill to utter things consistent with 
 their own natures, and shake off the alien manner. As 
 early as the seventeenth century both Germany and 
 England showed the tendencies which are evidently 
 
i62 MUSIC. 
 
 engrained in their musical dispositions, and wliicli have 
 been carried by the Germans to very extreme lengths. 
 The real bent of both nations is the same. In sense 
 of external beauty they are neither of them so keen or 
 so apt as Italians, and during the period in which beauty 
 was the jDrincipal aim of art they had to follow the 
 lead of the more precocious nation. But though the 
 resources of art were not adequate to the ends of charac- 
 teristic expression, the natural instinct of the northern 
 nations in that direction is shown in a great number of 
 instances. It appears mainly in two aspects. One is 
 the use of curious daring roughnesses and harshnesses in 
 chords and progressions. Thus Heinrich Schlitz in his 
 choral works frequently contrived strange chords to repre- 
 sent his feeling of the spirit of the words. In his setting 
 of the first Psalm the words "in the counsel of the 
 ungodly" are expressed as follows: — 
 
 i 
 
 Im Rath et cet. 
 
 I 
 
 S 
 
 =^=gl=— I^ 
 
 r — \ 
 
 *#g: 
 
 Im Rath der Gott - lo 
 
 In the late phase of the madrigal period, which was 
 almost exclusively centred in England, composers aimed 
 at characteristic expression of the words far oftener than 
 the great Italian masters had done ; and they often showed 
 that tendency towards realistic expression which Purcell 
 carried to such an excess. Purcell was indeed the greatest 
 musical genius of his age, but his lines were cast in most 
 unfortunate places. His circumstances put him completely 
 out of touch with the choral methods of the great period ; 
 and the standards and models for the new style, and 
 the examples of what could and what could not be done, 
 were so deficient that his judgment went constantly 
 astray; and in trying to carry out his ideals according 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 
 
 t63 
 
 to the principles of the "new music" he occasionally 
 achieves a marvellous stroke of real genius, and not un- 
 frequently falls into the depths of bathos and childishness. 
 The experiments which he made in expression, under the 
 same impulse as Schiitz in church choral music, are quite 
 astounding in crudeness, and almost impossible to sing; 
 while in secular solo music (where he is more often highly 
 successful) he frequently adopts realistic devices of a 
 quaintly innocent kind, for lack of resources to utter 
 otherwise his expressive intentions : — 
 
 do glide 
 
 Precisely in the same spirit Schiitz describes the angel 
 descending from heaven at the resurrection as follows : — 
 
 tJ 
 
 i 
 
 1^-m- 
 
 ■t^ 
 
 ::^v: 
 
 Der En - gel des Her-reii steig vom Him - mel her -'*'iib 
 
 And when he rolls away the stone from the sepulchre 
 he does it in this wise — 
 
 zet den Stein 
 
 In the instrumental line the works of the early Italian 
 violinists form a very important historical landmark. The 
 development of the art of violin-making to the unsur- 
 passable pitch attained by the great Italian violin-makers, 
 such as the Amatis, Guarnerius, Stradivari, and Bergonzi 
 naturally coincided with a remarkable development oi 
 the technique of violin-playing. The crude ex^ieriments 
 
 ;i^ 
 
1 64 MUSIC. 
 
 of earlier generations in dance movements, fantasias, 
 variations, and movements copied from types of choral 
 music, were superseded by a much more mature and 
 artistic class of work, in which the capabilities of the 
 violin for expression and effect were happily brought 
 into play. The art gained immensely for a time through 
 composers being also performers, for they understood 
 better than any one what forms of figure and melody 
 were most easily made effective. They made a good many 
 experiments in diverse forms, and ultimately settled down 
 to the acceptance of certain definite groups of movements 
 whose order and arrangement approved themselves to their 
 instincts. The scheme is in the main always the same, 
 consisting of dignified animation to begin with, expressive 
 slow cantabile for the centre, and light gaiety to end with. 
 And it may be noted in passing that this too is in con- 
 formity with that universal principle of design which it 
 seems to be the aim of all music to achieve ; and almost 
 all modern works in which several movements are grouped 
 together are mainly variations of it, or outcomes of the 
 essential artistic necessity of contrast and restatement. 
 The names the violin composers gave to their works were 
 various. A Sonata da Camera was mainly a group o f 
 dance m ovements, essentially secular in style : a Sonata da 
 Chiesa was a group of abstract movements in more serious 
 s tyle, generally comprising a fugue or some other contra - 
 I3 untal movement, derived ulti mately from the old cboral 
 music. Concertos were v ariable in thei r constitue nts, and 
 were written for more mstruments. The modern sonata 
 was an outcome of all three, and of the general development 
 of instrumental expression and tec hnique, which also went 
 on under the_jiame s of Suite s, Lessons, Ordres, Partitas, 
 and many other titles. Corelli's works stand at the head 
 of all these types, and indeed of all modern instrumental 
 music, for hardly anything written before his time appeals 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 165 
 
 to the luoderu hearer as being sufficiently mature to be 
 tolerable; and though in point of technique his range 
 was rather limited, he managed to produce something 
 which in its way is complete, well-balanced, and ijerfectl y 
 a dapted to the requirements of instrumental performanc e. 
 The appearance of crude helplessness and uncertainty 
 which characterises the works of earlier composers is no 
 longer jDerceptible, and his compositions rest securely 
 upon their own basis. This was indeed an extremely 
 important step to have achieved, and can hardly be 
 overrated as an epoch in art. All music whatever wh ich 
 was of any dimensions, except rambling fantasias, organ 
 toccatas, and co ntrapuntal fugues, had hitherto been 
 dependent on words f or its full intelligibilit y. Real 
 artisti c develo^^ment, indei3endent of such connection, had 
 not been possible ti ll men changed their ]3oint of vie w 
 and dev eloped their feeling for tonality and for the 
 cla ssification of harm ony. 
 
 Corelli's methods are ostensibly contrapuntal, but it is 
 noteworthy that his is not the old kind of couuteiijoint, 
 but rather an artistic treatment of part-writing, which 
 assimilates into chords whose progressions are adapted to 
 the principles of modern tonality. He uses sequences for 
 the purposes of form, and modulatious for purposes of 
 contrast and balance, and cadences to define periods and 
 sections, and other characteristic devices of modern art; 
 and though the traces of the old church modes are occa- 
 sionally apparent, they are felt to be getting more and 
 more slight. There is more of art than of human feeling 
 in his work, as is inevitable at such a stage of develop- 
 ment ; but his art as far as it goes is very good, and 
 the style of expression refined and pleasant. 
 
 There is no need to overrate the absolute value of 
 Corelli's works as music to establish their historic im- 
 portance. The fact that they are tlie earliest examples 
 
1 66 MUSIC. 
 
 of pure instrumental music which have maintained any 
 hold upon lovers of the art implies that men's instincts do 
 not justify the methods upon which earlier works were 
 constructed. And they therefore mark the point where 
 imperfect attempts are at last replaced by achievement. 
 
 Corelli's contemporary, Vivaldi , who was a mo re bril- 
 liant executant than C^orell i himself, had even keener 
 sense for harmonic principles ; and though his work has 
 not the substance nor the uniform interest nor the smooth- 
 ness of part-writing, nor, finally, the j^ermanent popularity 
 of Corelli's work, it was extremely valuable at the moment 
 for supplying various t3'pes of instrumental passages and 
 for helping to establish the feeling for harmonic design. 
 In his con certos and sonatas t he harmonic plan is clear 
 even to obviousness, and there is much le ss of conti-a- 
 puntal and free inner development than in C orelli's 
 works ; but they are more characteristically fitted out with 
 the typical figures of harmonic accompaniment, brilliant 
 fioj^iturl, and passages which show a high instinct for 
 instrumental effect. From Corelli and Vivaldi sprang 
 that wonderful school of Italian violinists and composers 
 who did more than any others to give the modern har- 
 monic system of design a solid foundation, and to estab- 
 lish those principles of development which have been 
 refined and elaborated by many generations of instru- 
 mental composers up to the present time. 
 
 Among other lines of progress later events made the 
 development of organ music of peculiar importance. As 
 has before been pointed out, organ music obtained an 
 independent status sooner than any other branch of 
 instrumental music, probably because organists were 
 afforded such frequent opportunities of experiment in 
 solo-playing in the services of the church. Many of the 
 kinds of work in which they experimented led to nothing- 
 particular, but their imitation of choral works led to the 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 167 
 
 development of fugue, which is oue of the most important 
 and elastic of all forms of art. The immediate source of 
 the method of its construction was the manner in which 
 the voices in choral movements entered one after another 
 singing the same initial phrase at the different pitches 
 which best suited their calibre — the tenor taking it a 
 fourth or fifth above the bass, and the alto a fourth or 
 fifth above the tenor, and the treble at the same distance 
 above the alto, or vice vcrsd. In the old choral music 
 the initial phrases were usually rather indefinite, and 
 but rarely reappeared in the course of the movement. 
 But when the same process was adopted for instrumental 
 music without words, composers soon felt the advantage 
 of making the initial phrase characteristically definite, 
 and common sense taught them the advantage of unifying 
 the movement throughout by making the initial phrase, 
 as it were, the text of the whole discourse. Then again 
 common sense equally taught them that mere repetition of 
 the initial phrases in the same order and at the same pitch 
 was wearisome ; and they soon found the further advan- 
 tage of associating the principal phrase or subject with 
 contrasting subordinate phrases, and of makiug the order 
 and pitch of subsequent reiterations of the initial phrase 
 afford contrast by varying from the first order of state- 
 ment. Then as their sense of tonality grew clearer, the 
 practice naturally followed of making the course of the 
 movement modulate into new keys, and of presenting the 
 initial phrases or subjects, and the subordinate figures or 
 counter-subjects, in relation to new tonics. Thus the 
 general aspect of the fugue came to resemble some of the 
 simpler forms of harmonic music, by beginning in one key, 
 passing to extraneous keys by way of contrast, and ending 
 by bringing the course of the progressions round to the 
 original key, and by recapitulating the initial phrases pro- 
 minently to round the whole movement into completeness. 
 
1 68 MUSIC. 
 
 However, the f ngal form had an advantage over pure 
 harmonic forms through its allowing composers to dis- 
 pense with the cadences which defined the various sections, 
 but broke up the continuity of the whole. But it was so 
 inviting to musicians of an ingenious turn of mind that 
 it became vitiated by sheer excess of artifice, in mani- 
 pulating subjects and counter-subjects, and interweaving 
 the strands into all manner of curious combinations ; 
 and the possibilities of pure contrapuntal device were 
 discussed up and down to such an extent that most com- 
 posers who used the form forgot that all this artifice was 
 superfluous except as a means to express something over 
 and beyond their own ingenuity. In the end the elastic 
 capabilities which it jsossessed for variety of expression, 
 and for effective general development based upon the use 
 of well-marked subjects, attracted many of the greatest 
 composers; and not only served for toccatas, movements 
 of sonatas, and even dance suites, but was readapted for 
 choral purposes, and became one of the most effective 
 forms for choruses possible, and far better adapted for 
 genuine choral effect than the so-called sonata forms. 
 It was not indeed till the resources of music were 
 developed all round to the very highest joitch that any 
 better form for choral use was found; and then finally 
 the old pure type of fugue gave way to forms of art 
 which are more elastic still. The early organists, from 
 the two Gabrielis, Sweelinck, and Frescobaldi onwards, 
 served the art nobly in the fugal and kindred forms; 
 devising types of figure and traits of style which were 
 well suited to the instrument, and contriving many 
 schemes of design which were worked out in course of 
 time till they became noble types of complete and 
 expressive art. 
 
 Music for the harpsichord and clavichord rather lagged 
 behind for a time, as, for domestic purposes, neither was 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC. 169 
 
 f^o attractive as tlae violiu ; and in the early part of the 
 century they still had a formidable rival in the lute. 
 Works for these instruments began to be produced very 
 early in the century, but of these all except rare and excep- 
 tional specimens by Orlando Gibbons and Bird are chiefly 
 interesting on account of their containing the crude fore- 
 shadowings of later developments of technique. The first 
 nation to make successful mark in this line were the 
 French, especially the famous Couperin, who had a very 
 lively sense of the style which was best suited to the in- 
 strument, and developed a happy knack of writing tuneful 
 and compact little movements which he grouped, with 
 great feeling for contrast and consistency, into sets called 
 Ordres, which are much the same as the groups more 
 familiarly known as Suites. His prototypes were probably 
 the sets of little movements for lutes, such as those of 
 Denis Gaultier. He was evidently a man of considerable 
 musical gifts of a high order, but he sacrificed more 
 dignified lines of art in concession to the French popular 
 taste for ballet tunes. He was one of the first to write 
 tuneful little movements of the kind which became so 
 popular in later days; and it is noteworthy that he, as 
 well as the earlier lutenists, and his later compatriot, 
 Rameau, foreshadowed the taste of the French for illus- 
 trating definite ideas by music, and for making what may 
 be called picture-tunes, in preference to developing the 
 less obvious implications of pure self-dependent music, 
 in lines of concentrated and comprehensive art. 
 
 The progress of this somewhat immature period shows 
 the inevitable tendency of all things from homogeneity 
 towards diversity and definiteness. In its widest aspects 
 art is seen to branch out into a variety of different 
 forms. The difference in style and matter between 
 choral movements and instrumental works begins to be 
 more definite and decisive. The types of oj^era, oratorio. 
 
I70 MUSIC. 
 
 cantata, and of the various kinds of church music be- 
 come more distinct, and are even subdivided into different 
 subordinate tjqDes, as was the case with Italian and French 
 opera. Instrumental music, from being mainly either 
 imitations of choral music, or vague toccatas and fantasias 
 or short dance tunes, established a complete independent 
 existence, and began to branch out into the various forms 
 which have since become representative as sonatas and 
 symphonies. The treatment of instruments began to be 
 characteristic, and the style of expression and of figure 
 appropriate to different kinds began to be discerned. In 
 the works themselves the articulation of the component 
 parts attains more and more definiteness and clearness 
 of modelling, and methods were found out for making 
 each movement more logical and coherent. Among the 
 most important achievements of the time is the final 
 breaking away from the influences of the old modes, 
 which made the design and texture of the older works so 
 indefinite. The earliest phases of the developing feeliug 
 for tonality of the modern kind, which implies a classifica- 
 tion of harmonies and an adoption of systematic harmonic 
 progressions, already gave the new works an appearance 
 of orderliness and stability which marks the inauguration 
 of a new era in art ; while the use of definite rhythmical 
 grouj)ing enabled musicians to make their ideas infinitely 
 more characteristic and vivid, and caused the periods and 
 sections of the movements to gain a sense of completeness 
 and clearness which was impossible under the old order 
 of things. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 COMBINATION OF OLD METHODS AND NEW 
 PRINCIPLES. 
 
 The developmeBt of principles of design in music must 
 inevitably wait upon the development of technique. Very 
 little can be done with limited means of performance ; and 
 adequacy of such means is dependent on the previous 
 perfecting of various instruments, and on the discovery of 
 the particular types of expression and figure which are 
 adapted to them. One of the reasons why instrumental 
 music lagged behind was that men were slow in finding 
 out the arts of execution ; and even when the stock of 
 figures and phrases which were adapted to various instru- 
 ments had become plentiful, it took composers some time 
 to assimilate them sufficiently, so as to have them always 
 ready at hand to apply to the purposes of art when com- 
 posing. It was this which gave performers so great an 
 advantage in the early days, and accounts for the fact 
 that all the great composers of organ music in early days 
 were famous organists, and all the successful composers of 
 violin music were brilliant public performers. In modern 
 times it is necessarily rather the reverse, and the greatest 
 composers are famous for anything rather than for their 
 powers as executants. 
 
 But though form is so dependent upon technique of 
 every kind, the development of both went on in early 
 days more or less simultaneously. The management and 
 disposition of the materials and subjects used by the com- 
 poser is all part of the business of designing, and while 
 
173 MUSIC. 
 
 the violinists and organists were devising their types of 
 figure they learnt to fit them together in schemes which 
 had the necessary general good effect as well as the 
 special effect in detail ; and all branches of art contri- 
 buted something of their share towards the sum total 
 of advance in art generally. But the various methods and 
 resources of art were develojDed in the different depart- 
 ments in which they were most immediately required. 
 Composers found out what voices could do and what they 
 could not do in writing their church music, oratorios, 
 cantatas, and so forth. They studied the forms of expres- 
 sion and melody best suited for solo voices in operas and 
 cantatas, and they studied the effects and forms of figure 
 which were best adapted to various instruments, and found 
 out by slow degrees the effects which could be produced 
 by various instruments in combination when they were 
 trying to write sonatas, suites, concertos, and overtures. 
 Each genuine comjDoser then as now added his mite 
 to the resources of growing art when he managed to do 
 something new. And in those days when the field had 
 not been so over-cultivated it was easier to turn up new 
 ground, and to add something both effectual and wholesome 
 to the sum of artistic products. 
 
 It must not be overlooked that all branches of art became 
 more and more interdependent as musical development went 
 on. Opera and oratorio required instrumental music as 
 well as solo and choral music, and instrumental music 
 had to borrow types of melody and expression as well as 
 types of design from choral and solo music. Hence it 
 followed that each department of music could only go 
 ahead of others in those respects which were absolutely 
 within its own range ; and there were several occasions 
 in the history of art in which a special branch came to 
 a standstill for a time because the development of other 
 branches upon which it had to draw for further advauce 
 
OLD METHODS AXD NEW PRINCIPLES. 173 
 
 was in a backward state. This was mainly the reason 
 why opera, which was cultivated with such special pro- 
 minence in the seventeenth century, came practically to a 
 standstill for some time at the point illustrated by Scarlatti 
 and Lulli. The actual internal organisation of the com- 
 ponent parts, such as the arias, improved immensely in 
 style and richness and dimensions as men gained better 
 hold of principles of melodic development ; and Handel 
 and Hasse and Buononcini, and many others, improved 
 in that respect on the types of their predecessors. But 
 the general scheme of opera stood much where it was, 
 and the best operas produced in the next fifty years (even 
 those by Handel) are not in the least degree more capable 
 of being endured as wholes by a modern audience than 
 those of Lulli and Scarlatti. 
 
 As has before been pointed out, the early represen- 
 tatives of the new^ style of music had been extremely 
 inefficient in choral writing, because they thought the 
 methods and learning of the old school superfluous for 
 their purposes. But in the course of about fifty years 
 musicians found the need of again studying the fruits of 
 the experience of earlier generations, and something of 
 the old choral style was revived. However, by that time 
 men's minds were thoroughly well set in the direction 
 of modern tonality and harmonic form as distinct from 
 melodic modes and essentially contrapuntal texture, and 
 the result was that the old contrapuntal methods were 
 adapted to new conditions when they came into use again ; 
 and this made them capable of serving for new kinds of 
 expression and effect. The old methods were resumed 
 under the influence of the new feeling for tonality. Com- 
 posers began anew to write free and characteristic parts 
 for the several voices in choral combinations, but they 
 made the harmonies, which were the sum of the com- 
 bined counter^ioints, move so as to illustrate the principles 
 
174 MUSIC. 
 
 of harmonic form, aud thus gave to the hearer the sense 
 of orderliness and design as well as the sense of contra- 
 puntal complexity. And it is not too much to say that 
 their attitude soon changed the principle of their work. 
 Where formerly they had simply adapted melody to 
 melody, they now often thought first of the progression 
 of harmony, and made separate voice-parts run so as to 
 gain points of vantage in the successive chords. In the 
 old state of things counterpoint sometimes appeared, 
 chiefly by accident, in the guise of harmony ; in the new 
 style simple harmonic successions were made deliberately 
 to look like good counterpoint. 
 
 This was partly the result of the peculiar disposition 
 of the Italians. They attained to very considerable skill 
 in manipulating voice-parts smoothly and vocally, but 
 they were not particularly ardent after technical artistic 
 interest or characteristic expression. Their sense of beauty 
 shows itself in the orderliness and ease of their harmonic 
 progressions, and in the excellent art with which general 
 variety is obtained. But as usual a certain native in- 
 dolence and dislike of strenuous concentration made them 
 incline too much towards methods which lessened the 
 demands upon their attention. They preferred that the 
 design of an enormous number of movements should be 
 exactly the same, and commonplace and obvious as well, 
 rather than that they should have any difficulty in follow- 
 ing and understanding what they listened to. The result 
 was favourable to the establishment of formal j^rinciples 
 in choral music, but it put a premium on carelessness in 
 the carrying out of detail and in the choice of musical 
 material ; and the result was that composers got their 
 effects as cheaply as they could, and too often fell into 
 the habit of writing mere successions of chords without 
 either melody or independent part-writing, trusting to 
 the massive sound of many voices in chorus for their 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES. 175 
 
 effect. But, granting these drawbacks, it may well be 
 conceded that the Italians were pioneers in this new style 
 of choral writing, as they were in most other things ; and 
 both in the direction of harmonic form in choral works 
 and in the new style of counterpoint they did invaluable 
 service to art. 
 
 Another new feature of this phase of choral music 
 was its combination with instrumental music. In the old 
 order of things the instruments had sometimes doubled 
 the voices, but very little attempt had been made to use 
 the instrumental forces as separate means of effect. The ' 
 new mode of combining voices and instruments made 
 a very great difference to the freedom with which the : 
 voices could be treated, and to the effect of form and ex- 
 pression which could be obtained. But at the same time 
 it is important to note that the instrumental element was 
 still very much in the background, and did not in any 
 sense divide the honours with the choral effects. The 
 instrumental forces were accessories or vassals, not equals. 
 Even the most responsible masters were forced by the 
 backwardness of instrumental art to adopt a contrapuntal 
 style for their orchestral work, and to write for their 
 several instruments as if they were so many voice-parts ; 
 and when they attempted variety of colour they used it 
 in bi'oad homogeneous expanses, such as long solos for 
 special wind instruments. The sense for variety of colour 
 was undoubtedly dawning, but as yet composers had to 
 produce their impression with very moderate use of it. 
 
 The result was a paradoxical vindication of the inevitable 
 continuity of artistic as of all other kinds of human pro- 
 gress. For although the first beginnings of the new 
 movement were prominently secular, and diverged from 
 the traditions of church music, the first really great 
 and permanent achievements in the new style were on 
 the lines of sacred and serious art, because it was in that 
 
176 MUSIC. 
 
 Hue alone that composers could gaiu full advantage from 
 the old traditions. Aud whereas the early representatives 
 of the new style had cast away the study of choral methods, 
 it was in their choral aspects that these oratorios were 
 specially complete and mature. But it did not fall to the 
 Italians' to bring these new experiments to full fruit. 
 
 It was indeed the first time that the Teutonic temper 
 found full expression in the art which now seems most 
 congenial to the race. Through various causes German 
 progress in music had so far been hindered. While the 
 Netherlands, England, Italy, and even France, had each 
 had important groups of composers, Germany had as yet 
 had but few and more or less isolated men. But now that 
 social conditions had quieted down, and the spirit of the 
 nation had better opportunity to expand, her composers 
 rose with extraordinary rapidity to the foremost place, and 
 in their hands comparatively neglected forms of art, such 
 as the oratorio and church cantata, reached the highest 
 standard of which they have proved capable. All the Ger- 
 man composers undoubtedly learned much of their business 
 from Italian examples ; and it is noteworthy that on this 
 occasion, as on many others, the composers who were the 
 most popularly successful adopted altogether Italian prin- 
 ciples, merely infusing into their work the firmer grit 
 and greater power of characterisation which comes of the 
 stronger and more deliberate race. But by far the greatest 
 and most imjDortant results were obtained where the Teu- 
 tonic impulse for characteristic treatment was given fullest 
 play ; and where the resources made available by the com- 
 bination of old contrapuntal principles and the principles 
 of the new kind of art were applied to the end of lofty 
 and noble expression. 
 
 The difference of result following upon the difference 
 of method is illustrated to the fullest degree in the 
 familiar oratorios of Handel on the one hand, and in 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEIV PRINCIPLES. 177 
 
 Bach's Passions and the best of his church cantatas on 
 the other. The Italian development of oratorio had been 
 stunted and perverted, but there were sufficient types 
 and models for Handel to follow. It is a noteworthy in - 
 stance of the influence of circumstances that for his first 
 oratorios^jw hich were written in Italy for Italian audi ences, 
 he hardly wrote any choruses at all, and only such as are o f 
 theslightest description. But when, some years later, after 
 plentiful experience of English tastes, he began writing for 
 London audiences, he at once adopted the familiar scheme, 
 in which the most prominent and the most artistically 
 important features are the numerous grand choral move- 
 ments. But it so happened that the English of that time 
 had lost touch with their own native traditions, and had 
 become thoroughly Italianised ; it therefore naturally fol- 
 lowed that Handel adopted an Italian manner in his choral 
 writing, as he had done previously in his operatic works. 
 This was entirely consistent with all the previous part of his 
 career, for ever since he had left Hamburg and his native 
 country in his youth, every new line he took up showed in- 
 variably the influence of Italian methods and Italian musical 
 phraseology. Hg was so saturat ed with musical Italianism 
 o f all kinds that actual phrases of Corelli, Alessand ro Scar- 
 latti, S tradella, Carissimi, and others constantly make th(^ ir 
 appea rance in his works ; while his instrumental movemen ts 
 — such as slo w introductions and fugues — are in textu re 
 most like similar movements by Corelli and Scarlatti, and 
 hi s choral style was modelled upon the facile, smooth, a nd 
 eminently vocal style of the Italian masters, as exemplified 
 in various kinds of church music of the new Ivind. Wliere 
 he improved upon them so immensely was in the use of the 
 reso urces of artistic technique for the purposes of expr es- 
 si on. A s has been frequently pointed out, the Italians 
 cared very little for expression in the music itself, 
 though they liked to have it put in by the performers. 
 
iy8 MUSIC. 
 
 Intrinsically it was siifBcient for them if tlie music was 
 melodious and vocal in solos, and if the counterpoint in 
 the choruses had a pleasant sense of orderly form in the 
 progressions of the harmonies. Now both English and 
 Teutons have always had a great feeling for direct ex- 
 pression in the music itself ; and when in immature times 
 they could not get it in any other way, their composers 
 tried to get it by obvious realistic means. Italians had tried 
 realistic expression now and again, but always in a half- 
 hearted and ineffectual manner; and they always ended 
 by dropping it. But to genuine Teutons and English such 
 intrinsic expression is a necessity, and it is the force of 
 their instinct for it which has enabled the former to 
 carry to their highest perfection all the forms of the 
 art which the Italians initiated, but had not sufficiently 
 high artistic ideals or sufficient persistence of character to 
 bring to maturity. 
 
 This is what makes so great a difference between 
 Handel's choral work and Italian choral work ; and the 
 same is the case with his arias and other solo music. 
 The fact is so familiar that it hardly needs emphasising. 
 H e not only giv6s in his choruses the direct expression 
 of the fppHng s of human creatures, whose places th e 
 sinp^ might be said to take, in exultation, mourning, 
 
 ra^ye^^_d eVOtion..j Dr ^^^y '-■tiiAT- pliacpg nf Immnn fppling- 
 
 but he makes most succe ssful use of them for de- 
 scriptiv e purposes, and for conveying the impression o f 
 trem endous situations and events. This may have bee n 
 s omewhat owing to his English surroundings, as the Ge r- 
 man b ent is to use music more for the expression of th e 
 inward emotion and sentiment than for direct concrete 
 illustration. But this was a part of the development 
 of the artistic material of music which had to be 
 achieved, and as it might not have been done so 
 thoroughly under the influence of any other nation, it 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES. 179 
 
 is fortunate that Handel did his part of the work under 
 English influences, for the thoroughly Teutonic part of the 
 work was assuredly as perfectly done as is conceivable by 
 J. S. Bach. 
 
 Bach also was a close student of Italian art, as he 
 was of the methods of all skilful composers of whatever 
 nation ; but nevertheless his circumstances and constant 
 Teutonic surroundings made him take, in his most 
 genuinely characteristic works, a thorouglily Teutonic 
 line. The circumstances of his career were peculiar, 
 as his life was divided definitely into periods in 
 which he specially studied different departments of art. 
 In his earliest days, at the period in man's life when 
 impressions most easily become permanent, he was most 
 particularly occupied with organ music, with organ 
 style, the technique and methods of all the greatest 
 organists that he could hear, and the compositions for the 
 organ which he had opportunity to study. Fortunately 
 the organists of that day were exceptionally worthy of 
 their instrument. They did not try to make it gambol 
 or mince trivial sentimentalities, but to utter things that 
 had dignity and noble simplicity ; and to produce those 
 majestic effects of rolling sound which were peculiarly 
 suitable to the great vaulted buildings which were the 
 natural homes of their art. Bach's musical organisation 
 became well steeped in organ effects, and the phraseology 
 which was most appropriate to the instrument became 
 the natural language for the expression of his musical 
 ideas, and remained so for the rest of his life, though tem- 
 pered and enlarged by the wide range of his sympathetic 
 studies in every branch of composition. Together with 
 organ music he heard and absorbed the church music 
 of his country ; and the peculiar mystic sentiment, full of 
 tender poetical imagery and personal devotion, which was 
 then characteristic of Teutonic Christianity, took firm 
 
X 
 
 i8o MUSIC. 
 
 hold of his disposition. Unlike Handel, he remained 
 all his life in one small part of Germany, always amid 
 thoroughly Teutonic influences ; and the result was 
 that when in the latter part of his life he addressed 
 himself most particularly to the composition of great 
 choral works, the Italian influences are but rarely ap- 
 parent ; and all the details, the manner, the methods, 
 and the type of expression are essentially Teutonic. 
 Great as was his contrapuntal skill, it was in no sense 
 the contrapuntalism of the Italians; for it may be con- 
 fessed that his voice-parts are by no means smooth, 
 facile, or even vocal. The origin of the style of his 
 vocal part-writing was the kind of counterjDoint that he 
 had learnt from studying and hearing organ works when 
 young. He had a marvellous instinct for choral effect 
 of many kinds, in no way inferior to Handel's though so 
 extraordinarily different. B ut where Handel aimed _at 
 the jpeauty of melodic form, Earh strove for characte ristic 
 e xpression. Where Handel used orderly progressions of 
 s imple harmony, Bach aimed at contriving elaborate inte r- 
 we avings of subtly disposed parts to give the effect of th e 
 s ubtlest shades of human feeling. Where Handel used t he 
 most real istic means to convey t he hopping of frogs, or the 
 r attling of hailstones, or th e rolling of the sea, or the buz- 
 zing of flies. Bach attempted to express the inner feelings 
 of human creatur es under the impress _of_ any exci ting 
 causes. It must not be supposed that either composer was 
 restricted to these particular lines, for Handel at times 
 succeeded better than most composers in uttering the 
 inner spirft of man's emotions, and Bach at times adopted 
 realistic methods ; but the larger portion of Handel's choral 
 work tends in the one direction, and of Bach's in the other. 
 Nowhere is the difference of their attitude better illus- 
 trated than in their use of recitative. Handel, accepting 
 the conventions of Italian art without hesitation, ruined 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES. i8[ 
 
 an enormous number of liis works by the emptiest, 
 baldest, and most mechanical formulas ; while Bach, dis- 
 satisfied with anything which had not significance, en- 
 deavoured by the contours and intervals of his voice-part, 
 by the progressions and harmonies of his accompaniment, 
 and by every means that was available, to intensify from 
 moment to moment the expression of the words. Bach's 
 recitative was consequently extremely difficult to sing, 
 but the intrinsic expression of the music is as strong 
 as it can be made in such a form. Handel's may be 
 easy to sing, but it means nothing, and the formulas 
 often suit one set of words as well as another. 
 
 Bach's feeling fw melody was not so happy as Handel's. 
 His Teutonic attitude is shown again in the fact that he 
 sought for richer, deeper,^ and more copious expression 
 than can be achieved by conventional treatment of 
 melody with simpLe^, secondary accompaniment. Solo 
 music indeed was not the most congenial form for the ex- 
 pression of his ideas, and faithfully as he tried to achieve 
 a perfect scheme and principle of procedure, he never made 
 sure of a sati sfactory res ult;__He aimed at something which 
 is a little beyond the_capacity of a formal solo move- 
 ment to express, and the soloist is often sacrificed to the 
 exigencies of artistic development. He could not rest 
 satisfied with the apparent superficiality of Italian treat- 
 ment of melody, and but rarely even attempted to produce 
 a suave or ear-catching tune. When the mood he wished 
 to illustrate lent itself to melodic expression, he pro- 
 duced exquisitely touching or innocently joyous fragments 
 of tune, which lay hold of the mind all the more firmly 
 because of their characteristic sincerity and the absence 
 of any pretence of making the thing suave and agreeable 
 at the expense of the truth of the sentiment. The only 
 res pect in which he falls under the spell of conventio n 
 was in following without sufficient consideration the 
 
J 82 MUSIC. 
 
 pri-nr-ipip nf rp pptitlon fa mi linT tlirono-h the, rlirpctimi "fl a 
 capo." It is as though, when he had carried out his 
 artistic scheme with all the technical richness and care 
 in detail he could master up to a certain point, he felt he 
 had done what art required of him, and wrote " da capo al 
 ■fine," without consideration of the length to which it 
 would carry his movement ; and thereby impaired some of 
 his happiest inspirations by want of the practical obser- 
 vation that even a good audience is human. And it may 
 be confessed that though his artistic insight, power of self- 
 criticism, and variety of inventiveness were almost the 
 highest ever possessed by man, his fervently idealistic 
 nature was just a little deficient in practical common 
 sense. He worked so much by himself, and had so little 
 opportunity of testing his greatest works by the light 
 of experience in performance, that he sometimes over- 
 looked their relation to other human beings, and wrote for 
 the sheer pleasure of mastering a problem or developing 
 to its full circuit a scheme which he had in his mind. 
 
 In instrumentation both of these giants among com- 
 posers were equally backward, though their aims, methods, 
 and results were very different. They were necessarily re- 
 stricted to the standard of their time at starting, and 
 Handel did as little as it is possible for a great master 
 to do in adding to the resources of the instrumental side of 
 music. He tried interesting ex^jeriments, occasionally, even 
 in his earliest works, but his mind was not set on making 
 much use of new resources or on using colour as an en- 
 hancement of expression. His mastery of choral effect 
 and gift of melody, and power of portrayal by vocal means, 
 were sufficient for his purposes, and the instruments served 
 chiefly to strengthen and support the voices, and to play 
 introductory passages to the arias and choruses, and simple 
 marches and dance tunes, which were written mainly for 
 strino-ed instruments in the contrapuntal manner. He 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES. 183 
 
 looked to tlie present, and finished up miicli as lie 
 began. Bach, on the other hand, looking always for- 
 ward, showed much more pui'pose in his use of instru- 
 mental resources. He used a gTeat variety of instruments 
 of all kinds, both wind and strings, not to increase the 
 volume of tone in the mass, but to give special quality 
 and unity of colour to various movements. The days 
 when composite colouring and constantly altering shades 
 of various qualities of tone are an ordinary feature of 
 the art were yet very far off; and he never seems to 
 have thought of adopting anything like such modern 
 methods. But as far as his unique principles go, they 
 are at times singularly effective. He realised the various 
 expressive qualities of the tone and style of hautboys, 
 flutes, solo violins, horns, trumpets, viole da gamba, and 
 many others ; and with the view of intensifying the pathos, 
 or the poignancy, or the joyousness, or the sublimity of his 
 words, he found suitable figures for them, and wove 
 them with the happiest effect throughout the whole ac- 
 companiment of a movement. The device was not new, 
 for it was the first method that composers adopted in 
 trying to make use of variety of orchestral colour; but 
 Bach's use of it for the purposes of expression was new, 
 and was an important step in the direction of effectual 
 use of instrumental resources. To the object of obtain- 
 ing great sonority from his instrumental forces Bach 
 does not seem to have given much of his mind. Both 
 he and Handel relied so much upon the organ to fill in 
 accompaniments and supply fulness of sound, that it does 
 not seem to have struck either of them as worth while 
 to look for any degree of richness or volume from combina- 
 tions of orchestral instruments. In loud passages neither 
 of them attempt to dispose the various instruments in such 
 a way as to get the best tone out of them ; and when played 
 in modern times, under modern conditions, the wood wind 
 
1 84 MUSIC. 
 
 instruments are often totally drowned by the strings. 
 The proportions were very different in those times, but 
 even if the old proportions of wind and strings were 
 restored, many contrapuntal effects in which flutes or 
 hautboys have to take essential parts would be quite 
 ineffective. 
 
 Their scheme of oratorio and church music being what 
 it was, the backwardness of instrumental effect was but of 
 small consequence. The means they used for their effects 
 were essentially choral forces and solo voices, and these were 
 amply sufficient for the purposes in hand. Instrumental 
 music and the arts of instrumentation have been developed 
 almost entirely under secular conditions. In such works 
 as Handel's and Bach's, which illustrated mainly religious 
 aspects of human feeling and character, the absence of 
 subtle sensuous excitements of colour was possibly rather 
 an advantage than otherwise. Whatever lack of maturity 
 is observable in both is felt not so much in the lack of 
 instrumental effect as in the crude recitative of Handel, 
 and in the overdoing of contrapuntal comjDlexity in places 
 where it is not essential in Bach. Their works are mature 
 without instrumentation, and even the exquisite skill of 
 Mozart's additional accompaniments to Handel's work 
 cannot disguise the fact that the phraseology of modern 
 instrumentation is out of touch with the style of the 
 older masterpieces. 
 
 In considering the aspects of their great sacred choral 
 works it is of importance to note the circumstances which 
 called them into existence. Both composers came to the 
 writing of such works quite at the end of their careers, 
 when their mastery of their art was most complete ; and 
 they brought the fruits of their experience in all branches 
 of art to bear upon them. Moreover, the circumstances 
 of their respective careers had great influence upon the 
 quality of the products. Handel had all through been a 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES. 185 
 
 practical public man, constantly in toucli with the public, 
 and constantly watching their likes and dislikes, and 
 catering for his supporters in accordance with them. He 
 began as a subordinate violin-player in Reiser's Hamburg 
 Opera-House, where his abilities soon caused him to be 
 promoted to the position of accompanyist on the harpsi- 
 chord ; which was excellent training for an opera composer, 
 and taught him the ins and outs of that branch of public 
 entertainment. This short preliminary was soon suc- 
 ceeded by brilliant successes as a composer in Italy, and 
 these in turn led to his long and brilliant career as an opera 
 composer in England, which lasted some twenty-six years. 
 Then, finally, the accident of having an opera-house on his 
 hands in Lent on days when opera performances were 
 not allowed led to his trying the experiment of setting 
 sacred dramas for performance on the stage of his theatre. 
 These differed from the operas in their more serious 
 and solid character, the absence of action, and the intro- 
 duction of grand choral movements. But he began this 
 experiment purely as a business manager, and did not 
 attempt to write complete new works, but merely patched 
 together choruses and other numbers out of earlier works, 
 giving them new words and adding some new movements to 
 make the whole pass muster, and calling the patchwork by 
 a scriptural name. The success of the experiment encou- 
 raged him to proceed to compose or patch together more 
 works of the same kind. It is a strange fact that the 
 / grandest and most impressive of all his works is actually 
 a piece of patchwork ; for Israel in Egypt contains a 
 most surjDrising number of old movements which may 
 have been early compositions of his own, and also a very 
 large cpiantity of musical material which was unques- 
 tionably by other composers. He transformed some of 
 the borrowed materials into extremely effective choruses, 
 and wrote other new choruses which are among his finest 
 
1 86 MUSIC. 
 
 acliievements ; and the greatness of his own , work has 
 carried the second-rate work along with it. But his pro- 
 cedure shows that he did not treat the form of oratorio at 
 first as a responsible conscientious composer might be 
 expected to do, but as a man who had to supply the public 
 with a fine entertainment. It cannot indeed be doubted 
 that though he was capable of rising to very great achieve- 
 ments, and was capable of noble and sincere expression, 
 he thought a great deal of the tastes of a big public, and 
 not very intently of refinements of art, or originality of 
 matter or of plan. His disposition was not so much to 
 work up to any exalted ideals of his own, as to feel sympa- 
 thetically what was the highest standard of taste of the 
 public for which he was constantly working, and to supply 
 what that demanded. This must not be taken to mean that 
 he habitually wrote down to a low standard of public taste. 
 Composers who persuade themselves to do that generally 
 take a very low view of their public, and write even worse 
 than they need, Handel had on the whole very good 
 reason to think well of his public, notwithstanding their 
 unwillingness to listen to Israel in Egj^pt without some 
 sugar-plums in the shape of opera airs to relieve its 
 austere grandeur. They thoroughly appreciated others 
 of his works, and the reception accorded to the Messiah 
 was sufficient to encourage him to put all his heart into 
 his later works of the oratorio order. Thinking so much 
 of the big public may therefore have been no great 
 drawback to him; and some of the thanks are due to 
 the good taste and sense of the people for whom he 
 catered. His position made him practical, and heljDed 
 him to that definite and wholesomely direct style which 
 was congenial to his English audiences ; and though they 
 may be answerable for a certain amount of common- 
 place and complacency in his work, they deserve credit 
 for encouraging him in the line of choral work, which 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES. 1S7 
 
 resulted in the achievement of those effects of genuine 
 grandeur, simple dignity, and cosmic power which mark 
 his culmination as one of the great eras of art. 
 
 The circumstances which led to Bach's great choral works 
 were absolutely different, and account for a great deal of 
 the marked difference in the product. The contrast in the 
 circumstances of the two composers is noticeable from their 
 earliest years. When Handel was absorbing the influences 
 of an opera-house, Bach was listening to the great organists 
 of his time. When Handel was practising Italianisms in 
 every branch of art. Bach was studying mainly the ways 
 and tastes of his own people. But the relation of a com- 
 poser to his public is of supreme importance in respect of 
 the line he takes, and in that respect Bach's position was 
 most peculiar. By comparison with the public nature of 
 Handel's career Bach's life seems like that of a reflective 
 recluse. So far from catering for a public, all through 
 his life he rather lacked audiences and opportunities to 
 feel the public pulse. He could hardly in any case have 
 brought himself to see his art through other people's eyes ; 
 for it was his nature to judge solely for himself, and he 
 laboured throughout his life with simplicity and single- 
 ness of heart to come up to his own highest ideals in all 
 branches of art, and to satisfy his own critical judgment 
 without a thought of the effect his work would have upon 
 any but an ideal auditor. His principle of study is most 
 happily illustrative of the manner in which all musical 
 progress is made. For he early adopted the practice of 
 studying and copying out the works of composers who 
 excelled in all the different branches of art, and endea- 
 vouring to improve upon their achievements. Sometimes 
 he actually rewrote the works of other composers, and 
 oftentimes he deliberately imitated them both for style and 
 design ; and wherever he recognised an artistic principle 
 of undoubted value and vitality, he as it were absorbed 
 
1 88 MUSIC. 
 
 and amalgamated it as part of his own artistic procedure. 
 He ranged far and wide, and studied the methods of 
 Italians, Frenchmen, Netherlanders, and Germans — writers 
 of choral music and of organ music, of violin music and 
 of harpsichord music. And not only that, but he always 
 sedulously criticised himself, and recast, remodelled, and re- 
 wrote everything which new experiences or a happier mood 
 made him feel capable of improving. This would have 
 been impossible in the busy public life of Handel, and 
 was not in that composer's line. Bach's was a far more 
 individual and personal position. He wanted to express 
 what he himself personally felt and approved. Handel 
 adapted himself to feel and approve what the public 
 approved. 
 
 It naturally followed that Bach's style is far more 
 individual and strongly marked, and, as a consequence, 
 that he went far beyond the standard of the musical 
 intelligence of his time; and his most ideally great 
 and genuine passages of human expression were merely 
 regarded by his contemporaries as ingenious feats of 
 pedantic ingenuity. A man could not well be more 
 utterly alone or without sympathy than he was. Even 
 his sons and pupils but half understood him. But we 
 do not know that he suffered from it. We can only 
 see plainly that it drove him inwards upon himself, and 
 made him adopt that attitude which alone is capable 
 of producing the very highest results in men who have 
 grit enough to save them from extravagance and in- 
 coherence. He wrote because it interested him to write, 
 and with the natural impulse of the perfectly sincere 
 composer to bring out what was in him in the best form 
 that he could give to it; and his musical constitution 
 being the purest and noblest and most full of human 
 feeling and emotion ever possessed by a composer, the 
 art of music is more indebted to him than to any other 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES. 189 
 
 composer who ever lived, especially for the extension of 
 the arts of expression. 
 
 The peculiar services he did in the branch of pure 
 instrumental art must be discussed elsewhere. The 
 services he did to choral art, especially in his Passions, 
 the B minor mass and smaller masses, the great un- 
 accompanied motets and the various cantatas, are equal 
 to Handel's, though on such different lines. The effect 
 of the isolation in which his work was produced was 
 no doubt to make it in some respects experimental, 
 but it ensured the highest development of the art of ex- 
 pression and of the technique which serves to the ends of 
 expression. To the same end also served the Teutonic 
 aspect of his labours. The oratorios of other nations were 
 not part of religious exercises nor the direct expression 
 of devotional feeling. They had merely been versions of 
 lives of famous scrij^tural heroes or events set to music 
 partly in narrative and partly in dramatic form. But the 
 Germans had fastened with peculiar intensity of feeling on 
 the story of the Passion, and set it again and again in a 
 musical form as though determined to give it the utmost 
 significance. The plan was to break up the story into its 
 most vivid situations and intersperse these with reflective 
 choruses and solos which helped the mind to dwell in- 
 tently and lovingly upon each step in the tragedy. It 
 was essentially a devotional function in which every one 
 present took a personal share. Even the audience, apart 
 from the performers, took part in the noble chorales — so 
 characteristic of Teutonic nature — which were inter- 
 spersed throughout. Many poets and many composers 
 tried their hands at this curious form of art, Bach 
 himself several times. And the crown was jjut on the 
 form of art finally by the famous Passion according to 
 St. Matthew which Bach wrote and rewrote towards the 
 end of his career, for performance at Leipzig. 
 
I90 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 It is not necessary to empliasise further the difference 
 between Bach's treatment of a great choral form of art 
 and Handel's. The oratorios of the latter were nearly 
 all dramatic or epic, and the subjects were treated as 
 nearly as possible histrionically. There are portions of 
 Bach's Passions which treat the situations with great 
 dramatic force, but in the main they are the direct 
 outcome of personal devotion, and in them the mystic 
 emotionalism of the Teutonic nature found its purest 
 expression. Thus in the works of the two great com- 
 posers the types of musical utterance which represent epic 
 and narrative treatment on the one hand, and inward 
 immediate feeling on the other, were completely realised 
 on the largest scale that the art of that day allowed. 
 Handel's direct and practical way of enforcing the events 
 and making his story vivid by great musical means has 
 given great pleasure to an immense public, and as it were 
 summed up the labours of his predecessors into a grand 
 and impressive result. Bach, with higher ideals, produced 
 work which was often experimental, and even at times 
 unpractical; but he used the sum of his predecessors' 
 work as his stepping-stone, and did much greater service 
 to his art. He appeals to a much smaller public than 
 Handel, and is totally unacceptable to shallow, worldly or 
 unpoetical temperaments ; but he has given much higher 
 pleasure to those whose mental and emotional organisa- 
 tion is sufficiently high to be in touch with him, and there 
 are but few of the greatest composers of later times who 
 have not felt him to be their most inspiring example. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 
 
 Although the principles of design upon whicli modern 
 self-dependent instrumental music are based had hardh' 
 dawned upon the minds of men till the eighteenth cen- 
 tury was nearly half spent, the instrumental music of 
 the earlier period, written almost entirely upon the same 
 general principles as choral music, is not only historically 
 important, but of more genuine vitality than a very large 
 proportion of the music which has been written since 
 the cultivation of pure harmonic music has enlarged the 
 resources of composers. The situation is parallel in many 
 respects to the earlier crisis of Palestrina and Mareuzio. 
 There is less of the sense of immaturity in their work 
 than in the work of Lulli and Scarlatti of nearly a cen- 
 tury later; and there is far less of immaturity in the 
 instrumental works of Bach and Handel and their fellows 
 than in the works of Galuppi or Paradisi, or even in the 
 early works of Haydn. Maturity is a relative term alto- 
 gether. If a man's ideas are worth expressing, and are 
 capable of being expressed completely within the limits 
 of his resources, his productions may be completely 
 mature at almost any epoch in the progress of artistic 
 development. If Palestrina had introduced discords more 
 freely and treated them with less reserve, and had aimed 
 generally at a stronger type of expression, the balance of 
 his work would have been destroyed ; he would have gone 
 beyond the limits which were then inevitable for com- 
 pletely artistic work. Part of his greatness consisted in 
 
192 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 feeling exactly where the limitations were, and achieving 
 his aims within the jfield of which he was complete master. 
 The position of the composers in Bach's time was much 
 the same ; and part of his own particular greatness con- 
 sisted in seeing within what particular range the technical 
 resources of art, which preceding development had placed 
 in his hands, were most fully available. 
 
 It is very necessary to keep in mind the fact that dif- 
 ferent types of artistic procedure representing different 
 epochs frequently overlap. Just as in the arrange- 
 ments of society a monarchy may be thriving suc- 
 cessfully in one country, while its neighbour is trying 
 experiments in democratic institutions. So in art it con- 
 stantly happens that a new style has broken into vigorous 
 activity before the old style has produced its greatest 
 results. And there is a further parallel in the fact that 
 as the theories and practices of the republican country 
 may filter into the country where the more antiquated 
 form of government still prevails; so the new ideas 
 which are beginning to be realised in other departments 
 of artistic energy often creep into the heart of an old 
 but still active system, even before it has come to full 
 maturity. Even the strictest representatives of an ancient 
 and well-developed style try occasional experiments on 
 revolutionary lines. The bounds of the old order were 
 transgressed before Palestrina's time, and many men 
 began to have clear ideas of harmonic form of the sonata 
 order long before John Sebastian Bach put the crown on 
 the old style of instrumental music. Bach himself tried 
 expeiiments in this line, and did his utmost to master and 
 gauge the value of the new style, by copying, rearranging, 
 rewriting, and imitating the works of prominent repre- 
 sentatives of the new school. But it is clear that he was 
 not satisfied with the results, and that the style was not 
 congenial to him. His peculiar gifts would not have 
 
CLIMAX OF EARLY h\STRUMENTAL MUSIC. 193 
 
 found siifficit'iit meaus for employment on the simple 
 lines of liarnionic form as then understood, and the 
 necessity of submitting to uniform distribution of the 
 various parts of his design would have hampered him in 
 the experiments in modulation and harmonisation which 
 are among his greatest glories. 
 
 So it came about finally that he attempted but little 
 of a sonata order, but concentrated his powers on works 
 of the old style— the toccatas, canzonas, fantasias, fugues, 
 suites, partitas, and other varieties ; and his work in those 
 lines sums up the fruitful labours of all his predecessors, 
 and provides the most perfect examples of all the older 
 forms. The essence of the being of the old instrumental 
 forms was the polyphonic texture in which every part or 
 voice is on equal terms with every other one. There is 
 no despotic tune with subservient accompaniment, nor 
 strict conventions as to the distribution of chords accord- 
 ing to their tonalities. The use of chords as chords had 
 undoubtedly become quite familiar, but it was not on any 
 principle of their systematic distribution that works were 
 designed. They were of secondary importance to poly- 
 phonic elaboration of musical figures ; by the interweav- 
 ing of which, like the strands of a rope, the works were 
 made coherent and interesting. 
 
 Of all the forms of instrumental music which were 
 characteristic of this phase of art, the fugue is the most 
 familiar and the most perfectly organised. It was the 
 form in which Bach most delighted, and the one which 
 gave him fullest variety of scope and opportunity for 
 expression. Its beginnings have already been sketched. 
 The earliest forms were clearly imitations of choral music 
 adapted for the organ or for sets of viols. The type of 
 choral work which was imitated was extremely indefinite 
 as far as the musical ideas were concerned, and the musical 
 "subjects" were not necessarily reiterated in the course of 
 
 N 
 
194 MUSIC. 
 
 the movements. But wlieu the form came to be used 
 independently o£ words, the barrenness of mere meander- 
 ing counterpoint soon became apparent, and characteristic 
 musical figures became more definitely noticeable, and 
 were frequently reiterated in the course of the work to 
 give unity to the whole. The early composers who 
 speculated in these lines called their works by all sorts 
 of names — canzonas, ricercari, fantasias, and so forth ; 
 and they were very unsystematic in their ways of in- 
 troducing their "subjects." But experience led them 
 by degrees to regulate things with more attention to 
 symmetry and better distribution of their materials. By 
 degrees the aspect of the form became sufficiently dis- 
 tinctive for theorists to take note of it, and the sim- 
 plicity of the conditions of procedure led them to imagine 
 that an artistic scheme might be very successfully de- 
 vised by mere speculation, without regard to the existing 
 facts of art; and they contrived such a multiplicity of 
 directions to show composers how to expend their super- 
 fluous inartistic ingenuity according to the letter of their 
 law, that men in general came to think that the fugue 
 form was invented for nothing else but to enable pedants 
 to show how clever they are. As a matter of fact, the 
 rules were devised without consideration of the necessities 
 of the case, and it naturally follows that hardly any of 
 the finest fugues in the whole range of the musical art 
 are strictly in accordance with the directions of the 
 teachers on the subject; and if it had not been for 
 Bach and Handel this most elastic and invaluable form 
 would have become a mere dead formality. 
 
 The essence of the form in its mature state is simply 
 that the successive parts shall enter like several voices, 
 one after another, with a " subject " — which is a musical 
 phrase of sufiiciently definite melody and rhythm to stand 
 oat from its context and be identifiable — and that this 
 
CLIMAX OF EARLY L\STRUMEXTAL MUSIC. 195 
 
 subject shall give the cue to the mood of the movement at, 
 the outset and reappear frequently throughout. Artistic 
 interest and variety of effect are maintained by the way 
 the voices or parts sometimes sound all at once, and some- 
 times are reduced to a minimum of one or two. Climaxes 
 are obtained by making' them busier and busier with 
 the subject; making it appear at one time in one part, 
 and at another time in another, the voices or parts catch- 
 ing one another up like people who are so eager in the 
 discussion of their subject that they do not wait for 
 each other to finish their sentences. Subordinate sub- 
 jects are made to circle round the principal one, and 
 the various ideas are made to appear in different re- 
 lations to one another, sometimes high and sometimes 
 low, sometimes quick and at other times slow, but 
 always maintaining a relevancy in mood and style. And 
 the course of the movement simultaneously makes a com- 
 plete circuit by passing to subordinate keys, which allow 
 of constant change in the presentation of the subject, 
 and ultimately comes round to the first key again and 
 closes firmly therein. All sorts of devices had been found 
 out for giving additional effect and interest to the scheme, 
 and in Bach's time fugue became the highest representa- 
 tive form of the period of art. 
 
 It had been first used for the organ — the association of 
 the instrument with choral music in church services en- 
 sured that — and many of Bach's predecessors obtained 
 more effective results in this form than any other that they 
 attempted. Many attempts had been made before Bach's 
 time to adapt it also for harpsichord and for stringed 
 instruments, so that Bach had plenty of models to improve 
 upon, according to his wont, in each department of art. 
 
 It ought not to be overlooked, moreover, that his pre- 
 decessors in the line of organ music were an exceptionally 
 high-spirited group of composers. It is difficult to Had 
 
196 MUSIC. 
 
 a finer or more true-liearted set of men in the whole 
 range of the art than snch as Frescobaldi, Froberger, 
 Swelinck, Kerl, Reiuken, Buxtehude, Pachelbel, Kuhnau, 
 John Michael Bach, and many others of the same calling 
 and similar musical powers. Each one of them had 
 contributed a considerable number of items of their 
 own both to the materials of art and to the solution of 
 the problems of their manipulation. Bach's own work 
 has thrown theirs into the shade, but the world which 
 has forgotten them is under great obligations to them all. 
 For though their work never reaches the pitch of equal 
 mastery which satisfies the fastidious judgment of those 
 who have enjoyed maturer things, it is only through their 
 devoted pioneering that the musical revelation of the per- 
 sonality of Bach in instrumental music became possible. 
 
 In the passionate eagerness to express his thoughts 
 as well as was conceivably possible, Bach studied the 
 works of every man who had distinguished himself in any 
 branch of art. And with the true instinct which is so 
 like concentrated common sense, he took each department 
 of art in turn, and always at times when he had oppor- 
 tunities to test his own experiments in similar lines. At 
 one time he devoted himself to organ music, at another to 
 secular instrumental music, at another to choral music. 
 As has been pointed out elsewhere the organ jjeriod came 
 first, and coloured his style for the rest of his life. 
 
 The organ is obviously not an instrument which is 
 capable of much expression in detail, but it is undoubtedly 
 capable of exercising great emotional effect upon human 
 beings, partly through its long association with feelings 
 which are most deeply rooted in human nature, and partly 
 through the magnificent volume of continuous sound that 
 it is capable of producing. The latter quality supplies in 
 a great measure the guiding principle for its successful 
 treatment by a composer ; and the effect of the most 
 
CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 197 
 
 successful works written for it, depends in oreat measure 
 on the manner in wliich the crises of voluminous sound 
 are managed. The fugue form happens to be the most 
 perfect contrivance for the attainment of these ends. 
 For it completely isolates the text of the discourse, which 
 is the principal subject; and the successive entries of 
 the parts necessarily make a gradual increase of general 
 sonority. Looking at fugue from the sensational side, 
 the human creature is made to go through successive 
 states of tension and relaxation ; and the perfection of a 
 great master's management lies in his power to adjust 
 the distribution of his successive climaxes of sonority 
 and complexity proportionately to the receptive capaci- 
 ties of human creatures, beginning from different points, 
 and rising successively to different degrees of richness 
 and fulness. The difficulty of the operation lies in the 
 necessity for building up the successive effects of massive 
 complexity out of the musical ideas. A great master 
 like Bach is instinctively aware that appeals to sensation 
 must be accompanied by proportionate appeals to higher 
 faculties. It is only in the crudest phases of modern 
 theatrical music that mere appeals to sensation are digni- 
 fied by the name of art. In modern opera climaxes of 
 sound are often piled up one after another without doing 
 anything but excite the animal side of man's nature. 
 The glory of Bach's management of such things is that 
 the intrinsic interest of the music itself is always in 
 proportion to the power and volume of the actual sound. 
 Indeed the volume of the sound is sometimes made to 
 seem tenfold greater than the mere notes sounding would 
 warrant, by reason of the extraordinary complexity and 
 vitality of the details out of which it is compounded. 
 Moreover, Bach has such a hold upon the resources of 
 his art, that wlien he has to reduce the number of notes 
 sounding to a minimum, the relation of the passage to 
 
igs MUSIC. 
 
 its context prevents the interest from flagging. It was 
 in such circumstances that his predecessors often failed. 
 They could often write several pages of fine, rich, and 
 noble music, but never held the balance so perfectly but 
 that at some time or other the movement seems to fall 
 to pieces. Bach at his best manipulates all his resources 
 so well that even his quietest moments have some prin- 
 ciple of interest which keeps the mind engaged, and his 
 final climax of sound and complicated jDolyphony comes 
 like the utmost possible exultation, taking complete pos- 
 session of the beings who hear with the understanding 
 as well as the senses, and raising them out of themselves 
 into a genuine rapture. 
 
 Of course Bach did not restrict himself to such types of 
 procedure. There are plenty of works which are mainly 
 intellectual from end to end, relying on the beauty of 
 some melodic phras^e or the energy of some rhythmic 
 figure to supply what is necessary on the side of feeling. 
 In such works a characteristic subject is taken as a thesis, 
 and presented in every possible light with byplay of sub- 
 ordinate theses, like little commentaries, which are often 
 beautifully expressive melodic figures, and are all welded 
 together into a complete whole by the endless resource 
 and acute instinct of the composer. 
 
 The style of the organ works is always eminently 
 serious, as befits the character of the instrument. But 
 Bach uses subjects with regular dance rhythms, as well 
 as those of the choral type ; and those which are most 
 popular are generally the rhythmic fugues. In the toc- 
 catas, fantasias, and preludes he is but rarely rhythmic 
 to any pronounced extent. He finds figures which have 
 a natural animation without too much lilt, and welds 
 them into great sequences, which have a coherence of 
 their own from the point of view of tonal design, with- 
 out having anything of the sonata character about tliem. 
 
CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 199 
 
 The soiuita mood and type of form is consjiicuously 
 absent, and most happily so. That grew up under secular 
 conditions, and the style represents totally different habits 
 of mind and manner from those which were natural to 
 the men who cultivated the old polyphonic forms. Bach 
 succeeded in finding forms for himself which in relation 
 to his polyphonic methods are completely satisfying to 
 the mind, and admitted of wide range of modulation and 
 variety in the presentation of subjects without distracting 
 the attention from the polyphonic treatment which is the 
 essence of his style. He had complete mastery of all 
 genuine organ devices which tell in the hearing. The 
 effects of long sustained notes accompanied by wonderful 
 ramifications of rapid passages; the effects of sequences 
 of linked suspensions of great powerful chords ; the con- 
 trast of whirling rapid notes with slow and stately march 
 of pedals and harmonies. He knew how the pearly clear- 
 ness of certain stops lent itself to passages of intricate 
 rhythmic counterpoint, and what charm lay in the perfect 
 management of several simultaneous melodies — especially 
 when the accents came at different moments in the diffe- 
 rent parts ; and he designed his movements so well as 
 to make all such and many other genuine organ effects 
 exert their fullest impression on the hearers. He rarely 
 allows himself to break into a dramatic vein, though he 
 sometimes appeals to the mind in phases which are 
 closely akin to the dramatic — as in the great fantasia 
 in G minor, the toccata in D minor, the prelude in B 
 minor. He occasionally touches on tender and pathetic 
 strains, but for the most part rightly adopts an attitude 
 of grand dignity which is at once generous in its warmth 
 and vigour, and reserved in the matter of sentiment. 
 
 His work in this line seems to comprise all the possibili- 
 ties of pure organ music. Everything that has been written 
 since is but the pale shadow of his splendid conceptions ; 
 
-oo MUSIC. 
 
 and though the modern attempts to turn the organ 
 into a sort of second-rate orchestra by means of in- 
 finite variety of stops are often very surprising (and 
 very heterogeneous), they certainly cannot compare with 
 his work for intrinsic quality or genuine direct impres- 
 siveness. The organ is naturally associated with types 
 of thought and emotion which are traditionally referred 
 to a religious basis ; and the later development of purely 
 secular music has hardly touched its true field. 
 
 In the line of orchestral music, such as orchestral 
 suites and concerti grossi, Bach's achievements are often 
 supremely delightful — vigorous, vivacious, and character- 
 istic. But they are not of any great historical importance. 
 The backward state of the arts of instrumentation tells 
 against them, as does Bach's natural inclination to treat 
 all the members of his orchestra on equal terms as so 
 many counterpoints. On the other hand, his work for 
 har]3sichord and clavichord is of supreme importance ; for 
 in this line again he put the crown on a special type of 
 development, and made the final and most perfect expo- 
 sition of the varieties of the suite form, and of the old 
 instrumental fugue, as well as of all those varieties of 
 forms of toccata and fantasia which were especially 
 characteristic of the polyphonic period. 
 
 In connection with these lesser keyed instruments his 
 objects were necessarily different from those which he had 
 in view in organ composition. No volume of sound nor 
 sustainment of tone for any length of time was possible. 
 While the organ had ancient associations and great echo- 
 ing buildings to lend enchantment to the performance, 
 the lesser keyed instruments were chiefly confined to the 
 intimate familiarities of domestic life. Bach's favourite 
 instrument, the clavichord, admitted of some tender ex- 
 pression and delicate phrasing ; but the harpsichord, with 
 a certain noble roughness of tone, admitted of hardlv 
 
CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 201 
 
 any expression or variety of volume. Here indeed was 
 a great temptation to subside into purely intellectual 
 subtleties. But there was an amount of human nature 
 about Bach which prevented his wasting his time in 
 ingenious futilities. Considering how infinitely capable 
 he was of every kind of ingenuity, it is surprising how 
 few examples there are of misuse of artistic resources. 
 He was incessantly trying experiments, and it was natural 
 that he should test the effect of pure technical feats 
 now and then, but the proportion of things which are 
 purely mechanical to those which have a genuine musical 
 basis is very small. He exercised his supreme mastery of 
 such resources very often, as in the canons in the Gold- 
 berg Variations, but in most cases the mere ingenuity is 
 subordinate to higher and more generous principles of 
 effect. Exceptions like the Kunst der Fuge and Musi- 
 kalisches Opfer were definitely contrived for definitely 
 technical purposes, and hardly come into the range of 
 real practical music. 
 
 Among the most important of his clavier works are the 
 several groups of suites and partitas. These are sets of 
 dance tunes grouped together in such a way as to make 
 a composite cycle out of well contrasted units, all knit 
 together in the circuit of one key. The idea of group- 
 ing dance tunes together was of very old standing ; and 
 composers had tried endless varieties, from galliards and 
 pa vans to rigadoons and trumpet tunes. But by degrees 
 they settled down to a scheme which was in principle 
 exactly the same as that of the distribution of sonata 
 movements in later times — having the serious and more 
 highly organised movements at the beginning, the slow 
 dances in the middle, and the gay rhythmic dances at 
 the end. Many composers had succeeded admirably in 
 this form, especially Couperin, who generally fell in with 
 the taste of his French audieiTces by adding to the nucleus 
 
203 MUSIC. 
 
 a, long series of lively picture-tunes wlnclx savoured of 
 the theatrical ballet. Bach took Couperin for one of his 
 models, and paid attention chiefly to the most artistic 
 part of his work, and set himself to improve upon it. 
 The form in which he cast his movements is always on 
 the same lines. They are divided into two nearly equal 
 halves, the first passing out from the principal key to a 
 point of contrast, and closing there to emphasise it ; and 
 the second starting from that point and returning to the 
 point with which the movement began. This is all that 
 the movements have of actual harmonic form, though 
 they frequently illustrate an early stage of typical sonata 
 movements, by the correspondence of the opening bars of 
 each half, and of the closing bars of each half. The 
 texture of all the movements — even of the lightest — is 
 polyphonic. The two first movements of the suite are 
 generally an allemande and a courante, which are often 
 very elaborate in intricacy of independent counterpoint. 
 The courante was also made additionally intricate by 
 curious cross rhythms. In these movements Bach is 
 more often purely technical than in any other branch 
 of his work ; and though very dignified and noble, they 
 are occasionally rather dry. On the other hand, the 
 central movement (the sarabande) almost always repre- 
 sents his highest pitch of expressiveness and interest ; and 
 it is, moreover, the movement in which he is least contra- 
 puntal. There are sarabandes of all kinds. Some are 
 purely melodic, some superbly rich in harmonisation, 
 some gravely rhythmic, and some treated with beauti- 
 fully expressive counterpoint. In almost all Bach strikes 
 some vein of very concentrated expression, and maintains 
 it with perfect consistency from beginning to end. After 
 the central expressive point of the sarabande the light and 
 gay movements naturally follow. A suite was held to be 
 complete which had but one of such merry movements 
 
CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 203 
 
 (a gigue) at the end. But as a sort of concession to 
 human weakness very light and rhythmic movements 
 were commonly admitted directly after the sarabande, 
 such as the bourrees, gavottes, minuets, and passepieds. 
 In such movements Bach was wonderfully at home. In 
 perfect neatness and finish of such rapid, sparkling little 
 movements, no one has ever surpassed him ; and he con- 
 trived them throughout in the terms of perfect art. For 
 ythey are not of the modern type of dance tune with 
 dummy accompaniment, but works in which everything 
 sounding has vitality, most frequently in the form of 
 busiest and merriest two-part counterpoint. The final 
 gigues also are nearly always contrapuntal, and often 
 almost fugal. But they are by no means severe. Such 
 examples as the gigue of the G major French suite and 
 the F major English suite are sufiicient to prove that 
 uncompromisingly artistic methods are by no means in- 
 consistent with most vivacious gaiety. 
 
 Of all the works with which Bach enriched the world, 
 the one which is most cherished by musicians is the Col- 
 lection of Preludes and Fugues which is known in Eng- 
 land as the " Forty-eight," and in Germany as " Das 
 wohltemperirte Clavier "—which means "The clavichord 
 tuned in equal temperament." The very name of this 
 work brings forward a point which is of great moment 
 in the .story of the art, namely, the final settling of the 
 particular scale which serves for all our later music. 
 
 In choral music wide diatonic intervals are so much 
 preferable to semitones that in the early days, when all 
 music was choral, composers found a very limited number 
 of fiats and sharps sufficient for all their requirements. 
 ]Mod Illations from one key to another were not thought 
 of in the way in which they are now, for men were very 
 slow in arriving at a clear understanding of the principle 
 of tonalitv or definition of kev. But when instrumental 
 
204 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 music began to be cultivated, and men developed a sense 
 for various keys, and began to use modulations as a basis 
 of design as well as a means of effect, tliey were brought 
 face to face with a perplexing problem. It is a familiar 
 paradox of acoustics that if a series of fifths are tuned 
 one on the top of another, the notes at which they arrive 
 soon begin to be different from notes at the same posi- 
 tion in the scale which are arrived at by other methods 
 of tuning. Thus, if starting from C, the notes G, D, and 
 E, are successively tuned as perfect fifths, the E is not 
 the same E that would be produced by tuning a true 
 third and transposing it by the necessary octaves. And 
 the same happens if the fifths are tuned one on the 
 top of another till they appear to arrive at the same 
 note from which they started. B-f, according to modern 
 ideas, is the same as C, but if theoretically in tune it would 
 be practically out of tune, and many of the other sharps 
 and flats which coincide on the keyboard are in the same 
 category. This was of course no great obstacle as long as 
 composers only wanted to use Bb, Eb, Cff, F^, and G^, 
 The old methods of tuning made these possible without 
 modifying the essential intervals, such as the fifths and 
 thirds. jSTo provision was made for the other accidentals, 
 because they were not required until music had gone a long 
 way beyond the limits of the ecclesiastical modes. But 
 by Bach's time the feeling for the modern system of keys 
 and of major and minor scales was quite mature. All com- 
 posers perfectly understood the status of the various notes 
 in the scales, at least instinctively, and modulation from 
 one key to another had become a vital essential of art. 
 No music was possible without it. But it still took some 
 time for music to expand so as to make modulation to 
 extraneous keys seem a matter worth contending for. 
 Cautious conservatives would not be persuaded that any 
 modification of the old system of tuning was wanted ; but 
 
CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 205 
 
 the more adventurous spirits would not be gainsaid. Tiiey 
 found that they required to assume Ab to be the same as 
 G^, and Db as C^, and the fact that the chords which 
 resulted were hideously out of tune in the old method 
 of tuning would not stop them. It became more and 
 more obvious that modulation must be possible, for the 
 purposes of the new kind of art, into every key repre- 
 sented by a note in the system. Otherwise there would 
 be blanks in particular directions which would inevitably 
 make the system unequal and imperfect. In other words, it 
 was necessary that all the notes in the system should stand 
 on an equal footing in relation to one another. Bach fore- 
 saw it with such clearness that he tuned his own instru- 
 ment on the system of " equal temperament," and gave his 
 opinion to the world in a most practical form, which was 
 this series of preludes and fugues, major and minor, in 
 every key represented by a note in the system. Till his 
 time certain extreme keys had hardly ever been used, and 
 his action emphasises the final crystallisation of the modern 
 scale system, which makes it as different from the system 
 used by the musicians of the middle ages as the heptatonic 
 system of the Persians is from the pentatonic system 
 of the Chinese. In all cases the scale is an artificial 
 product contrived for particular artistic ends. The old 
 scale, with a limited number of available notes, was 
 sufficient for the purposes of the old church music, be- 
 cause the aims of the art were different. The growth 
 of modern instrumental music brought new aims into 
 men's minds, and they had to contrive a new scale 
 system to satisfy them. The division of the octave 
 into twelve equal intervals, to which Bach in this ob- 
 jective way gave his full sanction, is now a common- 
 place of every musical person's experience. Some people 
 imagine that it was always so. But in reality the exist- 
 ing system is only a hundred and fifty years old, and 
 
2o6 MUSIC. 
 
 was resisted by some musicians even till the present 
 century. 
 
 The two books of preludes and fugues represent an 
 extraordinary variety of artistic speculation on Bach's 
 part. They have much the same standing in his artistic 
 scheme as the concentrated lyrical pieces of Chopin and 
 Schumann have in modern times. The system of design 
 upon which the modern pieces are devised had yet to be 
 developed, and the only well established and trustworthy 
 form for concentrated expression of abstract ideas was 
 the fugue. As the fugues in this collection belong to 
 various periods in Bach's life, they naturally illustrate 
 purely technical as well as expressive aims ; but there are 
 very few that have only technical interest. Most of them 
 obviously illustrate such states of feeling and of mind as 
 music is especially fitted to express, and they do so in terms 
 of the most perfect and finished art. There are fugues 
 which express many shades of merriment and banter (0 
 minor, CJf major, Bb in first book ; F minor in second book). 
 Strong confident fugues (D major, first book ; A minor, 
 second book) ; intensely sad fugues (Bb minor and B minor, 
 first book); serenely reposeful fugues (E major and B major, 
 second book); tenderly pathetic fugues (G-i minor in both 
 books). In every case his subject gives him his cue, and 
 the treatment of harmonisation, modulation, counterpoint, 
 design, and general tone, follows consistently the mood 
 which the subject indicated. Bach's objects were absolutely 
 different from those of the theoretical writers on fugue. 
 He aimed at designs which are more akin to the devices of 
 harmonic form ; making different parts of the work balance 
 with one another in style, by special characteristic runs, 
 or special sequences — anything which gives an additional 
 value and interest to the mere technicalities of the treat- 
 ment of the subject. He never makes the mistake of 
 writing a fugue in sonata form, which is little better than 
 
CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 207 
 
 a forcing together of incompatible types of style. From 
 the point of view of polyphonic writing the fugues are 
 as pure as they can be made, but his frequent use of 
 sequences and similar devices gives an additional sense of 
 stability to the design without distracting the mind from 
 the true objects of the form. The fugues have the reputa- 
 tion of being the most important part of the work, but in 
 reality the preludes are fully as interesting, and even more 
 unique. They are very varied in character, and many are 
 evidently experiments in compact little forms, the schemes 
 of which Bach worked out for himself. Several of them 
 exist in more than one version ; which seems to imply that 
 he gave them much consideration, and revised them several 
 times before he was satisfied. No collection of equal in- 
 terest and variety exists in the whole range of music. 
 Some of them are of the nature of very carefully con- 
 sidered extemporisations. The art of preluding was very 
 much practised in those days, and consisted mainly of 
 stringing together successions of chords in the guise of 
 arpeggios, or characteristic figures devised on the frame 
 of an arpeggio. Successions of harmonies had not as 
 yet got stale by conventional usage, so Bach employed 
 his gift for contriving beautiful and neat little arpeggio 
 figures to make complete movements out of chord suc- 
 cessions, which range through dreamy modulations with- 
 out ever losing coherence, or falling out of the natural 
 order required to make a complete and compact unity. 
 A happy extension of this typical prelude-device is to 
 break off the arpeggios and add a coda which serves as 
 a peculiarly apt contrast. Both the preludes in C* major 
 are happy in this respect, especially the one in the second 
 book. Another development of the same type, but in 
 a much more impulsive and expressive style, is that in 
 D minor in the first book, in which the characteristic 
 progressions of harmony are so directed as to arrive at 
 
2c8 MUSIC. 
 
 quite a passionate climax just before the end. Follow- 
 ing the same line again, the figures corresponding to the 
 arpeggio forms of the chords are sometimes made much 
 more definite as musical figures, and a whole movement is 
 developed out of various phases of the same compact 
 musical idea (D major in first book). And so device 
 was built upon device to make new types of movements. 
 Of quite a different order is the wonderful prelude in 
 Eb minor in the first book, which is a highly emotional 
 kind of song, with a most remarkable succession of inter- 
 rupted cadences at the end, which exactly illustrate the 
 longing mood of the principal idea. Of similar type is the 
 highly ornamental solo rhapsody in G minor in the first 
 book, which might be a beautiful violin piece with a 
 compactly consistent polyphonic accompaniment. A few 
 are dance movements in disguise (Ab in first book). One 
 is either an imitation or an ai-rangement of a typical 
 orchestral movement of the period with violin and trumpet 
 passages interchanging (D major in second book). A very 
 few are on the lines of a modern sonata movement, though 
 the style is so different that the relationship is barely re- 
 cognisable (F minor in second book). A few are studies 
 based on short but beautifully expressive figures which 
 make the movement coherent by their constant interchange 
 (B minor in second book). The variety is so extraordinary 
 that it is impossible to give a full account of them ; and 
 every individual movement is a finished piece of work- 
 manship, perfect in design and full of refined expression ; 
 and few things in the range of art are so full of sugges- 
 tions for fresh possibilities on quite unconventional lines 
 in the treatment of harmonic expression, melody, and 
 rhythm. The preludes and fugues as a whole have been 
 subjected to the closest scrutiny by numberless musicians 
 of the highest intelligence for the greater part of a 
 century, and they bear the test so well that the better 
 
CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 209 
 
 men know them the more they resort to them ; and the 
 collection is likely to remain the sacred book of musicians 
 who have any real musical sense as long as the present 
 system of music continues. 
 
 In their particular phase of art they appear to touch 
 the highest point imaginable. Bach was fortunate in 
 occupying a unique position at the end of the purely 
 polyphonic period, before the influence of the Italian 
 opera had gained force enough to spoil the fresh sincerity 
 of such polyphonic works. The moment the balance 
 swung over to the harmonic side, and men thought more 
 of the easy progressions of the harmony than of the 
 details of the polyphonic texture, work on his lines 
 became almost impossible. The change is curiously illus- 
 trated by the difference between the ring of such a work 
 as his Chromatische Fantasie, and of the experiments in 
 the same line by so true a composer as his son, Philip 
 Emmanuel. The first is one of the greatest movements 
 ever written for a keyed instrument; the latter soon 
 reveals a mechanical emptiness, when the formulas and 
 types of phrase of an Italian pattern are given in ecstatic 
 fragments, which are utterly inconsistent with the formal 
 Italian style. It is perhaps possible to write something 
 new on the lines of the toccata as well as on the lines 
 of the suite; but in his particular polyphonic line 
 Bach's work is so high and noble that it entirely for- 
 bids all hope of advance beyond his standard. People 
 have very rarely attempted toccatas of his type again. 
 The modern type is a totally different thing, for some 
 curious convention seems to have grown up that a toc- 
 cata is a movement in which rapid notes must go on 
 from beginning to end. Bach's works were founded on 
 the types of the old organists, and it was a very con- 
 genial style to him — as he revelled in the grand succes- 
 sions of powerful harmonies, and the contrasts of brilliant 
 
2IO MUSIC. 
 
 passages, and the varieties of all possible imitative pas- 
 sages, and expressive counterpoint. Indeed he had a 
 gift for rapid ornamental passages almost unequalled 
 I by any other composer ; for they never suggest mere 
 I emptiness and show, but have some function in relation 
 , to the design, or some essential basis of effect, or some 
 j ingenious principle of accent, or some inherent principle 
 j of actual melodic beauty which puts them entirely out of 
 i the category of things purely ornamental. Thus even into 
 I the merest trifles he infused reality. The same genuiue- 
 I ness and sincerity look out from all his work ; and — art 
 ' having been at the right stage for his purposes — give the 
 world assurance of a man. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE BEGINNINGS OF MODERN INSTRUMENTAL 
 MUSIC. 
 
 It would have been an eminently pardonable mistake for 
 any intelligent musician to have fallen into in the third 
 quarter of the eighteenth century, if he concluded that J. S. 
 Bach's career was a failure, and that his influence upon 
 the progress of his art amounted to the minimum con- 
 ceivable. Indeed the whole course of musical history in 
 every branch went straight out of the sphere of his acti- 
 vity for a long while ; his work ceased to have any signi- 
 ficance to the generation which succeeded him, and his 
 eloquence fell upon deaf ears. A few of his pupils went 
 on writing the same kind of music in a half-hearted way, 
 and his own most distinguished son, Philip Emmanuel, 
 adopted at least the artistic manner of working up his 
 details and making the internal organisation of his works 
 alive with figure and rhythm. But even he, the sincerest 
 composer of the following generation, was infected by the 
 complacent, polite superficiality of his time ; and was forced, 
 through accepting the harmonic principle of working, to 
 take with it some of the empty formulas and conventional 
 tricks of speech which seem to belie the genuineness of 
 his utterances, and put him out of touch with his whole- 
 hearted father. 
 
 The fact of J. S. Bach's isolation is so obvious that 
 it is often referred to and accounted for on the ground 
 that he was so far before his time. It is true that his 
 gift for divining new possibilities of combination, new 
 
212 MUSIC. 
 
 progressions of harmony, and new effects and procedures 
 of modulation, was so great that his contemporaries' wits 
 were fatigued before they got to the point of following 
 his drift ; and succeeding generations plodded on for a 
 long time before they came up with him, and grasped 
 that he aimed not at pure intellectualities, but at expres- 
 sion. This, however, is not a complete explanation of the 
 facts, but only a superficial illustration of more widely 
 acting causes which governed the progress of art. The 
 very loftiness of Bach's character and artistic aims pre- 
 vented his condescending to do some of the work which 
 had to be done before modern music could be completely 
 matured ; and the supremacy of Italian music, both ope- 
 ratic and otherwise, in the next generation, and the 
 simultaneous lowering of standard and style, was as 
 inevitable as a reaction as it was necessary as a prelimi- 
 nary to further progress. 
 
 Handel and Bach had carried the art of expressive 
 counterpoint to the utmost extremes possible under the 
 artistic conditions of their time, in the combination of 
 polyphonic writing with the simplest kind of hai-monic 
 form. The harmonic quality is still in the background 
 in their work because so much energy is expended upon 
 the complexity of the choral and contrapuntal expression. 
 As long as composers aimed chiefly at choral effect, they 
 were impelled to individualise the parts out of which the 
 harmony was composed, to make them worthy of the human 
 voices ; aiming rather at melodic than rhythmic treatment. 
 And though they submitted to certain general principles of 
 harmonic sequence, the actual principle of harmonic design 
 was more or less a secondary consideration. But after 
 Handel and Bach there did not seem much to be done 
 in this line. Genuine secular influences began to gain 
 strength, and with them the feeling for instrumental music ; 
 and men began to feel their way towards a line of art which 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 
 
 213 
 
 could be altogether complete without the ingenuities of 
 counterpoint or the words which formed a necessary part of 
 vocal utterance. As has been pointed out, an instinctive 
 desire for harmonic design and for clear definite distribu- 
 tion of harmonies had been in the air for a long time. It is 
 as though there had been a wrestle for supremacy between 
 the two principles of treatment. Composers who belonged 
 to the same class as Handel and Bach looked upon the 
 independent and equal freedom of motion of all parts 
 (which is called countei-i^oint) as the essence of good 
 style ; and the massing and distribution of the harmonies 
 as secondary. The two great masters carried their feel- 
 ing for contrapuntal effect into every department of art. 
 Even in their arias the principle is generally discernible. 
 For though they generally only wrote out the voice part 
 and special instrumental parts, and left the harmonies to 
 be supplied from figures by the accompanist, yet in a large 
 proportion of cases even the bass part moves about quite 
 as vivaciously as the melodv, as for instance : — 
 
 Voice. 
 
 Yiolin. / 
 
 Bass. 
 
 m 
 
 w 
 
 '^m^^^m 
 
 Ger - ne will ich mich be - que-meu 
 
 ■^-^ 
 
 ggg sp^^ 
 
 im^^^ 
 
 It is true that the use of harmony in the lump was early 
 attempted in solo arias and recitatives, and examples, such 
 as " Comfort ye," may be quoted to show that Handel could 
 use harmonic methods of accompaniment with effect ; but 
 by far the larger proportion of the solo movements in his 
 operas and oratorios have accompaniments which are con- 
 trapuntally conceived ; and Bach's impulse was even more 
 
214 MUSIC. 
 
 strongly to make all parts of his sclieme equally alive and 
 individual. 
 
 But as soon as their work was done the index swung 
 over, and the balance went down on the harmonic side. 
 Counterpoint, and interest in the subordinate parts of 
 the music, became of secondary importance (or even less), 
 aud clearness and intelligibility of harmonic and melodic 
 progressions became the primary consideration. Com- 
 posers made a show of counterpoint now and then, but it 
 was not the real thing. The parts are not in the least 
 interesting. They are mechanically contrived to have the 
 appearance of being busy, and serve for nothing more ; and 
 it was no great loss when such pinchbeck was undisguisedly 
 replaced by the conventional figures of accompaniment 
 which became so characteristic of the harmonic period 
 even in the palmy days of Mozart and Haydn. But such 
 traits and contrivances had to be found out like everything 
 else, and in the time at present under consideration they 
 were not in common use. Indeed as far as the Italian 
 share of the work of developing harmonic form goes, the 
 early period contemporaneous with Handel and Bach is 
 the purest and most honourable. That most remarkable 
 school of Italian violinists and composers who began with 
 Corelli and Vivaldi forms as noble and sincere a group as 
 any in music ; and to them, more than to any others, the 
 credit of establishing the principles of harmonic form on 
 a firm basis is due. 
 
 The great Italian violin-makers had, in the course of 
 the seventeenth century, brought their skill up to the 
 highest perfection, and put into the hands of performers 
 the most ideally perfect instrument for expression that 
 human ingenuity seems capable of devising. Their 
 achievement came just at the right moment for artistic 
 purposes, and Italian musicians of the highest gifts took 
 to the instrument with passionate ardour. In the violin 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 215 
 
 there is so little intervening meclianism between the 
 player and his means of utterance that it becomes almost 
 part of himself; and is as near as possible to being an 
 additional voice with greater compass and elasticity than 
 his natural organ of song. To the Italian nature such 
 an instrument was even specially suitable, and as the 
 inartistic sophisms, to which Italians have proved so 
 lamentably prone to succumb, had not yet darkened 
 the musical horizon, their instinct for beauty of form 
 and melody led them under its influence to very notable 
 achievements. Corelli's style was noble and healthy, but 
 the range of his technique was limited. In that respect 
 his great successors — many of them his pupils or their 
 pupils in turn — progressed by leaps and bounds. Men 
 like Veracini, Tartini, Geminiani, and Locatelli, possessed 
 with the passion to attain some ideal joy that their instru- 
 ment seemed to promise in possibility, soon brought their 
 department of art to almost the highest pitch of per- 
 fection. The congenial nature of their instrument seems 
 to have inspired them to find out with extraordinary 
 rapidity the forms of melody and figure and the kinds 
 of phrasing and expression that suited it; and adding 
 contrivance to contrivance, they soon learnt the best way 
 to overcome the mechanical difficulties of stopping and 
 bowing in such a way as to obtain the finest tone, the 
 purest intonation, and the greatest facility and fluency of 
 motion. 
 
 But what was still more notable and important was 
 their successful development of a scheme which could 
 be completely intelligible on its own account, without 
 either systematic dance rhythm or contrapuntal de\^ces 
 or words to explain it. The speed with which they ad- 
 vanced towards an intelligent grasp of the necessary 
 principles for such a purpose of design is very surpris- 
 iuo-. It was probably due to the fact that they were all 
 
2i6 MUSIC. 
 
 performers, and performers on a solo instrument. The 
 central idea in the violin soloist's mind was to make his 
 effect by melody, with subordinate accompaniment ; that 
 is, melody supported by simple harmonies, and not melody 
 as only the upper part of a set of equal independent 
 parts. The violin has been forced — and forced with suc- 
 cess — ^to play contrapuntal movements ; but it may be 
 confessed, without disrespect to J. S. Bach, that counter- 
 point is not its natui^al mode of expressing itself, and that 
 its resources of expression could not have led to the 
 development of the typical Italian solo sonata if the 
 accompaniment had been on equal terms with the solo 
 instrument. It is naturally a single-part instrument — a 
 singing instrument with great capacity for enlivening and 
 adorning its cantaUle with brilliant passages. It was 
 therefore imperative for the player-composers to find 
 a form which should not depend for its interest upon 
 contrapuntal ingenuities and devices — a form which 
 should mainly depend u^son distribution of melodious 
 passages, supported by systematic and simple harmonic 
 accompaniment. The opportunities for testing their ex- 
 periments being plentiful, they soon found and estab- 
 lished a solution of the problem; and their solution forms 
 the groundwork of the development of those principles 
 of design which ultimately served Haydn, Mozart, and 
 Beethoven in all their greatest and most perfect works. 
 
 The types which served these composers for models 
 were the Senate da Chiesa and the Sonate da Camera 
 of the Corellian time. Their instinct impelled them to 
 develop movements which were not purely dance tunes, 
 but of wider and freer range; which should admit of 
 warm melodic exjiression without degenerating into in- 
 coherent rambling ecstasy. They had the sense to see 
 from the first that mere formal continuous melody is not 
 the most suitable type for instrumental music. For, as 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 217 
 
 was pointed out in the first chapter, there is deep-rooted 
 in the nature of all instrumental music the need of some 
 rhythmic vitality, in consonance with the primal source 
 of instrumental expression. And for instrumental music, 
 pure, continuous, vocal melody, undefined by rhythm, is 
 only temporarily or relatively endurable ; even with such 
 an ideal melodic instrument as the violin. These player- 
 composers, then, set themselves to devise a scheme in which 
 to begin with the contours of connected melodic phrases 
 (supported and defined by simple harmonic accompani- 
 ment) gave the impression of definite tonality — that is, of 
 being decisively in some particular key, and giving an 
 unmistakable indication of it. They found out how to pro- 
 ceed by giving the impression of leaving that key and pass- 
 ing to another, without departing from the characteristic 
 spirit and mood of the music, as shown in the "subjects" 
 and figures ; and how to give the impression of relative com- 
 pleteness by closing in a key which is in strong contrast 
 to the first; and so round off one-half of the design. But 
 this point being in apposition to the starting-point, leaves 
 the mind dissatisfied and in expectation of fresh dis- 
 closures. So they made the balance complete by resuming 
 the subjects and melodic figures of the first half in the 
 extraneous key and working back to the starting-point; 
 and then closing in that key with the same figures as 
 were used to conclude the first half, but in the principal 
 key instead of the key of contrast. This was practically 
 the scheme adopted in dance movements of suites; but 
 the great violinists improved upon the suite type by much 
 clearer definition of the subjects ; and by giving them a 
 much wider range, and making them represent the key 
 more decisively. As time went on they extended the 
 range of each division of the movement, and made them 
 balance one another more completely. They also length- 
 ened the second half of the movement by introducing 
 
2i8 MUSIC. 
 
 more extensive modulations in the middle of it, and 
 thus introduced a new and important element of con- 
 trast. How this simple tyjje of form was extended 
 and developed into the scheme uniformly adopted in 
 their best movements by the three great masters of pure 
 instrumental music must be considered in its place. 
 
 This was the highest type of harmonic design used by 
 the early composers of sonatas. They also used simpler 
 ones like the primitive rondo, which is the least organised 
 and coherent of forms; and the aria type, which is the 
 same thing in principle of structure as the familiar 
 primitive minuet and trio. As instrumental art was still 
 in a very exjDerimental stage the character and order of 
 the movements which they combined to make a complete 
 group or sonata varied considerably ; but the general 
 tendency was towards the familiar arrangement of three 
 movements: — i. A solid allegro; 2. an expressive slow 
 movement ; 3. a lively finale — to which was often most 
 suitably appended a slow and dignified "introduction." 
 The reasons which made men gravitate towards this 
 grouping of movements appear to be obvious. The slow 
 introduction was particularly suitable to the noble qualities 
 of the violin, and was the more needful in violin sonatas, 
 as it not infrequently happened that the first allegro was 
 in a loose fugal form, following the model of the can- 
 zonas in Sonate da Chiesa ; and as that would necessitate 
 beginning with only a single part sounding at a time, it 
 was not sufiicient to lay hold of the audience's attention 
 at once. Whereas a massive full-sounding introduction 
 insists upon being heard. Moreover, the instinct of the 
 composers was right in adopting a serious style to put the 
 audience in proper mood for what was to follow. It is 
 a familiar experience that when people are appealed to 
 on trivial and light grounds they can with difficulty be 
 brought to attend to anything serious afterwards. The 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 219 
 
 principal allegro movement which, follows the introduction 
 always tends to be the most elaborately organised of all 
 the movements ; and to appeal to the intellectual side of 
 the audience. In this the composer puts forth all his 
 resources of development and richness of design. The 
 intellectual tendency was illustrated in the early days by 
 the fugal form in which the movement was usually cast, 
 as in the Senate da Chiesa ; and when in harmonic form 
 it was the one in which the design above described was 
 adopted. Sometimes it was an allemande, as in the 
 Senate da Camera, and the suites and partitas and ordres. 
 The allemande was nominally a dance form, and was 
 distributed in regular groups of bars in accordance with 
 the requirements of the dance; but it was always the 
 most solid and elaborate of all the movements in the 
 group in which it occurred (except sometimes the French 
 courante), and it often contained imitations and elaborate 
 counterpoint. The position of a movement of this char- 
 acter fits with the requirements of an audience, for people 
 are more capable of entering into and enjoying serious 
 matters and subtleties of intellectual skill when their 
 attention is fresh and unwearied. 
 
 After the intellectual came the emotional. The slow 
 movement which follows, not only serves as a marked 
 contrast, but appeals to the opposite side of men's natures. 
 The intellectual faculties are, comparatively speaking, 
 allowed to rest, and all the appeal is made to sensibilities 
 by expression. Strange as it may seem, it was in this 
 movement that the Italian violin-composers most fre- 
 quently failed ; and the same is the case with Haydn and 
 Mozart and the whole school of harpsichord-composers; 
 and the full perfection of the slow emotional movement 
 was not attained till Beethoven's time. The reason is 
 that music had to wait for the development of the tech- 
 nique of expression much longer than for the technique 
 
220 MUSIC. 
 
 of mere design. And it may be noted in passing tliat 
 nothing marks the difference between extreme modern 
 music and the earlier phases than the different degree 
 and quality of passionate emotion it expresses. But at 
 least these performer-composers aimed at expression in 
 this movement ; and when they were at fault and found 
 nothing sympathetic to say, they took refuge — like opera 
 singers and people in ordinary circumstances in life — in 
 ornamental flourishes and such superfluities as disguise 
 the barrenness of invention and feeling under the show 
 of dexterity. 
 
 The function of the lively last movement is equally 
 intelligible. It is usually in dance rhythm of some kind, 
 and was always more direct and free from intellectual 
 subtleties than the other movements. It was gay — 
 spontaneous — headlong. At once an antidote and a tonic. 
 Eestoring the balance after the excitement of too much 
 sensibility, and calling into play the healthy human 
 faculties which are associated with muscular activity. 
 As though the composer, after putting his auditors under 
 a spell of enchantment, called them back to the realities 
 of life by setting their limbs going. 
 
 In short, the sum of the scheme is — 
 
 1. The preliminary summons to attention, attuning the 
 mind to what is to follow. 
 
 2. The appeal to intelligence ; and to appreciation of 
 artistic subtleties and refinements of design. 
 
 3. The appeal to emotional sensibilities. 
 
 4. The re-establishment of healthy brightness of tone — 
 a recall to the realities of life. 
 
 This is the natural outline of the scheme, which in the 
 main has persisted from the beginnings of genuine instru- 
 mental music till the present day. It has of course been 
 varied by the ingenuity and insight of really capable 
 composers, as well as by the fatuity of musical malaprops. 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 221 
 
 Nearly all the violin sonatas of the Italian type were 
 written by violin players, with the exception of a few by 
 John Sebastian Bach, Handel and Hasse, and such com- 
 prehensive composers. The quality of these works is on 
 the whole far higher than that of the examples of other 
 forms of instrumental music of the early time, but very 
 important results were also obtained by composers of 
 harpsichord sonatas. 
 
 Keyed instruments did not find so much favour at 
 this time with Italians. The superior capacities of the 
 violin for cantabile purposes attracted the best of their 
 efforts, and met with most sympathy from the public. 
 It remained for Germans, with their great sense of the 
 higher resources of harmony and polyphony, to cultivate 
 the instruments which offered excellent opportunities in 
 those directions, but were decidedly defective for the utter- 
 ance of melody. Nevertheless Italians contributed an 
 extremely important share to the early establishment of 
 this department of art ; and even before the violin sonata 
 had been cultivated with so much success, the singular 
 genius of Domenico Scarlatti had not only laid the foun- 
 dations of modern music for keyed instruments, but con- 
 tributed some very permanent items to the edifice. His 
 instinct for the requirements of his instrument was so 
 marvellous, and his development of technique so wide 
 and rich, that he seems to spring full armed into the view 
 of history. That he had models and types to work upon 
 is certain, but his style is so unlike the familiar old suites 
 and fugues and fantasias and ricercare, and other harjDsi- 
 chord music of the early times, that it seems likely that 
 the work of his prototypes has been lost. His musical 
 character makes it probable that he studied players rather 
 than composers ; for the quality that is most conspicuous 
 in his work is his thorough command of the situation as 
 a performer. His work, at its best, gives the impression 
 
222 MUSIC. 
 
 that he played upon his audience as much as he did on 
 his harpsichord. He knows well the things that will tell, 
 and how to awake interest in a new mood when the effects 
 of any particular line are exhausted. Considering how 
 little attention had been given to technique before his 
 time, his feats of agility are really marvellous. The 
 variety and incisiveness of his rhythms, the peculiarities 
 of his harmony, his wild whirling rapid passages, his rat- 
 tling shakes, his leaps from end to end of the keyboard, 
 all indicate a jDreternaturally vivacious temperament ; and 
 unlike many later virtuosos, he is thoroughly alive to the 
 meaning of music as an art, and does not make his feats 
 of dexterity his ]3rincipal object. They serve as the means 
 to convey his singularly characteristic ideas in forms 
 as abstract as modern sonatas. The definiteness of his 
 musical ideas is one of the most surprising things about 
 him. For when the development of any branch of art 
 is in its infancy, it generally taxes all a man's powers 
 to master the mere mechanical problems of technique and 
 style. But Scarlatti steps out with a sort of diabolic 
 masterfulness, and gives utterance with perfect ease to 
 things which are unmistakable images of his charac- 
 teristic personality. In spirit and intention his works 
 prefigure one of the latest of modern musical develop- 
 ments, the scherzo. For vivacity, wit, irony, mischief, 
 mockery, and all the category of human traits which 
 Beethoven's scherzo served so brilliantly to express, the 
 world had to wait for a full century to see Scarlatti's 
 equal again. He left behind him a most copious legacy 
 to mankind, but his successors were very slow to avail 
 themselves of it. The majority of harpsichord composers 
 immediately after his time were more inclined to follow 
 a path that was redolent of the saponaceous influences 
 of opera, and made their works but slightly distinct as 
 forms of instrumental art. His influence is traceable 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 223 
 
 here and there, but it did not bear full fruit till the 
 development of genuine pianoforte playing began. 
 
 His sense of design was not so strong as his ideas or 
 his feeling for effect. His works consist of single move- 
 ments, which are almost invariably in the same form as 
 the earlier movements of suites, such as the allemandes 
 and courantes; only considerably extended after the 
 manner of the violin sonatas, and singularly free from 
 systematic dance rhythm. He rarely wrote fugues, and 
 when he did they were not particularly good, either 
 technically or intrinsically. He was too much of a per- 
 former to care much about the conventional ingenuities 
 of fugue form, and too much of a free lance to put his 
 thoughts in so elaborate a form ; though he often makes 
 a beginning as if he was going to write a serious fugue, 
 and then goes on in a different manner. The harmonic 
 principle of design came to him most naturally, and, 
 as far as they go in that respect, his movements are 
 singularly lucid and definite. But they are not operatic. 
 They are genuine representatives of a distinct branch 
 of art; and the expression of ideas in terms exactly 
 adapted to the instrument by means of which they are 
 to be made perceptible to the human mind. 
 
 Of the other Italians who did service in the line of har]3- 
 sichord music the most deserving of mention is Paradisi. 
 His technique is nothing like so extended as Scarlatti's, 
 and the style is much less incisive ; but he shows a very 
 excellent instinct for his instrument, and a singularly just 
 and intelligent feeling for harmonic design. The best 
 of his sonatas (which are commonly in two movements 
 without a slow movement) show considerable skill in 
 modelling ideas into the forms necessary for defining the 
 key. The design of his best movements is the same as 
 that of the great violin composers ; but even more struc- 
 turally definite. He deserves credit also for devising true 
 
224 MUSIC. 
 
 sonata subjects, and escaping the temptation of writing 
 fragments of operatic tunes with dummy accompaniments 
 — a rock upon which the Italians and even some very- 
 wise Germans later were very liable to split. 
 
 The true centre of progress in the line of the harpsi- 
 chord sonata soon proved to be in Germany. As has 
 been before remarked, many of Germany's most dis- 
 tinguished composers, such as Graun, Hasse, and John 
 Christian Bach, adopted Italian manners to suit the 
 tastes of the fashionable classes ; but there were a few 
 here and there who did not bow the knee to Baal; 
 and noteworthiest of these was Philip Emmanuel Bach. 
 Though gifted with little of the poetical qualities or 
 the noble loftiness of idea and expression of his father, 
 he was in a position to do considerable service to his art. 
 He adopted without reserve the Italian harmonic prin- 
 ciple of design which had become universal by his time, 
 and adapted to it a method of treating details, and har- 
 monisation, and rhythmic and figurative interest, which 
 was essentially Teutonic. The high intellectual qualities 
 come out both in his scope of harmony, and in the rich- 
 ness and ingenious subtlety with which he manipulates 
 his sentences and phrases. He did so much to give the 
 harpsichord sonata a definite status of its own that he 
 is sometimes spoken of as its inventor. This he obviously 
 was not, but he was for some time its most prominent 
 representative. He owed a good deal to his father's 
 training and example, though more in respect of detail 
 and texture than in style or design. His father had 
 made some experiments in the harmonic style, but on 
 the whole he was rather shy of it, and rarely achieved 
 anything first rate in it. But his son, taking to it at 
 a time when it had become more familiar and more 
 malleable, was the first to treat it with Teutonic thorough- 
 ness. Italian influence is sometimes apparent, but happily 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 225 
 
 it is uot often the influence of the opera. Instrumental 
 music bad developed far enough for him to express his 
 ideas in a genuinely instrumental style — frequently in 
 figures as compact and incisive as Beethoven's — to make 
 his modulations as deliberately and clearly as Mozart, and 
 to define his contrasting key with perfect clearness, and 
 to dispose all the various ingredients of his structure 
 with unmistakable skill and certitude. His sonatas are 
 usually in three movements — the central one slow and 
 expressive, and the first and last quick. It is charac- 
 teristic of his Teutonic disposition that he is a little shy 
 of adopting the traditional lightness and gaiety as the 
 mood of his last movement. But he finds an excellent 
 alternative in forcible vigour and brilliancy. 
 
 There is yet another branch of instrumental music which 
 was very slow in developing, but has come in later days to 
 form one of the most conspicuous features of the art. 
 
 As has before been pointed out, all the composers of 
 the early part of the eighteenth century, even the giants, 
 had been specially backward in feeling for orchestral 
 effect. They used instruments of most diverse tone- 
 quality in a purely contrapuntal manner, just as they 
 would have used voices, or the independent parts of an 
 organ composition. Those methods of using colour which 
 enhance the telling power of ideas, and exert such moving 
 glamour upon the sensibilities of modern human creatures, 
 were quite out of their range. The adoption of harmonic 
 principles of treatment were as essential to the develo])- 
 ment of modern orchestration as to the development of 
 forms of the sonata order. As long as composers were 
 writing accompaniments to contrapuntal choral works 
 they disposed their instruments also contrapuntally ; and 
 it was not till they had to write independent instrumental 
 movements that the requirements of instrumentation began 
 to dawn ujoon them. 
 
 P 
 
226 MUSIC. 
 
 The first occasions which induced composers to attempt 
 independent orchestral movements of the harmonic kind, 
 were for the symphonies or overtures of operas. These 
 had been written at first, as by Scarlatti and Lulli, for 
 stringed instruments only, and occasionally with the 
 addition of trumpet solos. Composers insensibly got into 
 the habit of enhancing the effect of their strings by a 
 few other wind instruments; and before long the group 
 of instruments was stereotyped (as every other depart- 
 ment of opera was) into a set of strings and two pairs of 
 wind instruments, such as two hautboys, or two flutes and 
 two horns. The conventional opera writers had no very 
 great inducement to make their overtures either finished 
 works of art, or subtly expressive, or in any way interest- 
 ing, for they felt that very little attention was paid to 
 them. They appear to have produced them in a most 
 perfunctory manner, to make a sort of introductory clatter 
 while the fashionable operatic audiences were settling into 
 their places, and exchanging the customary greetings and 
 small talk which are inevitable in such gatherings of light- 
 minded folk. The musical clatter was distributed into 
 three movements, in the same order as the movements of 
 violin sonatas, and in thoroughly harmonic style of the 
 very cheapest description. There inevitably were some 
 composers who could not help putting tolerably artistic 
 touches and lively points into their work, and in course 
 of time the symphonies came to be considerably in request 
 independent of their connection with the operas ; and 
 enormous numbers were written both for people to listen 
 to, and also for them to talk and eat to. Composers 
 usually saved themselves all the trouble they could. They 
 put musical material of such slight definiteness into them 
 that it is often hardly to be dignified by the name of 
 ideas; and they also spared themselves the labour of 
 writing in the parts for the various instruments whenever 
 
MODERN IXSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 227 
 
 possible. They made the second violins play with the first 
 violins, and directed the violas to play with the basses — 
 which must have caused the viola players to spend a good 
 deal of their time in not playing at all, or otherwise in 
 producing extremely disagreeable effects, when the bass 
 part went below their compass. Moreover, the wind 
 instruments that were sufficiently agile were generally 
 directed to double the violins, or to hold notes and 
 chords while the violins ran about in scales or figures. 
 There was little or no idea of differentiating the various 
 parts to suit the respective instruments, and equally little 
 attempt to use their various qualities of tone as means of 
 effect. The horn parts had the most individuality through 
 the mere accident that they were not agile enough to play 
 violin or viola parts ; and composers being driven to give 
 long notes to these instruments, by degrees found out 
 their great value as a means of holding things together 
 and supplying a sort of background of soft steady tone 
 while the other instruments were moving about. 
 
 "When these " symphonies " or " overtures " were played 
 more often independent of the operas, both composers 
 and performers began to realise that they were wasting 
 opporinmities by slovenliness. The process of coming 
 round to more sensible and refined ways is very inter- 
 esting to watch in the successive publications of these 
 very numerous symphonies. It is like the gradual return 
 of a human being to intelligence and serviceableness after 
 being temporarily submerged in levity. At first the style 
 of the passages was empty and conventional, and it is quite 
 clear that the players hacked through the jDerformance 
 in a careless style, which perhaps was quite as much as 
 the music and the audience deserved. There were hardly 
 any indications given for the most ordinary refinements of 
 performance — such as phrasing, bowing, ox pianos ov fortes; 
 and gradations of more delicate nature are implied to 
 
228 MUSIC. 
 
 liave been entirely ignored. But as time went on the 
 directions for ex[3ression and refinements of performance 
 became more numerous ; and composers even began to use 
 mutes to vary the effect, and to see that hautboys are 
 capable of better uses than mere pointless doubling of 
 string parts, or playing irrelevant holding notes. Little by 
 little things crept into a better state of artistic finish and 
 nicety; the varieties of instruments in the group were 
 more carefully considered, and their qualities of tone 
 were used to better purpose; and the style of the passages 
 was better suited to the qualities of the instruments. 
 Composers began to grow more aware of the sensuous 
 effect of colour, and to realise that two colours which 
 are beautiful when pure may be coarse and disagreeable 
 when mixed. And so, by degrees, a totally new and 
 extremely subtle branch of art is seen to be emerging 
 from the chaotic products of indifference and careless- 
 ness. The refinements of modern orchestration, and those 
 subtleties of sensuous colour-effect which are among the 
 most marvellous and almost unanalysable developments 
 of human instinct, took a very considerable period to 
 mature, and many generations of men had a share in 
 developing them. But the inherent difference of nature 
 between the old and new is perceptible even in the course 
 of one generation. For even in a symphony of John 
 Christian Bach's there is a roundness and smoothness in 
 the sound of the harmony, as conveyed by the different 
 instrumental timhres, which is quite different from the 
 imassimilated counterpoint of his great father's instru- 
 mental style. In the instrumentation of the great 
 masters of the earlier generation the tone-qualities seem 
 to be divided from one another by innate repulsion ; but 
 in the harmonic style they seem to melt into one another 
 insensibly, and to become part of a composite mass of 
 liarmony whose shades are constantly shifting and varying. 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. 229 
 
 Amongst the meu who had an important share in the 
 early development of orchestral music, a Bohemian violinist 
 named Stamitz seems to have been most noteworthy. 
 He was leader and conductor of the band at the little 
 German court of Mannheim, and seems to have been 
 fortunate in his opportunities of carrying out reforms. 
 He set his face to organise his band thoroughly, 
 to make his violins play with refinement and careful 
 attention to phrasing, and to obtain various shades of 
 2}iano and foiie, and all the advantages which can be 
 secured by good balance of tone. He succeeded in 
 developing the best orchestra in Europe, and established 
 a tradition which lasted long after he had passed away ; 
 even till Mozart came through Mannheim on his way to 
 Paris, and had an opportunity of hearing what refined 
 orchestral playing was like — probably for the first time in 
 his life — with important results to the world in general. 
 
 A similar line was pursued by the Belgian Gossec in 
 Paris, who tried to stir up the Parisians to realise the 
 l^ossibilities of instrumental effect. He in his smaller 
 way followed something of the same line as Berlioz, 
 laying very great, even superfluous, stress on the impor- 
 tance of elaborate directions to the performers. 
 
 The position of Philip Emmanuel Bach in this line of 
 art was important, though peculiar. In his best sym- 
 phonies he adopted a line of his own ; similar in principle 
 to the ways of his father in his orchestral suites and 
 concerti grossi. They are harmonic in style, but not so 
 decisively as his sonatas. Indeed they are quite different 
 in design and style from the symphonies of the Italians 
 above discussed; and though remarkably vigorous, ani- 
 mated and original in conception, they have not led to 
 any further developments in the same line. His manage- 
 ment of instruments shows considerable skill and clear 
 perception of the effective uses to which they can be 
 
230 MUSIC. 
 
 put ; and he treats them with thorough iudependence 
 and variety of effect. His feeling for orchestration is 
 even more strikingly illustrated in his oratorios "The 
 Israelites in the Wilderness " and " The Resurrection." 
 In these he makes experiments in orchestral effects 
 which sound curiously like late modern products, and 
 he tries to enforce the sentiment of his situations with a 
 daring and insight which is very far ahead of his time. 
 But in this, as in many other noteworthy attempts, he 
 was considerably isolated, and out of touch with the easy- 
 going spirit of his day. His works, apart from the 
 sonatas, seem to have taken no hold upon his contem- 
 poraries, and serve chiefly to illustrate the rapidity with 
 which change of view, and the new conditions of art, 
 helped men to discover the possibilities of orchestral 
 effect. The application of instrumental effect to the 
 oratorio was destined ultimately to give that form a new 
 lease of life, and to lead to new ulterior developments, 
 but Philip Emmanuel's attempt was at that time, as far 
 as public taste was concerned, premature. 
 
 The enormous number of symphonies which were pro- 
 duced and published in those days, by composers whose 
 very names are forgotten, proves that public taste was 
 gravitating strongly towards orchestral music; and it is 
 pleasant to reflect that the more composers improved the 
 quality of their art, the more prominently they came into 
 the light of day. When they escaped out of the Slough 
 of Indifference they made progress very fast; and con- 
 sidering how complete is the change of attitude between 
 Bach and Mozart, it is veiy creditable to the energy and 
 sincerity of musical humanity that this new phase of 
 orchestral art was so well organised in the space of about 
 half a century. But it must be remembered that it was 
 the outcome of a separate movement which began before 
 the time of Handel and Bach, and was going on, thougli 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. r^i 
 
 on different lines from those they followed, during their 
 lifetime. Their work, as it were, branched out from the 
 direct line of harmonic music into a special province of 
 its own. The purely harmonic style was not suffi- 
 ciently matured to allow of their expressing themselves 
 fully in it; otherwise a development like Beethoven's 
 would have come nearly a hundred years sooner. It 
 was the possibility of combining the polyphonic prin- 
 ciples of the old choral art — painfully worked out in the 
 ages before harmonic music began — with the simpler 
 principles of the new harmonic music, which afforded 
 them the opportunity they used so magnificently. And 
 while they were busy with their great achievements, 
 it was left to smaller men to get through the prelimi- 
 naries of such forms as the sonata and the symphony — 
 for even such insignificant business as the devising of 
 an " Alberti bass," and of similar forms of conventional 
 accompaniment, had to be done by somebody. But by 
 the multitude of workers the requirements of art were 
 brought up to the penultimate stage ready for the use 
 of the three great representatives of instrumental music. 
 
 The main points so far achieved may be summed up. 
 
 The Italians initiated an enthusiastic culture of the 
 violin, and in a very short time developed the resources 
 of its technique and the style of music adapted to it. 
 The same was done simultaneously for the harpsichord 
 by other groups of composers in Italy, Germany, France, 
 and England. To suj^ply these typical solo instruments 
 with intelligible music, composers laboured with excel- 
 lent success to devise schemes of design and methods of 
 development, which without the help of words became 
 sufficient reason of existence and principle of coherence. 
 At the same time, the growth of feeling for the effect 
 of massed harmonies placed composers in a position to 
 develop the possibilities of effect of orchestral instruments 
 
232 MUSIC. 
 
 in combination ; and before long tlie sense of the adap- 
 tability of various kinds of technique and the relations 
 of different qualities of tone to one another, and the 
 possible functions of the different instruments in the 
 scheme of orchestral composition, put things in the right 
 direction to move on towards the development of the 
 latest episodes in the story of music — the employment 
 of the complicated resources of an immense aggregate 
 of different instruments for the purposes of vivid and 
 infinitely variable expression. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA. 
 
 Every form of art has a variety of sides and aspects 
 which appeal to different men in different degrees. A 
 work may entrance one man through the beauty of its 
 colour, while another finds it insupportable for its weak- 
 ness of design. One may care only for melody, when an- 
 other is satisfied with grand harmony ; one wants artistic 
 skill when another cares only for expression. This is true 
 even of symphonies and sonatas, and such pure examples 
 of human artistic contrivance; but in opera the complica- 
 tion and variety of constituents intensify the situation 
 tenfold, for the elements that have to be combined seem 
 to be almost incompatible. Scenic effect has to be con- 
 sidered as well as the development of the dramatic situa- 
 tions, and the dialogue, and the music. The action and 
 the scenery distract the attention from the music, and the 
 dialogue naturally goes too fast for it. Music, being 
 mainly the expression of states of mind and feeling, takes 
 time to convey its meaning; and in all but the most 
 advanced stages of art the types of design which seem 
 indispensable to make it intelligible require the repetition 
 of definite passages of melody, and submission to rules of 
 procedure which seem to be completely at variance with 
 dramatic effect. If the action halts or hangs fire, the 
 dramatic effect is paralysed ; but if a phase of human 
 passion which has once been passed has to be re-enacted 
 to meet the supposed requirements of music, the situation 
 
 becomes little less than ridiculous. So, in early days it 
 
 233 
 
234 MUSIC. 
 
 seemed as if people had to take tlieir choice, and either 
 accept the music as the essential, and let the dramatic effect 
 cease to have any significance ; or to fasten their atten- 
 tion on the action and dialogue, and allow the music to be 
 merely an indefinite rambling background of tone, which 
 was hardly fit to be called music at all. The Italians, 
 who enjoyed the distinction of developing the first stages of 
 the operatic form, were much more impressionable on the 
 musical than on the dramatic side, and as soon as the new 
 secular type of music began to take shape, they gave their 
 verdict absolutely in favour of the former ; and the drama 
 rapidly receded farther and farther into the background. 
 The scheme was well devised up to a certain point ; but as 
 soon as the aria type had been fairly established, the in- 
 genious artifices which seemed to settle the plan of opera- 
 tions degenerated into mere conventions, and even musical 
 progress itself came to a dead standstill. It was impos- 
 sible for the music to grow or develop, for there was 
 nothing in the occasion to call for any human expression 
 or human interest. The sole purpose of existence of the 
 opera was to show off a few celebrated Italian singers, 
 who required to be accommodated according to fixed rules 
 of precedence, which precluded any kind of freedom of 
 dramatic action. The only glimpse of life which was 
 apparent for some time was in the little humorous operas 
 which began to come into notice about the beginning of 
 the eighteenth century. The regular singer's opera was 
 a most solemn and sedate function, and hardly admitted 
 of anything so incongruous as humour, Humorous scenes 
 had been attempted, even by Alessandro Scarlatti; but 
 apparently they were considered out of place, and humour 
 in general was relegated to the little separate musical 
 comedies called intermezzos, or "opera buffa," which 
 were performed in between the acts of the opera seria. 
 From one point of view this made the situation even more 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA. 235 
 
 absurd. It was like performing King Lear and tlie School 
 for Scandal in alternate acts. But tlie ultimate result 
 was eminently beneficial to opera in general. TI1& com- 
 posers who took the opera buffa in hand developed a 
 special style for the purpose — merry, bright, vivacious, 
 and pointed, and in its way very characteristic. In the 
 music of the ojjera scria no attempt was made to follow 
 the action in the music, because action in such situations 
 could have amounted to nothing more than stilted gesticu- 
 lation. But the composers of the intermezzi tried to keep 
 the scene in their minds, and to accentuate gestures by 
 sforzandos and queer suqjrising progressions, in accord- 
 ance with the meaning of the actions. And this is a point 
 of more importance than might appear without paying a 
 little attention to it. As has before been pointed out, 
 music mainly implies vocal expression in melody, and 
 expressive gesture in rhythm and accent; and in the 
 condition into which Italian opera had degenerated, the 
 rhythmic element had for the most part retired into the 
 background. Under the circumstances, the rhythmic 
 animation and gaiety which was adapted to humorous 
 purposes was the very thing that was wanted to reinfuse 
 a little humanity into the formal torpor of opera seria. 
 
 The importance of the new departure may be judged 
 by its fruits. A direct result of considerable importance 
 was the French light comic opera, which started into 
 existence after a visit of an Italian opera troupe to Paris 
 in 1752, who performed Italian intermezzi, and aroused 
 much controversy mainly on the ground that Italians 
 were not Frenchmen. But the style took root and was 
 cultivated by French composers, who developed on its 
 basis a type of light opera of the neatest and most artistic 
 kind. But of still more importance was its actual influence 
 on opera in general. The style inaugurated by the Italians 
 in intermezzi is the source of the sparkling gaiety of 
 
236 MUSIC. 
 
 ]\Iozart's light and merry scenes in Seraglio, Xozze di 
 Figaro, and Don Giovanni. Osmin's famous song in the 
 Seraglio is a direct descendant of the style which Pergolese 
 so admirably illustrated in La Serva Padrona ; and so is all 
 Leporello's and Figaro's music. The style indeed was so 
 congenial to Mozart's disposition that it coloured his work 
 throughout; and traces of it peep out in symphonies, 
 quartetts, and sonatas, as well as in his operas. And 
 even Beethoven sometimes gives clear indications that 
 he knew such ways of expressing lighter moods.^ 
 
 The powerful influence which such a slight and rather 
 trivial style exerted upon music in general at that time is 
 clearly owing to the fact that it was the only line of 
 operatic art which had any real life in it. When serious 
 art becomes a formality, and shows that composers or 
 artists are only conforming to barren formalities, light 
 music, and even vulgar and trivial music, whicli gives 
 people a strong impression of being genuinely human, is 
 bound to succeed. The audiences of the opera were at 
 least allowed to take some genuine interest, and to get 
 a genuine laugh out of the human perplexities and comic 
 situations, and to feel that there was a reality about them 
 which the heroic complacencies of the opera seria did not 
 possess. But as far as solid reforms of the opera seria 
 itself are concerned, the public might have allowed things 
 to go on in the same perfunctory way till the present day. 
 The courtly fashionable people neither wanted nor deserved 
 anything better ; and the general reforms had to be forced 
 on the notice of an indifferent world by the irrepressible 
 energy of a personal conviction. 
 
 Gluck deserves great homage as a man of the rarest 
 genius. But he deserves fully as much again for the 
 splendid sincerity with which he refused to put up with 
 
 ^ Qiiartett in B,', Op. iS, No. 6, <at beginning. Opening scene of 
 Fidelio. Violin sonata in C minor, last movement. 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA. 237 
 
 the shams which the rest of the world found quite good 
 enough to amuse them, and made men wake up to realise 
 that opera was worth reforming. He brought about the 
 first crisis in the history of this form of art, by calling 
 attention to the fact that a work of art is always worth 
 making as good as possible, and that opera itself would 
 be more enjoyable and more worthy of intelligent beings 
 if the dramatic side of the matter received more considera- 
 tion. He was premature, as it happened, for the resources 
 of his art were not yet fully equal to such undertakings 
 as he proposed ; but at least he succeeded in dispelling 
 a good deal of apathy, and in persuading people that real 
 dramatic music was a possibility. 
 
 He himself received his operatic education in the school 
 of Italian opera, and wrote a good many operas on the 
 usual lines, which had good and characteristic music in 
 them, but did not make any great impression on the world 
 in general. The conviction that reforms were necessary 
 was forced upon him by degrees ; and he was encouraged 
 by the similar views held by prominent people who were 
 connected with operatic matters, such as the famous lib- 
 rettist, Metastasio, himself. He made several isolated 
 attempts at re-establishing the lost element of dramatic 
 effect in opera from 1762 onwards. In 1767 Alceste was 
 brought out in Vienna ; and to the published edition he 
 appended a preface, which so well expressed his view of 
 the situation that a few of its sentences must necessarily 
 be quoted. He proclaimed his object to be "to avoid all 
 those abuses which had crept into Italian opera through 
 the mistaken vanity of singers and the unwise compliance 
 of composers," and proceeded : — 
 
 " I endeavoured to restrict the music to its proper func- 
 tion, that of seconding the poetry by enforcing the expres- 
 sion of the sentiment and the interest of the situations, 
 without interrupting the action or weakening it by 
 
238 MUSIC. 
 
 superfluous ornament. ... I liuve been very careful never 
 to interru^Dt a singer in the heat of the dialogue in order 
 to introduce a tedious ritornelle, nor to stop him in the 
 middle of a word for the purpose of displaying the flexi- 
 bility of his voice on some favourable vowel. ... I have 
 not thought it right to hurry through the second part of a 
 song if the words happened to be the most important of 
 the whole in order to repeat the first part four times over ; 
 or to finish the air where the sense does not end in order 
 to allow the singer to exhibit his power of varying the 
 jDassage at pleasure. 
 
 "My idea was that the Sinfonia ought to indicate the 
 subject, and prepare the spectators for the character of 
 the piece they are about to see ; that the instruments 
 ought to be introduced in proportion to the degree of 
 interest and passion in the words ; and that it was neces- 
 sary above all to avoid making too great a disparity 
 between the recitative and the air in the dialogue, so as 
 not to break the sense of a period or awkwardly interrupt 
 the movement and animation of a scene," &c. 
 
 The Viennese were not so much moved by these con- 
 siderations, or by his practical exposition in the shape of 
 opera, as he had naturally hoped ; and ultimately he had 
 to transfer the scene of action to Paris, where conditions 
 were on the whole likely to be more favourable. The 
 French in their national opera had always managed to 
 keep the dramatic side of things more steadily in view 
 than the Italians. Lulli had established the type before 
 described, and his operas lield the stage, to the exclusion 
 of nearly all others, for some time after he had departed 
 out of the world. Ultimately Rameau, one of the greatest 
 of all French composers, improved very materially upon 
 Lulli's work by a better handling of his instrumental re- 
 sources, more lightness and variety and geniality in the 
 music, and a better artistic standard of work all round, lie 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA. 239 
 
 was a man of mnsically sincere character, with more grasp 
 of harmonic expression than is usual with Frenchmen, 
 and with far more genuinely dramatic perception of the 
 theatrical kind than any other man of his time — for it is 
 noteworthy that he was born two years before Handel. It 
 is highly probable that he had considerable influence upon 
 Gluck; for that composer passed through Paris in 1746, 
 and heard and was impressed by Eameau's work, which 
 was so conspicuously different from the average Italian 
 23roduct to which he was accustomed. And though Gluck's 
 own work went ultimately far beyond Rameau's in every 
 respect, whether artistic or expressive, there is a touch 
 of the spirit of Eameau even in his mature and most 
 characteristic works. 
 
 Paris then was the most hopeful place for him to get 
 his views on dramatic matters attended to ; and though 
 it is obvious that the real evils which he attacked were 
 in the Italian form of opera, and that the natural form of 
 French opera was not so amenable to his criticisms, yet 
 it was better to promulgate them in a place where peoj^le 
 might pay a little attention than to address the worse 
 than deafness of indifference. 
 
 The summary of his Parisian campaign is that he 
 began by enlisting able literary men on his side, and 
 rousing public curiosity by getting his theories discussed. 
 He then brought out the first practical illustration of his 
 theories in a version of Racine's "Iphig^nie en Aulide" in 
 1 774 ; and followed it up with a revised version of his 
 earlier Orfeo under the name of " Orphee et Eurydice," 
 and a revised version of Alceste in 1776, and Arraide 
 in 1777. After this a very estimable Italian composer, 
 Piccini, \Yas brought over from Italy by Gluck's opponents 
 in the hopes of defeating him in a practical contest; 
 and for a while the fervours of the rival partisans divided 
 Paris. Gluck brought out his final manifesto, "Iphigcnie 
 
240 MUSIC. 
 
 en Tauride," in 1781, with great success. Piccini's 
 setting of the same subject was acknowledged to be 
 inferior, and the Gluckists remained masters of the field. 
 
 The point which is of highest importance in Gluck's 
 victory, as far as the development of the art is concerned, 
 is the restoration of the element of genuine expression 
 to its place in the scheme of art. Gluck, like every one 
 else, was forced to accept the work of his predecessors 
 as the basis of his own, and even to retain some of the 
 most conspicuous features of the scheme which he aimed 
 at destroying. He had to write arias on the old lines, 
 for they were the only definite types of design then 
 understood ; and Gluck was far too wise to think he 
 could dispense with definite design. He had also to 
 accept the ballet, for it was too vital a part of the 
 French operatic scheme to be discarded without almost 
 certainty of failure. But, in the case of the arias, he did 
 his best to make them as characteristic of the situations 
 as the backward state of the art allowed ; and he often 
 replaced them by short movements of very complete 
 and simple form — more like the type of folk-songs — into 
 which he concentrated a great deal of genuine expression. 
 For the ballets he had the justification of the ancients ; 
 and he undoubtedly applied them in many cases extremely 
 well. Wherever it was possible they were made part 
 of the action, and became a very effective part of it. 
 As, for instance, the dance and chorus of furies at the 
 threshold of the infernal regions in Orfeo, and the chorus 
 and ballets of Scythians in "Iphigenie en Tauride." For 
 his treatment of recitative he had the earlier examples 
 of Lulli and Eameau, who both adopted a free style of 
 expressive declamation with definite accompanimeut ; often 
 with very successful results. Since their time music had 
 very much enlarged its resources of expression and had 
 become more elastic ; and Gluck, while working on the same 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA. 241 
 
 lines, arrived at far more refined and finished results. 
 Moreover, the expressive qualities of his admirable recita- 
 tives are very much enhanced by his way of dealing with 
 the accompaniment. He neglected no opportunity to make 
 use of the qualities of his orchestral instruments — as far 
 as in him lay — to enforce and accentuate the situations, 
 and even to intensify the passing moment of feeling im- 
 plied by the dialogue. Composers were beginning to 
 develop a little sense of the effects of instrumentation. 
 Even Gluck's rival, Piccini, made some very appropriate 
 effects by using his instruments consistently with the 
 spirit of the situations. But Gluck applied himself to 
 the matter with far more intensity, and far more genuine 
 perception of the characters of the instruments. Indeed 
 it would hardly be an exaggeration to say that he was 
 the first composer in the world who had any genuine 
 understanding of this very modern phase of the art. 
 Mozart was the first to show real natural gift and genuine 
 feeling for beautiful disposition of tone, but Gluck anti- 
 cipated modern procedure in adapting his colours exactly to 
 the mood of the situation. A good deal had been attempted 
 already in a sort of half-hearted and formal manner, but 
 he was the first to seize firmly on the right principles and 
 to carry out his objects with any mastery of resources. 
 
 The texture of his work is such as might be ex- 
 pected from his training. He has very little feeling 
 for polyphony, or for the effects which are produced 
 by those kinds of chords which become possible only 
 through the independent treatment of parts. In this 
 respect he was the very opposite of Bach. His early 
 experience of choral writing was in a bad school ; and 
 his choruses, except when animated by some powerful 
 dramatic impulse, are flat and badly managed, both for 
 vocal tone and general effect. But his orchestration is 
 as much more mature than Bach's and Handel's as his 
 
242 MUSIC. 
 
 choral writing is inferior. There is no attempt to treat 
 his instruments like voices or counterpoints, nor to use 
 them solely because artistic effect, apart from dramatic 
 effect, makes it advisable. The treatment is in every 
 respect harmonic, not contrapuntal ; and his harmonies 
 are extremely simple and limited in range. But he 
 uses them with such an excellent sense of proportion 
 that the general result is, even harmonically, more im- 
 pressive than the work of modern composers who have 
 a more copious supply to draw from, but less discretion 
 and discrimination. It may be confessed that in his 
 efforts to infuse expression into every possible moment 
 he very much overdoes the use of appogiaturas, till the 
 device becomes a sort of pointless mannerism; but the 
 greatness of his genius is emphasised by the fact that 
 he contrived to attain a very high pitch of genuine ex- 
 pression, and to sustain the general musical character of 
 whole works in conformity with the nature of the subjects 
 at a time when the resources of expression, especially in 
 the dramatic line, were very limited. It must be remem- 
 bered that the development of modern instrumental forms 
 of art had only just begun. It so happened that the first 
 of Mozart's symphonies which is really notable from the 
 point of view of style and design was first performed in 
 Paris in the middle of the war of the Gluckists and 
 Piccinists. But no great symphony had been written 
 before, and when Gluck was formulating his theories and 
 speculating on the possibilities of musical expression, the 
 art of modern instrumentation was still iu its infancy. 
 Naturally Gluck's management of general effect is not 
 like Mozart's. His powers as a composer were developed 
 mainly under the influence of his strong feeling for things 
 dramatic and poetical, and it was the intensity with which 
 he felt the situations which gave him musical utterance. 
 His orchestration has none of the roundness or balance or 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA. 243 
 
 maturity of Mozart's. It is unequal and uncertain, and 
 requires humouring in performance to make it produce 
 the effect ^yhich is intended. But, like the rest of his 
 work, it is essentially sincere, and its very crudity is 
 sometimes apt to the situations that he required it to 
 illustrate. 
 
 His influence upon tlie history of art in certain direc- 
 tions was great, but not such as might be expected. 
 Upon Italian opera seria he had scarcely any influence 
 at all. It went on its absurdly illogical and undramatic 
 way unmoved. The kind of people who patronised it did 
 not want anything good ; they only wanted to be amused. 
 Italian comjoosers were not troubled with convictions as 
 Gluck was, and they have too often liked bad music quite 
 as much as their audiences. Upon French ojDera the 
 influence of Gluck was more permanent ; and his schemes 
 were developed by later composers to grandiose proportions, 
 sometimes with excellent results, sometimes with an unfor- 
 tunate tendency to emj^hasise histrionic display, which 
 certainly does not chime with Gluck's refined intentions. 
 
 His system was too ideal for the world of his time, and 
 the niche which he occupies is singularly isolated, through 
 the inadequacy of musical means to meet his require- 
 ments. His singular energy and clearness of dramatic 
 insight forced a special path for himself out of the direct 
 course of musical progress. It was as though he pushed 
 for himself a special short cut up a very arduous ascent 
 where other men could not follow him. And it was not 
 until music in general had gone by a more circuitous route, 
 which avoided the rocks and precipices, that it finally 
 arrived at a position which made his ideals attainable. No 
 one in his time could pursue the path he had marked out, 
 for no one but himself had sufficient mastery of dramatic 
 expression even to equal his work in that respect, much 
 less to improve upon it. 
 
244 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 Though the genuine opera seria of the Italians was 
 not destined to be lifted out of the ruts into which it 
 had fallen for a long while, the scheme which their com- 
 posers had inaugurated served as the basis upon which 
 composers of the more enduring Teutonic race gradually 
 developed the resources necessary for the achievement 
 of the operatic ideal. Germans had been for some time 
 dominated by Italian influences in every department of art 
 as badly as the Italians themselves ; and when Mozart 
 came upon the scene, it is probable that he heard next 
 to nothing in his earlier years which was Teutonic either 
 in style or in name. Italian music reigned supreme in 
 Vienna and Salzburg ; and throughout his most impres- 
 sionable years he constantly imbibed the phraseology, 
 the principles of design, and the artistic methods of 
 Italian comjDosers and their German imitators. He was 
 no reformer by nature, and the immense services he did 
 to art were in no sense either sj)eculative or theoretic, 
 but merely a sort of natural growth ; amounting to a 
 
 I general improvement of the texture of things rather 
 than to a marked change either in principles or details. 
 
 I He was gifted with an extraordinarily keen sense of 
 beauty, and with the most astounding natural facility 
 in all things artistic which ever was the lot of man. 
 The inevitable consequence was that he began to see how 
 
 i to improve upon the work of his predecessors in every 
 direction very early; and he was afforded ample oppor- 
 
 , tunities. 
 
 Before he was ten years old he had made a triumphal 
 progress through the most important cities in Europe, 
 and had tried his hand at most of the branches of com- 
 position ; and by the age of twelve he was writing operas 
 for the Italians themselves, and had surpassed most living 
 composers in all departments of artistic workmanship. 
 All his earlier operas were on the usual Italian lines; and 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA 245 
 
 though they show his unusual powers in finished model- 
 ling of melody, and skilful management of accompani- 
 ment, they do not need any special consideration. The 
 first really important mark he made was an indirect 
 result of his visit to Mannheim on the way to Paris in 
 1777. The town was, and had been for some time, the 
 centre of the best musical activity in Germany ; and it was 
 here that Mozart first heard refined and careful orchestral 
 playing, and came into contact with patriotic schemes 
 for developing national art and national opera. The 
 experiences he enjoyed during a rather prolonged stay 
 thoroughly roused him to give his full attention to the 
 possibilities of orchestral effect ; and the enthusiasm for 
 thoroughness in all departments of art, which possessed 
 the people of Mannheim, undoubtedly led him to treat 
 the operatic form of art with more consideration for fitness 
 and dramatic effect, than it would have occurred to him to 
 do if he had remained entirely under Italian or Viennese 
 influence. The first important fruit in the line of opera 
 was Idomeneo, which he produced three years later (178 1) 
 for the Carnival in Munich, where he had every induce- 
 ment to distinguish himself; as the taste of the public 
 was better there than in Vienna, and the resources of the 
 orchestra and chorus were very large. His libretto was 
 modelled on an old Italian one which had been used nearly 
 seventy years before ; but this did not affect the quality of 
 his work, which is so very much richer and better than any 
 earlier opera of its class that it marks a point in the story 
 of the art. To begin with, he used an unusually large 
 orchestra, and he used it in a way which was quite new to 
 the world. He did not aim at characterisation so much as 
 Gluck had done, for in that respect Gluck was speculatively 
 too much ahead of his time. But his method shows far 
 more spontaneous skill, through his keen feeling for beauty 
 and variety of tone, and his perfect use of each several iu- 
 
246 MUSIC. 
 
 strument in tlie way best suited to its special idiosyncrasies. 
 Nothing is wasted. No player of a wind instrument merely 
 blows into bis pipe to make a sound to fill np a gaj), nor 
 do the violin players now and then merely draw out an 
 isolated sound to make a chord complete. Everything is 
 articulate, finished, full of life ; and that without adopting a 
 contrapuntal manner, or obtrusively putting in figures that 
 are not wanted and merely distract the attention. Mozart 
 at this early stage shows himself a completely mature 
 master of all the practical resources of orchestration ; and 
 in almost every department and every aspect of the work 
 a like fine artistic sense is shown. The early composers 
 had to concentrate their attention and almost all their skill 
 on the solo singer's voice part, and the care which they 
 bestowed on the rest of their work was mainly to keep 
 it in the background. Mozart's spontaneous instinct for 
 artistic fitness brought things to their proper level, and 
 simultaneously raised the standard of interest in every 
 respect. Even in the matter of singing and acting the 
 soloist has to share the honours with the chorus ; which is 
 now brought forward not only to give the requisite mass 
 of tone and scenic animation to the ends of acts, but 
 to take an important part in the action throughout. 
 The chorus becomes a living portion of the scheme, and 
 is wielded by the composer in a way which shows that he 
 tried to feel what real people would do in the situations in 
 which he had to put them, and not what mere theatrical 
 chorus singers would be doing among the wings and 
 stage properties. The same story repeats itself again and 
 again. When any scheme like the presentation of a 
 stage play has been contrived, and there arises a large 
 demand for new works, men who supply them get into 
 the habit of thinking of nothing but the artifices of the 
 stage. They put the machinery in motion, and all they 
 succeed in presenting is a property shipwreck, or a stage 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA. 247 
 
 murder, or the passion o£ a prima donua in full sight of 
 an audience. Mozart showed a superiority to that weak- 
 ness of the imagination, most notably in his comic scenes 
 in the later operas. But it is easy to see that in Idomeneo 
 too he tried to keep in mind the reality of the human 
 circumstances of which the stage machinery is but the 
 symbol. Mozart never trespassed through laying too much 
 stress on expression. It was necessarily quite the reverse, 
 for he belonged to a formal period, when the machinery 
 of art claimed a great deal of attention. But within the 
 limits of formality he often succeeded in infusing true and 
 sincere human expression, and he used his resources of 
 colour, rhythm, and melody with perfect relevancy to the 
 situations. In those respects the distance between his 
 work and that of the Italians is really enormous. But 
 there are still a great deal too many of those formalities 
 which are inevitably brought in to hide the gaps made by 
 unsolved problems. The arias are too rigid in form, and 
 the various complete pieces are crudely introduced. The 
 divisions do not assimilate into a well-moulded whole, 
 but are separate items, like the old singers' arias, though 
 so immensely superior to them in intrinsic qualities, and 
 so much more varied in general character. And, moreover, 
 a great deal of the dialogue is set in the insupportable 
 makeshift manner of the middle-period Italian recitative ; 
 which makes an almost insuperable blot in any serious 
 work in which it occurs. It passes muster in comic works, 
 because it can be accepted together with other confessions 
 of human weakness as conceivably humorous. But in a 
 work of serious interest it breaks the continuity of things 
 worse than even ordinary speech does ; for its chaotic 
 inanity is such a perversion of the purpose of music that 
 it becomes far more noticeable than dialogue, which pre- 
 tends to be nothing more than it is. 
 
 Apart from these recitatives, Mozart probably carried 
 
248 MUSIC. 
 
 expression as far as was then possible within the limits 
 by which he was bound. His instinct for design was too 
 true to allow him to venture upon untried methods which 
 fitted more closely to the dialogue and to the progress 
 of the action. He had to repeat his passages, and to take 
 his "tonic and dominant" quite regularly according to 
 the laws of form as then understood, and to write set 
 melodies on familiar lines. He had hardly any experience 
 of methods of immediate concentrated expression, such as 
 Bach's mastery of harmony and counterpoint enabled him 
 to use. And even if he had known how to achieve such 
 things the types of procedure would not have fitted into 
 his scheme of art; for they would have betrayed their 
 incongruity, and thrown the balance of style out of gear. 
 Art had to go a long way before such amalgamation was 
 possible. Even Mozart himself was as yet far from the 
 standard of his greatest symphonies ; and, far as Idomeneo 
 is beyond the standard of any previous Italian operas, and 
 interesting and rich in artistic power and resource, its 
 formality and inadequacy as a solution of the operatic 
 problem is indicated by the fact that it is almost totally 
 unknown to the musical public. 
 
 The national desire for genuine Teutonic opera was 
 spreading and growing more eager in Mozart's time ; and 
 the Emperor of Austria took up the cause, and invited 
 him to write a regular German opera. The principal 
 obstacle was that a national opera, like anything else 
 in art, had to be built up by slow degrees ; and there 
 was a conspicuous lack of models for style and plan, 
 and treatment of things dramatic in a German manner. 
 Keiser's attempts lay too far away in the past, and were 
 too crude to have much bearing in Mozart's time ; and 
 the only form which had succeeded at all in later times 
 was the Singspiel, which was little more than a play 
 with incidental music and songs, very similar to the type 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA. 249 
 
 in vogue in England about Purcell's time. These plays 
 had generally been very slight, and sometimes farcical, so 
 there was very little in them to serve as a basis for work 
 of a solid kind. But such as it was, Mozart accepted 
 the form as the type to follow in his " Entfiihrung aus 
 dem Serail." In the event very little came of it that was 
 characteristically Teutonic. The music itself is admir- 
 able, and every artistic accessory and detail is managed 
 as only Mozart could manage such things at that time. 
 But the light scenes were in the Italian buffo style, and 
 the harmonisation and instrumentation and everything else 
 are in the style Mozart usually employed in Italian opera. 
 Every one who understands anything about art will 
 know that this was inevitable ; for a man can only work 
 on the lines and in the terms he is master of. The most 
 that Mozart could do was to impart a more genuinely 
 warm and expressive feeling to a few of the airs, and 
 in no other respect is any Teutonic flavour discernible. 
 Mozart for the moment elevated the form of the Sing- 
 spiel into the regions of loftiest art; but that was not 
 what a Singspiel audience wanted, and his work was 
 not characteristically Teutonic enough, either in subject 
 or style, to enlist the national sympathies ; and though 
 on the whole it succeeded very well, its success was on 
 the old grounds, and not on the grounds of its being 
 a satisfactory or complete solution of the problem of 
 national opera. Further action in the same direction 
 was postponed, and Mozart resumed the composition of 
 Italian operas. His next effort was the brilliant Nozze 
 di Figaro, founded on Beaumarchais' play. It came out 
 in 1786, and Don Giovanni followed in 1787. These are 
 not on such a grand scale as Idomeneo, but they have 
 the superior attraction of a great deal of real fun, which 
 is essentially a human element. The stories of both 
 Figaro and Don Giovanni are rather trivial and quite 
 
2 50 MUSIC. 
 
 unfit to be taken seriously, but it is easy to follow and 
 to be amused by all the escapades and scrapes of the Don 
 and Leporello, and by Figaro and Cherubino and the 
 rest of the merry throng. They are just as much reali- 
 ties as Mozart's merry tunes ; and the necessary stage 
 conventions do not jar so noticeably as they would do if 
 the works had often touched upon deeper chords, and 
 portrayed stronger and more vital emotions. It is just 
 in those situations where, owing to the nature of his story, 
 he has to touch on the tragic vein, that the formality 
 necessarily becomes prominent. Real tragic intensity of 
 feeling would be quite out of place in such surroundings ; 
 and such sorrows as Elvii'a's are not in any case capable 
 of being adequately expressed in the old-fashioned form 
 of the aria, with its complacent orderly melody, and 
 mechanical repetition of the same words of sorrow. It 
 is in such cases that the utter inadequacy of the old 
 operatic scheme becomes too conspicuously glaring. 
 
 The process of development in the right direction is 
 shown by the way in which Mozart often knits together 
 a number of movements into a continuous series, especi- 
 ally at the end of an act. This was the way in which 
 complete assimilation of the musical factors into a com- 
 posite whole was gradually approached. In some cases, 
 as in the finales in Figaro, he contrives to make the inter- 
 change of dialogue between the characters very rapid for 
 a long time at a stretch, producing an extremely ani- 
 mated effect. But it illustrates the immaturity of the 
 operatic form that he still felt it necessary to repeat 
 his musical phrases again and again to make them lay 
 hold of the minds of the audience. The lightness of 
 the subjects he dealt with necessitated his carrying out 
 every feature of his scheme very simply and spontaneously, 
 and this device of phrase repetition he used without the 
 least disguise. He probably borrowed it from the Italian 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA. 251 
 
 composers of opera buffa, and it became so mncli a part 
 of his system that he employs it in every class of work, 
 in symphonies and sonatas as well as in operas. The 
 result is that the works become very easy to follow; 
 but the practice cannot be said to be a characteristic of 
 an advanced state of art. Mozart undoubtedly brought 
 his music into very close connection with the action, 
 especially in comic scenes. It sometimes fits so jDerfectly 
 that it seems as thoiigh he had the whole scene before 
 him, and followed all the by-play and gestures in his 
 mind while writing. This also was probably a develop- 
 ment of the methods of the composers of opera buffa. 
 
 Of Mozart's two last Italian operas little need be said. 
 " Cosi fan tutte " is a comic opera which was written 
 by order of the Emperor of Austria to an unsatisfactory 
 libretto, which made the success, which the real bright- 
 ness of the music might have otherwise obtained, com- 
 pletely impossible. La Clemenza di Tito was an opera 
 seria of the old kind written for a coronation at Prague 
 to an old libretto by Metastasio, which had been set by 
 most of the earlier stock composers before it came to 
 Mozart's turn, and did not contain any elements whicli 
 could inspire him to fresh achievements. 
 
 His last operatic work was far more important, for 
 once again it made him the representative of the German 
 aspiration to have a national opera. On the previous occa- 
 sion the experiment had been made under the auspices of 
 the Austrian Emperor and his court; the new one was 
 made for an essentially popular audience. The invitation 
 came from the actor-manager Schikaneder, who had been 
 catering for the Viennese public for some time with fair 
 success. He conceived the idea that the German public 
 would be attracted by a magic opera; and to judge 
 from the sui'prising number of magic operas which have 
 since appeared in Germany, he gauged the Teutonic 
 
252 MUSIC. 
 
 disposition in that respect very acutely. The play, which 
 Schikaneder himself prepared and called "Die Zauber- 
 flote," is almost unintelligible ; but it contained some 
 good opportunities for musical effect, and as the in- 
 terest of the play was supposed to centre round some 
 mystic secrets of Freemasonry, which at that time were 
 especially interesting to the German mind, it was not 
 altogether inaijpropriate that it should be unintelligible 
 to the general and the feminine public. Mozart's setting 
 was again mainly Italian in style, but he infused a degree 
 of dignified and noble sentiment into certain parts of 
 the work which was quite unlike what was to be met 
 with in Italian operas ; and in the end, between his 
 music and the mystery of the play, the work became a 
 spontaneous success of a pronounced description, and 
 was taken up very eagerly all over Germany. 
 
 It can hardly be said, however, that it quite satisfied 
 the aspirations after a national opera, but it was decidedly 
 a step of some importance in that direction. The actual 
 solution of the problem depended on conditions which at 
 that time were unattainable, for the national style for 
 operatic purposes had yet to be found. What little there 
 was of distinctly Teutonic style had not been applied in 
 such a manner ; neither had the accessories, such as the 
 appropriate type of harmonisation and of accom|)ani- 
 ment, been cultivated sufficiently to be available on such 
 a large scale as opera. German melodic ideas would not 
 fit to the conventional types of harmonic accompani- 
 ment used for Italian melody, any more than a Gothic 
 roof and steeple would fit on to an Ionic building. 
 The racial musical instincts of Teutons and Italians 
 were different. The instinct of Italians was all in 
 favour of beauty and simplicity. They cared little for 
 intensely vivid expression of any kind, and their most 
 natural method of utterance was melody, and the forms 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA. 253 
 
 of accompaniment which supported melody in the very 
 simplest manner. They were perfectly content to hear 
 the same formulas again and again. For instance, the 
 same formulas of harmony, and even of melody, were used 
 for the last few bars before the cadence in endless diffe- 
 rent arias and scenas ; and the same successions of chords 
 served for the song of the lady bewailing her murdered 
 father and for that of the gentleman rejoicing over the 
 success of a love suit. The bent of Germans, on the 
 other hand, was not so much towards beauty as towards 
 expression and character. Their very type of beauty was 
 different from that of the Italians. The Italians looked 
 for beauty of externals, and the Germans for beauty 
 of thought. The instinct for beauty of thought comes 
 out analogously in their artists' work. To the eye there 
 is not much beauty of externals in Albert Durer and 
 Holbein, but of expression and thought there is ample 
 to engage the mind and the sensibilities again and again. 
 So it was in music from the earliest time, in Schiitz's 
 work as in Bach's and in Brahms'. And though melody 
 was a factor in the German scheme, characteristic har- 
 mony became one also very early. And as harmony has 
 more power of immediate expression than melody, the 
 Teutonic nature was drawn towards it more and more. 
 And as polyi^honic treatment enhances the capacity of 
 harmony for expression, and gives vitality to its inner 
 details, the Teutonic mind was also drawn in that direc- 
 tion. Polyphony is melody multiplied, and represents the 
 composite nature of man's character and man's moods 
 and motives of action in a way that mere single melody 
 can never do. The Germans having the feeling and 
 instinct for these higher things, it was clearly impos- 
 sible for their ideals of operatic art to be satisfied with 
 such immature conditions as are represented in ]\Iozart's 
 operas, admirable though the works themselves are as 
 
254 MUSIC. 
 
 representing the Italian conception of art. But though 
 Mozart, owing to his circumstances, and the state of art 
 at that time, could not satisfy the full aspirations of the 
 Germans in their own field, he raised Italian opera to its 
 highest point. His more earnest German surroundings, and 
 his experiences at Mannheim, led his impressionable dis- 
 position to the full development of his marvellous aptitude 
 for orchestration ; to a higher, richer, and more charac- 
 teristic standard of melody ; to a ^vider range of harmony, 
 and more perfect modelling and management of design, 
 than had ever been attained by Italians. In all these 
 things he eiiriched the art to an enormous extent, and 
 left it more highly organised in nearly all its various 
 dej)artments than when he took it up. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE MIDDLE STAGE OF ''SONATA" FORM. 
 
 The principles upon which self-dependent instrumental 
 music was being developed in the greater part of the 
 eighteenth century were quite new to mankind. Before 
 men developed the capacity for understanding the classifi- 
 cation of harmony in connection with certain tonal centres, 
 such principles were altogether inconceivable. But when 
 once the idea of harmonic centralisation was well estab- 
 lished, progress in readiness to grasp the artistic purpose 
 of the composer in disposing his groups of harmony so 
 as to convey the impression of design, was extraordinarily 
 rapid; as may be judged by the difference in obvious- 
 ness between a concerto of Vivaldi's and a symphony 
 of Mozart's. 
 
 It may be admitted, parenthetically, that there was a 
 considerable falling off of style in instrumental music 
 when it came more decisively under operatic influences. 
 The standard of Tartini and his fellow-violinists is much 
 higher than that of most of their successors ; who infused 
 the fashionable style of opera music into their instru- 
 mental works, to gratify the feeble taste of their fashion- 
 able pupils. But the development of the great branch 
 of instrumental music did not follow in a straight line 
 from Corelli and Tartini and such masters, but was the 
 result of a process of filtration through the minds of all 
 sorts and conditions of composers. Haydn and Mozart, 
 and Beethoven in his turn, were in their younger days 
 influenced by the flood of all sorts of music which came 
 
256 MUSIC. 
 
 under tlieir notice. And though their higher sense of 
 style and expression rejected the more trivial and super- 
 ficial things that they heard, their own work became a 
 sort of instinctive generalisation, which was based on 
 the general average of all that attracted their attention. 
 Everything has its degree and proportion in such matters, 
 but great work is always the sum of an immense range 
 of influences, and not the product of the impressions 
 produced by a few. isolated pieces of perfection. Thus 
 in painting, if a man study only the manner in which 
 some single master overcomes some special difficulty, his 
 own treatment will probably be only a reflection of that 
 master's work. But if he studies the methods of several, 
 and finds the particular excellencies of each, and grasps 
 their principles of application, he has enlarged his own 
 resources ; and then he will not merely reproduce the 
 external aspects of the works of one man, but will find 
 out how to express his own individuality in terms which 
 are the fruit of wider understanding of technique. 
 
 The special department in which the sum of all sorts 
 of experiments was leading to a satisfactory establish- 
 ment of principles, in the early part of the eighteenth 
 century, was the extremely important one of harmonic 
 design. Musical instinct was leading men to give the 
 best of their powers to the development of the types of 
 design now familiar in sonatas, and out of a multiplicity 
 of experiments Mozart and Haydn, and their lesser con- 
 temporaries, gave their verdict very decisively in favour 
 of a type of movement which looks at first most peculiar 
 and enigmatical ; but which not only proved to be most 
 elastic and satisfying in practice, but becomes amply in- 
 telligible when the course of its history is taken into 
 consideration. 
 
 The aim of composers was first to establish a point of 
 departure ; and then setting out from it to find an orderly 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF ''SONATA" FORM. 257 
 
 series of contrasts of as mauy and various kinds as the art 
 allowed, and to dispose them in such a way as to make 
 each step lead onwards, till a circuit was completed by 
 returning to and re-establishing the original starting- 
 point. The first form in which this principle of design 
 is perceptible is the type of ordinaiy dance tune, which 
 proceeded from a given point to a contrasting point, 
 and laid sufficient stress upon that point to emphasise 
 the contrast, and then worked back again. When this 
 type arrived at any degree of definite organisation, the 
 most noticeable feature was the division into two fairly 
 equal halves, with a close in the key of contrast at the 
 end of the first half. Composers aimed at distributing 
 their materials in such a framework so as to give the 
 strongest emphasis to the most essential points, and to 
 make the ideas lay hold of the mind. The requirements 
 of average human beings were best consulted by making 
 the beginning of the first half coincide in musical mate- 
 rial with the beginning of the second half, and the 
 end of the first half coincide with the end of the second 
 half ; since the beginnings and ends of phrases are always 
 most easily retained by the mind. The portions between 
 the beginnings and the endings were generally rather 
 vague and indefinite, though composers who had any 
 artistic sense tried to keep the style strictly relevant 
 throughout, and to maintain any rhythm which had pre- 
 sented itself definitely at the outset. The plan of a con- 
 siderable majority of movements remained on these lines 
 until the end of the polyphonic period of instrumental 
 music ; and the movements in the most artistic suites and 
 partitas have very little more in the way of design. 
 
 When harmonic principles came to be cultivated in 
 sonatas the same principles were adopted ; but, in accord- 
 ance with harmonic requirements, the passages which 
 coincided in musical material were lengthened, and made 
 
 £ 
 
2 58 MUSIC. 
 
 more definite, both in respect of melody and rhythm. And 
 at length the passage in the contrasting key, which had 
 originally been little more than a cadence, was expanded 
 to a length fully equal to the passage in the principal key ; 
 and it was frequently marked by a second subject or new 
 idea, which became the distinguishing feature of the key 
 of contrast. The ideas presented in the principal con- 
 trasting key were repeated in the second half of the 
 movement in positions corresponding to the arrange- 
 ment of the earlier form; the first idea coming in the 
 key of contrast, and the second in the home key. The 
 part in between the two subjects in the second half began 
 to expand very early; both to widen the scope of the 
 modulations, and because composers' instincts told them 
 that there still was a lack of contrast through the exact 
 regularity and definiteness of the main divisions. They 
 felt that a contrast to this excess of definiteness was 
 wanted, and they found it in the process of breaking 
 up the subjects into their constituent figures and dis- 
 tributing them in progressions which had an appearance 
 of being unsystematic. 
 
 By the time the movement had expanded to such pro- 
 portions, the mere restatement of the second subject at 
 the end was barely sufficient to give a comfortable re- 
 assurance of being safe home in the original key. And, 
 moreover, as the progress of music in general was tend- 
 ing to a much more decisive recognition of the musical 
 subjects and ideas themselves as the aim and end of 
 things, it seemed strange that the musical idea, which 
 occupied such prominence by reason of its appearing at 
 the outset, should be so neglected in the latter part of the 
 movement. So it became customary to repeat the first 
 subject as well as the second at the end of all things 
 in the principal key. Then it appeared that there was 
 too much of this first subject, so its formal repetition at 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF "SONATA" FORM. 259 
 
 the beginning of the second half was dropped, though it 
 still often appears in its old place even in modern works 
 of the sonata order. 
 
 The whole process of development may be seen at a glance 
 in a mechanical scheme. Taking the letters to represent 
 the musical material, and the numerals to represent the 
 principal keys, and the double bar to represent the point 
 where the movement is divided into two portions, the 
 process was mainly as follows : — 
 
 ist form . a', transition ending in b- || a-, transition ending in b'. 
 2nd form . A^ B- || A^ modulations B'. 
 3rd form . Ai B- |1 A- modulations A^ B^. 
 
 , J, ., T,., 11 modulation and ., -r,, 
 
 4th form . Ai B- 1| development ^ ^• 
 
 In the early sonatas both halves of the movement were 
 played twice. As artistic feeling developed, the repetition 
 of the second half was frequently dispensed with, but the 
 repetition of the first half was maintained, mainly to help 
 the mind to grasp firmly the principle of contrast between 
 the two keys. In modern times the repetition of the 
 first half is also commonly dispensed with, because the 
 musical instinct has become so quick to grasp any indica- 
 tion of design that it no longer requires to have such 
 things insisted on ; and also because the progress of music 
 towards a more passionately emotional phase makes it 
 noticeably anomalous to go through the same exciting 
 crises twice over. Beethoven's practice illustrates this 
 point very happily; for in the less directly emotional 
 sonatas in which design is particularly emphasised, he gives 
 the usual direction for the repetition of the first half ; as 
 in the early sonatas, when the possibility of dispensing 
 with such conventions had not dawned upon him, and in 
 
26o MUSIC. 
 
 the first movements of such later sonatas as the Waldstein 
 (Opus 53), and the one in F+f (Opus 78). In movements 
 which are so decisively emotional and expressive as the first 
 movements of the Appassionata (F minor, Opus 57), of 
 the E minor (Opus 90), of the A major (Opus loi), and 
 the E major (Opus 109), the repetition is dispensed with, 
 and the movements are made as continuous as possible 
 from end to end ; so as to hide the formal element and 
 guard against the mind being distracted by it. 
 
 The prominence which Italian operatic influence gave 
 to melody and to superficial views of art led people to 
 regard the principle of design as consisting of a first 
 tune in one key and a second tune in a contrasting 
 key, and certain developments based on them to follow 
 and complete the scheme. But in fact the musical 
 subject is one thing and the design is another. The 
 "subject," as it is called, had to have a form of its own 
 to begin with ; and though some composers, working under 
 operatic influences, did write long continuous passages of 
 melody which successively represent the principal key and 
 the key of contrast, the acuter instinct of true instrumental 
 composers generally aimed at short and incisive figures 
 for their musical ideas, which indicated the spirit and 
 mood of their work, and made it lay hold of the mind 
 quickly ; and they completed their musical sentences, 
 which represented each essential key, by repeating such 
 figures in different positions in the scale or with ingenious 
 variations of detail which gave them extra interest. The 
 necessity for making the essential keys clear led to various 
 interesting and probably unconscious devices. The trick 
 of alternating the characteristic harmonies of tonic and 
 dominant in the subject is so familiar that it requires no 
 discussion. More singular is the profusion of examples 
 of different epochs, in which the principal musical idea 
 is conveyed in terms of the tonic chord of the move- 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF ''SONATA" FORM. 261 
 
 ment, which is the essential point from which the outset 
 is made. A few example s may be noted in the following 
 works. Scarlatti's Sonata in G major — 
 
 ^^^^m 
 
 the principal allegro movement of Tartini's Sonata in 
 minor (Didone Abandonnata) — 
 
 Paradisi's Sonata in D major, Mozart's Sonata in C minor, 
 Beethoven's Sonata in F minor (No. i), the last move- 
 ment of his Sonata in C;;* minor; the first of his Sonata 
 Appassionata, his Overture Leonora (No. 3), and Weber's 
 Sonata in Ab. The instinctive object of the composer in 
 all cases is to make the whereabouts of his starting-point 
 very definitely understood. Nearly all the finest subjects 
 in existence have some such principle inherent in their 
 structure. But the subject itself is not the form, nor 
 is it itself a part of the form, but the idea which is 
 put into form. It is the musical fact of melody, or 
 rhythm, or harmony which conveys the mood or thought 
 which the composer wishes to express. The mould in 
 which it is cast is a different thing. The idea may be 
 expressed in terms of the tonic chord, but the tonic 
 chord is not the idea. On the other hand, the tonic 
 chord is a part, and a very essential part, of the scheme 
 of design ; and upon its being understood the feeling for 
 the design of the movement as a whole depends ; but the 
 chord is not an idea till it is vitalised by rhythm or melody. 
 Similarly, the design in a picture does not consist of the 
 subject, but of the way the subject is dealt with. The 
 
262 MUSIC. 
 
 design consists of the position the figures or details occupy 
 in the picture, and of the general disposition of colours 
 and lines and contours. This point requires to be empha- 
 sised, because it is not possible to understand what 
 Beethoven did for art, or the meaning of all that came 
 after his time, without realising the distinction between 
 subject and design. 
 
 As a matter of fact, there often are a great number of 
 subjects in each of the divisions which are generally- 
 spoken of as the first or the second subject ; and in the 
 most mature form of sonata movement there is almost 
 always a special third subject whose function and char- 
 acter is strongly illustrative of the harmonic principle of 
 design. The first key is always easily indicated, because 
 it comes fresh to the mind ; but the second or contrasting 
 key requires more management and more establishing, 
 because the impression of the first has to be obliterated. 
 For that reason the second principal idea is generally 
 put into very definite and clear terms of tonality, and 
 is often followed by numerous passages obviously indi- 
 cative of the key ; and finally, when the period which 
 represents the contrasting key comes to an end, the 
 wisest composers confirmed that key strongly by intro- 
 ducing a new subject of slight but often particularly 
 attractive character, which is entirely modelled upon a 
 group of chords forming a complete cadence. The func- 
 tion of this subject essentially is to call attention to the 
 particular point in the design where the di\asion represent- 
 ing the contrasting key comes to an end ; and the harmonic 
 formula on which it is founded is always peculiarly simple. 
 
 The whole scheme of this type of movement, which 
 was fairly established by the time Haydn and Mozart 
 began their work, implies the following general purposes. 
 The first part of the movement aimed at definiteness in 
 every respect — definiteness of contrast of key, definiteness 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF ''SONATA" FORM. 263 
 
 of subject, definiteness of regular balancing groups of bars 
 and rhythms, definiteness of progressions. By the time 
 this first division is over the mind has had enough of such 
 definiteness, and wants a change. The second division, 
 therefore, represents the breaking up of the subjects into 
 their constituent elements of figure and rhythm, the obli- 
 teration of the sense of regularity by grouping the bars 
 irregularly, and by moving constantly from key to key to 
 give the sense of artistic confusion, which, however, is always 
 regulated by some inner but disguised principle of order. 
 When the mind has gone through enough of the pleasing 
 sense of bewilderment — the sense that has made riddles 
 attractive to the human creature from time immemorial — 
 the scheme is completed by resuming the orderly methods 
 of the first division, and firmly re-establishing the prin- 
 cipal key, which has been carefully avoided since the 
 commencement. 
 
 From the point of view of design every moment and 
 every step from beginning to end should have its own 
 inherent justification and reason for existence. Each 
 concord must have its due relation to its context, each 
 discord must have its resolution, each statement its 
 counter-statement. From the point of view of the sub- 
 ject or idea every moment is made engrossing by the 
 distribution and coherent relevancy of the melodies and 
 rhythms employed, by the variety of the situations and 
 the lights in which they are placed, and by the develop- 
 ment of the climaxes which are inherent in the very 
 principle of their structure. In the most perfect move- 
 ments there should be no moment when the principle of 
 design is lost sight of, or the ideas cease to be articulate. 
 But it must be confessed that there have been only two 
 or three composers in the history of the world who have 
 had such complete hold of their resources as to produce 
 movements which are entirely perfect from end to end 
 
264 MUSIC. 
 
 from every point of view ; and even these rarest geniuses 
 sometimes nod. 
 
 The opportunities which this peculiar form has offered 
 to composers are so extraordinarily rich that it has been 
 uniformly adopted for sonatas, symphonies, overtures, 
 quartetts, and all forms of chamber music, and sometimes 
 for small lyrical pieces. The development of self-depen- 
 dent instrumental music almost centres round it, and it 
 gives special character to the long period of art stretching 
 from the second quarter of the eighteenth century till 
 the advent of Schumann and Chopin, and the expressive 
 romanticists of the latter days. It is especially the type 
 of design used for the first movements of sonatas and 
 symphonies ; as it is peculiarly suitable for the intellectual 
 and more highly organised kinds of music. It was some- 
 times used also for the emotional slow movements, but 
 it was more usual to adopt a simpler ty|3e of form in 
 them — something similar to the old type of aria, or to the 
 rondo form. And this same rondo form was also found 
 suitable for last movements, as it lends itself happily 
 to light and gay moods ; and the constant alternation of 
 definite tunes gives easy animation to the general effect. 
 As a rule, the rondo form is not very suitable to the 
 expression of a very high order of music; but the artistic 
 ingenuity of composers managed to make the form in- 
 teresting by throwing the various sections into groups, 
 and distributing the subject-matter so as to give enhanced 
 interest to the rather primitive type of structure. 
 
 By the time that Haydn and Mozart arrived upon the 
 scene this scheme of instrumental music was fairly estab- 
 lished, but it had been used by most composers before them 
 crudely, obviously, and mechanically. While the form was 
 new it was enjoyable as a novelty, and as a mere piece 
 of mechanical ingenuity, and the perverting influence 
 of the predominating operatic taste prevented composers 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF "SONATA" FORM. 265 
 
 from applying any faculties they might have possessed to 
 the improvement of the details. It was the superior artistic 
 instinct of l\Iozart and Haydn which led them to give 
 attention to such things, and to develop and organise the 
 system of design to a very high degree of perfection. 
 
 The circumstances which gave the two great composers 
 their respective bents were simple and fortunate. Though 
 both were Southern Germans and Roman Catholics in 
 religion, their circumstances and early associations were 
 widely different. Mozart being the child of a profes- 
 sional musician of considerable attainments and musical 
 culture, was surrounded by artistic conditions from his 
 babyhood ; and most of the music with which he came into 
 contact was of an artistically organised kind from the first, 
 while his studies were always wisely directed by his very 
 sensible parent. But the circumstances were not favour- 
 able to the development of personal character, and as far 
 as his art was concerned he was almost entirely relieved 
 of the individual struggle to ascertain things and make 
 up his mind about them for himself, which has such 
 important results in developing the individuality of the 
 artistic worker. Haydn, on the other hand, was the son 
 of a rustic wheelwright ; a real son of the people — whose 
 first musical influences were folk-tunes, whose experience 
 of artistic music came late, and who had, like Bach and 
 Beethoven and many others of the great ones, to work 
 out his own musical salvation. And, to emphasise the 
 difference between the two men, where Mozart had been 
 entirely subject to Italian influences from the first, and 
 found his most congenial model in such a type as John 
 Christian Bach — the Italian Bach — Haydn by good for- 
 tune or happy instinct took for his model Philip Emma- 
 nuel Bach, the only prominent composer in Europe who 
 retained any touch of the old traditions of Northern 
 Germanv, and some of the sincere and noble spirit of his 
 
266 MUSIC. 
 
 father, which spared not to Diake everything as charac- 
 teristic and full of vitality as circumstances allowed. The 
 result is that Haydn is throughout as Teutonic in spirit and 
 manner as it was possible to be in those times, and that 
 most of his work has a high degree of personal charac- 
 teristic vitality ; while Mozart, with more delicate artistic 
 perception, more sense of beauty, a much higher gift 
 of technique and more general facility, is comparatively 
 deficient in individuality, and hardly shows any trace of 
 Teutonism in style from first to last. 
 
 The careers of the two composers interlaced very pecu- 
 liarly, and at different times they exerted influence upon one 
 another. Haydn is commonly held to have exerted some 
 influence upon Mozart at first, and when the latter had pro- 
 gressed rapidly to his highest achievements and had passed 
 away his work undoubtedly influenced Haydn. Though 
 Haydn was twenty-four years older than Mozart, he did 
 not get well into his work much before the younger com- 
 poser ; for the circumstances of his life necessarily delayed 
 him. He appears to have begun writing symphonies at 
 the age of twenty-seven, in 1759, whereas Mozart began 
 at the age of eight, in 1764 ; so their musical periods really 
 coincide more nearly than the differences of their ages 
 might seem to make probable. 
 
 After the sevei-e trials of his youth, Haydn's circum- 
 stances changed, and became almost the most favourable 
 ever enjoyed by a composer. After a short engagement 
 to a Bohemian Count Morzin, for whom he wrote his 
 first symphony, he was engaged for many years as Capell- 
 meister by successive princes of the wealthy and ardently 
 musical family of Esterhazy. In their establishment he 
 not only had every encouragement to write the best music 
 he could in every form suitable to instrumental effect, but 
 he also had a complete band always ready to play new 
 symphonies whenever wanted, and an opera-house and 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF ''SONATA" FORM. 267 
 
 an opera company for which he might (and did) write 
 operas. Such favourable circumstances account for the 
 wonderful number of symphonies which he wrote. But 
 it is more to the pui-pose to note the wonderful growth 
 of his musical powers, and even of the standard of his 
 ideas from youth onwards. His progress is a little 
 epitome of the history of musical evolution. His early 
 quartetts were of the slightest description ; short, unde- 
 veloped, and not very interesting in detail. His sym- 
 phonies were exactly of the standard adopted by the average 
 composer of such things all over the musical world ; and 
 not notably better in the matter of scoring than John 
 Christian Bach's. There is character and force in them, 
 but the management of the orchestral resources is stiff, 
 and the treatment of the wind instruments mechanical. 
 His development was quite gradual, and he did not arrive 
 at anything particularly notable till after Mozart had 
 achieved his greatest work, and had become in his turn 
 the older man's leader. 
 
 Mozart, as above indicated, began writing symphonies 
 as well as operas at the age of eight, and some of his early 
 work is skilful, neat, and artistic. But it was not till 
 after his experiences at Mannheim in 1777 and 1778, so 
 often alluded to, that his full powers in the line of instru- 
 mental music were called into play. The musical tradi- 
 tions at Mannheim were at that time probably the best in 
 Europe, and their effect upon Mozart was immediate aud 
 salutary. For when he moved on to Paris in 1778, in 
 company with some of the Mannheim instrumentalists, 
 he wrote, for performance there, the first of his symphonies 
 which occupies an important place in musical history. For 
 artistic delicacy in detail, general interest, skilful use of 
 orchestral resources, variety in quality and force of tone, 
 no symphony had ever yet appeared which in any way 
 approached to its standard. But even this by no means 
 
268 MUSIC. 
 
 represents his highest achievement in the symphonic 
 line. The symphony written for Prague in 1786 is a 
 still further advance, and throws the Parisian one into 
 the shade in every respect. The general quality of the 
 musical thoughts is finer, richer, and more interesting ; 
 while the purely orchestral effects, especially in the slow 
 movement, are among the most successful things of the 
 kind he ever achieved. And finally the three great sym- 
 phonies which he wrote in Vienna in 1788 represent his 
 highest level in idea and in every distinguished quality of 
 art he ever attained to. They are the crown of his life's 
 work ; for in them he more nearly escapes the traditional 
 formulas of the Italian opera than in any other form of 
 instrumental art he employed except the quartetts ; and 
 their general standard is nobler and more genuinely 
 vigorous than that of any other of his works except 
 the Requiem. In management of orchestral effect these 
 latter symphonies must have been a revelation compared 
 with the standard of the works of his contemporaries and 
 predecessors. His treatment of design had also become 
 much more free and interesting. The introduction of 
 short subtle excursions out of his principal keys in unex- 
 ■pected directions; the variations introduced into his subjects 
 on repetition, by altering the scoring and the actual melodic 
 and harmonic details, and many other devices which infuse 
 new interest into the obviousness of familiar procedure, 
 show a much greater concentration of artistic faculty than 
 had been usual with him. The general treatment is har- 
 monic, but of more expressive character than in his operas ; 
 and though the designs are often helped out by conven- 
 tional formulas which were the common property of all 
 composers in those days, the general mastery of design is 
 almost perfect. Haydn commonly receives the credit of 
 establishing the symphony form on a secure basis; and 
 no doubt he did a great deal for it. But the first 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF ''SONATA" FORM. 269 
 
 symphouies which appeared in the world which still justly 
 keep a hold on the affections of average musical people, 
 as well as highly educated musicians, are those of Mozart. 
 Next in importance after his symphonies come his quartetts. 
 In this form Haydn again was the pioneer, but it fell to 
 Mozart to produce the first really great and perfect 
 examples. This most refined and delicate form of art 
 had come into prominence rather suddenly. It was cul- 
 tivated with some success by other composers besides 
 Mozart and Haydn, such as Boccherini and Dittersdorf. 
 But the quartetts which Mozart produced in 1782 and de- 
 dicated to Haydn are still among the select few of highest 
 value in existence. In a form in which the actual possibili- 
 ties are so limited, and in which the responsibilities towards 
 each individual solo instrument are so great, where the 
 handling requires to be so delicate and so neatly adjusted 
 in every detail, Mozart's artistic skill stood him in good 
 stead. The great difficulty was the exact ascertainment 
 of the style of treatment best suited to the group of four 
 solo instruments. It was easy to write contrapuntal 
 movements of the old kind for them, but in the new 
 harmonic style and in form of a sonata order it was 
 extremely difficult to adjust the balance between one 
 instrument and another, so that subordination should 
 not subside into blank dulness, nor independence of inner 
 parts become obtrusive. Mozart among his many gifts 
 had a great sense of fitness, and he adapted himself com- 
 pletely to the necessities of the situation ; without adopting 
 a polyphonic manner, and without sacrificing the inde- 
 pendence of his instruments. 
 
 Instrumental music was at this time branching out into 
 so many forms that it is not possible to follow his treat- 
 ment of all kinds of different work. The least important 
 are his pianoforte works, such as sonatas and variations, 
 most of which were evidently written without his putting 
 
270 MUSIC. 
 
 his heart into them, probably for amateur pupils. There 
 are, of course, very important exceptions, and some in- 
 teresting experiments which clearly indicate a genuinely 
 earnest humour, such as the two remarkable fantasias in 
 C minor. 
 
 Haydn in his turn, without being dependent on Mozart 
 or coi^ying his manner, only came to his finest achieve- 
 ments after Mozart's career was over. Then in the 
 year 1791 began the wonderful series of symphonies 
 which he wrote at the invitation of the violinist and 
 concert-manager Salomon for performance in London. 
 These are as much the crown of his fame as the Prague 
 and Vienna symphonies are of Mozart's. The crudity of 
 his earlier orchestral writing has entirely disappeared; 
 and though he never succeeds in getting such a perfectly 
 mellow equal tone as Mozart's, he treats all his instru- 
 ments with absolute freedom and fitness. The old traditions 
 sometimes peep out again in rather long solos for wind 
 instruments, and long passages for small groups of instru- 
 ments in contrast to the " tuttis; " but everything is highly 
 characteristic, clear, definite, and mature. On the whole, 
 the treatment inclines to be a little more polyjDhonic than 
 Mozart's ; which accounts for the sound of the instru- 
 ments not assimilating in the mass of tone quite so 
 well. It was more natural for Mozart to think of the har- 
 monies which supported the melodies in terms of neatly 
 contrived figures of accompaniment, where Haydn, with 
 Teutonic impulse, would incline to think of his mass of 
 tone as divided into various melodic lines. But the shades 
 of difference are so delicate, and each composer is so far 
 alternately harmonic and contrapuntal in turn, that it 
 would be unwise to lay too much stress on this point. 
 IMozart achieves a degree of beauty in his slow move- 
 ments to which Haydn does not attain ; but in the solid 
 allegros Haydn is more genuinely vigorous than Mozart. 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF ''SONATA" FORM. 271 
 
 In the minuet movements — which form an important 
 addition to their scheme — it is difficult to award the palm. 
 Mozart's are certainly the most popular, but Haydn's 
 dance tunes have some of the ring that comes of his 
 lineage ; which indeed is apparent through almost all his 
 work. Even to the last there is a flavour of rusticity 
 about it. His humour and his merriment are those of 
 the simple honest peasant, while Mozart's is the wit of 
 a man of the world. 
 
 The crisis which Mozart and Haydn represent is so 
 important that the nature of musical advance made by 
 them in the instrumental line may here be fitly summed 
 up. Before their time, the only two branches in which 
 first-rate and mature work of the harmonic kind had 
 been done were the violin sonatas written chiefly by the 
 great Italian violinists and their pupils in other coun- 
 tries, and the clavier sonatas. The scope of movements 
 was small and without much development ; and the ideas 
 even in the best examples were rather indefinite. By 
 the end of their time instrumental art had branched 
 out into a very large number of distinct and complete 
 forms ; such as symphonies, concertos, quartetts, trios, 
 and sonatas for violin and clavier. The style appro- 
 priate to each had been more or less ascertained, and 
 the schemes of design had been perfectly organised 
 for all self-dependent instrumental music. Both Haydn 
 and Mozart had immensely improved in the power of 
 finding characteristic subjects, and in deciding the type 
 of subject which is best fitted for instrumental music. 
 The difference in that respect between their early and 
 later works is very marked. They improved the range of 
 the symphonic cycle of movements by adding the minuet 
 and trio to the old group of three movements ; thereby 
 introducing definite and undisguised dance movements 
 to follow and contrast with the central cantabile slow 
 
272 MUSIC. 
 
 movement. Between them they had completely trans- 
 formed the treatment of the orchestra. They not only 
 enlarged it and gave it greater capacity of tone and 
 variety, but they also laid the solid foundations of those 
 methods of art which have become the most characteristic 
 and powerful features in the system of modern music. 
 Even in detail the character of music is altered; all 
 phraseology is made articulate and definite; and the 
 minutiae which lend themselves to refined and artistic 
 performance are carefully considered, without in any way 
 diminishing the breadth and freedom of the general 
 effect. There is hardly any branch or department of art 
 which does not seem to have been brought to high 
 technical j^erfection by them ; and if the world could 
 be satisfied with the ideal of perfectly organised sim- 
 plicity, without any great force of expression, instru- 
 mental art might well have stopped at the point to which 
 they brought it. 
 
CHAPTER XI r. 
 
 THE PERFECT BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND 
 DESIGN. 
 
 The style and intrinsic qualities of music so faithfully 
 T'etiect the state of human affairs at the time in which it 
 is produced, that it becomes a sort of symbol of the spirit 
 of the world. At the end of the eighteenth century, in 
 things quite independent of art, society in general had 
 arrived at a crisis in secular affairs which inspired men 
 with a fervour of spirit analogous to the fervour of re- 
 ligious enthusiasm which had sprung up at tlie time of 
 the Keformation. In certain senses the new ardour was 
 akin to the old. For it was the same protest against 
 the conventions and formalities by which the true spirit 
 of things was hidden, and the development of man's nature 
 and aspirations checked and thwarted. The spirit of the 
 old uprising was illustrated in its highest aspect by the 
 sincerity, depth, and nobility of sentiment of J. S. Bach, 
 and by the best utterances of Handel ; and the spirit of 
 the modern uprising found its first adequate musical 
 expression in the work of Beethoven. 
 
 As has often been pointed out, a period of art in 
 which rich and powerful expression is possible must 
 necessarily be preceded by a long period in which the 
 resources of design and the methods of artistic treatment 
 are developed. Artistic matters are on no diffei^ent foot- 
 ing in that respect from the ordinary work of everyday 
 life. Inspiration without means at its disposal will no 
 more enable a man to write a symphony than to build a 
 
 273 S 
 
274 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 ship or a catlieclral. No doubt a primeval savage might 
 be inspired with feelings very much like those of some 
 modern composers ; but the means and the knowledge 
 how to express these feelings in terms of art are 
 lacking. All artistic effort which is worth anything 
 tends to enlarge such means; and the whole history of 
 the arts is mainly a continuous effort of artistically 
 minded human creatures to make the means and the 
 methods for the expression of the inner impulses richer 
 and more perfect. It is a pure accident that when the 
 means become plentiful and the methods very well under- 
 stood, many men arise who have a great gift for using these 
 means and methods without any of that personal impulse 
 of inner feeling to express themselves which is the primal 
 motive of all their labour. The mere management of 
 design is much easier than the management of expressive 
 utterance. Indeed the fact is familiar that the men who 
 have most to say that is worth saying find the greatest 
 difficulty in saying anything at all. A man who has 
 a genuine impulse to say something beyond common 
 thought has generally to enlarge the phraseology of the 
 art or language in which he speaks ; and those who cannot 
 wait for the development of the phraseology required by 
 the nature of their thoughts, must inevitably remain at 
 least partially unintelligible to their fellow-creatures. 
 
 In music the case is very clearly illustrated by the 
 results of the many attempts to achieve ideal expression 
 before the means were adequate. Human nature is liable 
 to be impatient of the slow development of resources, and 
 often breaks out into resentment at having to wait so 
 many centuries for the consummation of obvious aims. 
 Monteverde, Purcell, and Gluck are types of those eager 
 spirits who are impatient of the slow march of things, 
 and want to find a short cut to their artistic ideals — 
 just as impatient political enthusiasts long to establish a 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN. 275 
 
 milleiiinum before they have organised their human beings 
 into a fit state to live in it. Such ardent and genuine 
 composers as they were saw rightly that art is not an 
 end but a means, and having much more natural feeling 
 for expression than for the purely artistic side of things, 
 they tried to make sluggish time move faster, and to 
 attain their ideal artistic region without the preliminary 
 of following the long road that led there. The world 
 nevertheless owes them great thanks ; for though men may 
 be mistaken in hoping too much, progress would be even 
 slower than it is if no one were capable of heroic mistakes. 
 Gluck pointed out the danger of accepting conventions 
 as solutions of artistic problems, and he kept the vital 
 artistic questions alive. But the slow laws of develop- 
 ment had to go on all the same, and in reality it was 
 just as fortunate that Mozart was by gifts, training, 
 and circumstances a follower of the old methods, as that 
 Gluck was consumed with a passionate ardour to have 
 done with them. At that particular moment in the 
 history of art the man who was most wanted was not 
 one with a strong personality or marked individuality of 
 style and feeling, but one who could look at art mainly 
 from the artistic point of view, and with the highest 
 sense of beauty of effect devote himself to the special 
 development of technique. 
 
 Mozart, in this case, represents the type of man who 
 is contented with the average progress of things, and finds 
 no necessity to aim at anything more novel than the doing 
 of what comes to him to be done in the very best manner 
 he can. His best manner was the best of its kind, but it 
 was not final. Even without Gluck and Haydn by his side 
 the necessary preliminaries would not have been fully com- 
 plete. They did for characteristic style what he did mainly 
 for the organisation of melody, colour, and design. And 
 when those various phases of art which they represented 
 
276 MUSIC. 
 
 liad been put into practical shape, the resources of the 
 composer who was to come were enormously enlarged. 
 
 The superiority of Beethoven's point of vantage to 
 Mozart's is equal to the sum of all the differences between 
 the state of art when Mozart took up his work at the age 
 of eight, and the state at which it had arrived at the end 
 of his career. Besides the difference in opportunities, there 
 were immense differences in the type of man and his 
 circumstances. Beethoven came of the more tenacious 
 northern stock, partly Dutch and partly German ; and he 
 had the good fortune to be obliged to cultivate self-depend- 
 ence very early, and to make acquaintance with J. S. Bach's 
 works at a time when he was sufficiently impressionable 
 to profit by them. His youthful experiences in Bonn 
 were by no means of the smoothest and pleasantest. He 
 had a good deal to endure in his home life that was harsh 
 and unlovely, and he had to endure a good deal of second- 
 rate music while playing in the local opera band. By 
 the former his character was formed; by the latter the 
 most obvious principles of design were strongly impressed 
 into his organisation. Like most artists whose spur is 
 more in themselves than in natural artistic facilities, 
 he was very slow to come to any artistic achievement. 
 It is almost a law of things that men whose artistic 
 personality is very strong, and who touch the world by 
 the greatness and the power of their expression, come to 
 maturity comparatively late, and sometimes grow greater 
 all through their lives. So it was with Bach, Gluck, 
 Beethoven, and Wagner. While men whose aims are more 
 purely artistic, and whose main spur is artistic facility, 
 come to the point of production early, and do not grow 
 much afterwards. Such composers as Mozart and Men- 
 delssohn succeeded in expressing themselves brilliantly at 
 a very early age ; but their technical facility was out of 
 proportion to the individuality and force of human nature, 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN. 277 
 
 and Lherefove there is no such surprising difference be- 
 tween the work of their later years and the work of 
 their childhood as there is in the case of Beethoven and 
 Wagner. 
 
 In Beethoven's nature there was an extraordinarily 
 keen sense for design, but there was also a very powerful 
 impulse towards expression. In his earliest days he 
 seems to waver from one point of view to another. 
 Most of his early works follow the lines which had 
 become familiar, and show little change from the artistic 
 attitude of Mozart or Haydn. But every now and then, 
 even in the early days at Bonn, the spirit of adventure 
 possesses him, and then some surprising feat, prefiguring 
 the achievements of his l^est days, makes its appear- 
 ance ; such a stroke as the end of the Coda of the Eighini 
 variations, which presents a device which he carried out 
 more effectually and for more expressive purposes in the 
 Coriolan Overture. But these sudden revelations of the 
 spirit that was within him are at first only spasmodic, 
 and he subsides again after an outbreak of genius into the 
 grave deportment of the formal period. But from many 
 indications it can be judged that mere composition as 
 a purely artistic operation did not come easily to him. 
 Haydn's want of sympathy with him, and the well-known 
 verdict of the theorist Albrechtsberger, alike point to the 
 fact that he was not born to write without an emotional 
 or intellectual spur. The moment in the history of music 
 appears to have been reached, when its great resources 
 were ready to be used for expressive ends of a new type, 
 and Schubert and Weber were soon due to illustrate the 
 wide spread of new impulses ; but it was allotted to Beet- 
 hoven to lead the van. And unlike them he was to do his 
 work within the limits of the old designs of the Sonata 
 type ; by grasping the innermost nature of t-heir principles, 
 and expanding them to the utmost that they would bear. 
 
278 MUSIC. 
 
 It is indeed the most characteristic feature of Beeth- 
 oven's work that the greater part, and the best of it all, is 
 cast in the form of the sonata, which Haydn and Mozart 
 had organised to so high a degree of perfection as pure 
 design. Beethoven could not have expressed himself 
 adequately within the conditions of perfect design — 
 which his instincts truly told him was an absolute 
 necessity of art — without making use of a form whose 
 principles were fully understood. It was his good for- 
 tune that the sonata form had been so perfectly or- 
 ganised, and that the musical public had been made 
 so perfectly familiar with it, that they were ready to 
 follow every suggestion and indication of the principle 
 of form; and even to grasp what he aimed at when ho 
 purposely presumed upon their familiarity with it, to 
 build fresh subtleties and new devices upon the well- 
 known lines ; and sometimes even to emphasise the points 
 by making progressions in directions which seemed to 
 ignore them. Beethoven had a great gift for extempo- 
 risation ; and there are many subtle devices in his work 
 that look as if he had tested the power of his audiences 
 to follow his points by actual observation. Like Scar- 
 latti, he often seems to play upon his audience, and 
 to follow the processes that will be going on in their 
 minds ; and so well to forecast the very things that they 
 will expect to happen, that he can make sure of having the 
 pleasure of puzzling them by doing something else. But 
 in order to put into practice all the multitudinous possi- 
 bilities he could foresee, he had to take a form which his 
 audience would thoroughly understand. And this is one 
 of the many reasons for the preponderance of the sonata 
 type in his works. 
 
 This preponderance is most marked in the early part 
 of his career. His first period, as it is sometimes called, 
 extends to about Opus 50, and to about the thirty-fourth 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN. 279 
 
 year of his life. His first thirty-one works were all of 
 the sonata order, and the majority of them actually 
 solo pianoforte sonatas. He did not attempt orchestral 
 work till he wrote the concertos in C and Bb which 
 stand as Opus 15 and 19, but of which the latter was 
 the earliest. The famous septuor, which is a large 
 combination of solo instruments, and implies use of 
 orchestral colour, is Opus 20; and the first symphony 
 was Opus 21, and was not written till he was twenty- 
 nine. In this early period there are some very notable 
 outbreaks of the genuine characteristic Beethoven, as 
 before mentioned, and they grow more frequent as his 
 powers grow more mature. The Kreutzer Sonata for violin 
 and pianoforte has all the traits of the completely great 
 Beethoven. Its introduction is one of the things that no 
 one else has approached in its way for both subtlety of 
 design and expression; and the splendid energy and passion 
 of the allegro, and the extraordinary beauty of the theme 
 and variations, are fully up to his best standard of work. 
 After Opus 50 there comes a sudden flood of works which 
 are among the greatest treasures of musical art. The bril- 
 liant Waldstein Sonata is Opus 53; close upon it comes 
 the first symphony which is genuinely great in all aspects, 
 the Eroica, completed in 1804; then one of the most 
 impulsive and passionate of the sonatas, that in F minor. 
 Opus 57; then the delicate G major Concerto, with the 
 extraordinary slow movement, instinct with the dramatic 
 spirit of the very best moments of Gluck; the Easou- 
 moffsld Quartetts, Opus 59; the Bb Symphony; the 
 Yiolin Concerto ; the rugged Overture to Coriolan ; the 
 C minor Symphony, which is the concentrated essence of 
 the individual Beethoven of that time ; the I'astoral Sym- 
 phony, which breathes most faithfully his ardent love of 
 nature and woods and all things health-giving to the 
 human mind ; his one opera, Fidelio ; the first Concerto 
 
2So MUSIC. 
 
 in Eb, justly called the Emperor ; the Quartett in Eb ; 
 the romantic Seventh Symphony, and the playful Eighth 
 Symphony, which he called his little one ; and the Trio 
 in Bb, Opus 97. But as his Opus numbers pass into 
 the nineties a change begins to be discernible in his 
 style, especially in the Quartett in F minor, Opus 95. 
 The warmth of expression, and the spontaneous flow of 
 energetic thought which marks the middle period, begin 
 to give way before the influx of moods that are at once 
 sadder, more concentrated, and more reflective. By that 
 time — about his fortieth year — troubles of many kinds 
 were beginning to tell upon Beethoven's sensitive disposi- 
 tion. The iron had entered into his soul, and it made him 
 dive deeper into things human. Some of the most divinely 
 and serenely beautiful of all his conceptions belong to 
 this third period, but they are attended by moods which 
 reveal his suffering and his determination to endure. 
 There is more thought and more experience of life in 
 this period ; and if less of geniality than in his middle 
 life, an infinitely wider range of feeling, characteristic 
 expression, and style. It seems as if his art had widened 
 out from being the mere expression of his own wonderful 
 personality, and had become the interpreter of the inner- 
 most joys and sorrows of all human creatures. In order to 
 find expression for all that he had in his mind, he had to 
 expand his resources of design and expression even further 
 than in his middle period, and the result was that very 
 little of his later music was understood by his contem- 
 poraries. Most of it was considered impossible to play. 
 But this was really not because it was more technically 
 difficult than the works of his middle period, but because 
 it was so much more difficult to interpret. And as 
 Beethoven was by this time almost totally deaf, he could 
 not show people how to perform it rightly ; and very few 
 people had enough musical intelligence to find out for 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSIOX AND DESIGN. 2S1 
 
 themselves. In later times the traditions of what is 
 necessary for their adequate interpretation have been so 
 carefully and minutely described, that even people of no 
 intelligence sometimes contrive not to make great artistic 
 conceptions sound like nonsense ; and works once thought 
 impracticable are among the most familiar features of 
 everyday concerts. 
 
 It is a familiar fact to every one that Beethoven's works 
 sound fuller and richer than those of any composers since 
 Bach. This is partly owing to the warmth and human 
 interest of his ideas, but it is also due to the actual treat- 
 ment of the instruments. In pianoforte works it is partly 
 owing to the development of genuine pianoforte playing. 
 The manner of playing the harpsichord and clavichord had 
 been to creep over the keys with flat fingers and flat hands. 
 Any attempt to strike the harpsichord as players now do 
 the pianoforte would have the reverse effect from what is 
 intended ; for a blow of any sharpness drives the jacks up 
 between the strings, and reduces the instrument to silence. 
 The early pianofortes had but slight fall in the keys, and 
 consequently the traditions of harpsichord playing were 
 transferred to them without much unfitness. But when 
 the keys were deepened to get more tone, new methods 
 became necessary ; and though the typical conservative 
 mind regarded any effort to change such things as a species 
 of heresy, the stronger and more practical musicians soon 
 cultivated such heresies with much success. Clementi 
 especially gave much attention to the proper way of deal- 
 ing with an instrument in which the sound was produced 
 by the blows of little hammers ; and Beethoven followed 
 in the same direction. He instantly dissipated the absurd 
 tradition which implied that what was right for the harpsi- 
 chord was right for the pianoforte. The instrument suited 
 his passionate vigorous temperament ; it lent itself to rich 
 harmonisation, to rhythmic variety ; and by the aid of the 
 
282 MUSIC. 
 
 pedal he managed to produce the floods of tone in which 
 his soul delighted. His contrivances in the latter direc- 
 tion were especially important, as he not only widened 
 the capacities of a keyed instrument, but gave the first 
 impulse to that characteristic softening and clouding of 
 outlines which is so familiar in the so-called " romantic " 
 style of recent times. In the orchestral branches of art 
 the enrichment of tone by the gradual increase of varieties 
 of instruments had been going on ever since Scarlatti's 
 time. The nucleus of strings with two pairs of wind 
 instruments, and a harpsichord to fill in the harmonies, 
 which was usually employed for the small symphonies in 
 the early part of the eighteenth century, was increased by 
 the end of it to strings, flutes, hautboys, bassoons, two 
 horns, two trumpets, and drums. Haydn and Mozart 
 used clarinets sometimes, but not often; it was not till 
 recent times that the mechanism of the instrument was 
 sufficiently perfect to make it available, and the tone 
 of the old clarinets was probably thinner and shriller 
 than that of modern ones. Beethoven used them from 
 the first in all his symphonies; in the third symphony 
 (the Eroica) he added a third horn; in the massive 
 C minor symphony he added three trombones and a 
 double bassoon ; and in the last, No. 9, he added a fourth 
 horn as well. His object was not so much to add to the 
 noise as to increase the opportunities for variety ; and to 
 organise the actual and relative possibilities of instru- 
 mental tone to the utmost. 
 
 The constitution of the orchestra has remained as he 
 established it ever since. The aspirations of modern sen- 
 sational composers have not managed to improve upon the 
 actual order of the instruments, though they have often 
 increased the numbers ; and the wood wind being now 
 somewhat overbalanced by the great number of stringed 
 instruments used for large concert-rooms, the only balance 
 
DALAXCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN. 2S3 
 
 in " forte " passages is between strings and brass instru- 
 ments. And this, combined with the growing taste for 
 brilliancy of colour, has led to a slight increase in the 
 latter department. Beethoven enjoyed the advantage, 
 over Haydn and Mozart, that the actual powers of per- 
 formance on orchestral instruments had greatly improved. 
 He could afford to write more difficult passages, and to 
 use a wider range of sounds. Even in his first two 
 symphonies he has advanced beyond the earlier masters 
 in variety of effect and in a certain solemn depth which 
 is very characteristic of some of his moods ; and he uses 
 his instruments with more and more distinctness of pur- 
 pose as he goes on. He knows exactly where the bright 
 sparkling tone of the flute will serve his turn, and where 
 the pathetic tenderness of the hautboy ; the liquid fulness 
 of the clarinet had a place in his scheme, and the extra- 
 ordinary varieties of the bassoon's tones are most familiar 
 to him, in all its grotesque, humorous, plaintive, and 
 even pathetic aspects. The curious human-like uncer- 
 tainty and mystery of the horns, and their powers of 
 enriching the softer harmonies, are most especially con- 
 genial to him. He knows the majestic force of the trom- 
 bones in the loud passages, and their impressive solemnity 
 in soft passages ; and, unlike many later writers, he never 
 makes them odious with vulgar brutish blatancy. He 
 sees all the varieties in their true light. For the tone 
 qualities of the various instruments serve not only for 
 contrast, but like colours, to excite sensibilities. Mozart 
 occasionally used special instruments to enforce situations, 
 as in the wonderful accompaniment of soft swelling trom- 
 bones and horns to the voice of the oracle in Idomeneo ; 
 and in the familiar passages for the brass instruments in 
 Don Giovanni and Zaubcrilote. But a large majority of 
 his special effects are for the mere purpose of pure beauty 
 or contrast ; and his variety is nf)t very great. For there 
 
2Z/[ MUSIC. 
 
 is a great family likeness about his various uses of thirds in 
 double octaves for bassoons and flutes or hautboys, though 
 the effect is quite beautiful enough to be borne very often. 
 Beethoven's use of his resources in this respect is very 
 much more full of variety, and in a very large number of 
 cases it is so absolutely to the purpose, that it seems the 
 necessary outcome of the mood which his particular 
 melody, rhythm, or harmony, or the sum of all three of 
 them, conveys at the particular moment. 
 
 But, in truth, design, colour, and expression are so closely 
 wedded in his best work that it is difficult to disin- 
 tegrate them. The expression is great because it comes 
 exactly in the true place in the scheme of design to telL 
 The colour exerts its full influence mainly because the 
 expression and the design put the mind exactly in the 
 receptive condition to be fully impressed by it. Even 
 the most limited of instruments can be made to produce 
 an astounding effect through its relation to its context. 
 Tlie whole of the scherzo of the C minor symphony is as 
 near being miraculous as human work can be; but one of 
 its most absorbing moments is the part where for fifteen 
 bars there is nothing going on but an insignificant chord 
 continuously held by low strings, and a pianissimo rhyth- 
 mic beat of the drum. Taken out of its context it would 
 be perfectly meaningless. As Beethoven has used it, it is 
 infinitely more impressive than the greatest noise Meyer- 
 beer and his fellows ever succeeded in making. 
 
 Beethoven's attitude in relation to art and expression 
 naturally led him by degrees to modify the average 
 scheme of the design of instrumental works in accordance 
 with the ideas which he felt he could artistically express. 
 This was one of the features which indicated the direction 
 in which art was destined to travel after his time. But 
 the changes he made were mainly in respect of the general 
 order and grouping of the movements, and not often in 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN. -S5 
 
 the disposal or ordering of their contents. The form of 
 the principal movement (which is commonly known by 
 the unhappy name of " binary ") is so wonderfully elastic 
 that he found little occasion to alter it except by strength- 
 ening the main pillars of the structure, and widening its 
 general scope, wherever possible ; as in the Codas. His 
 early solo sonatas were on the usual plan, but increased 
 to four movements, like Mozart's and Haydn's symphonies. 
 But in later times, when he had attained a more com- 
 prehensive view of the situation, he varied the number 
 and order of the movements in all classes of instru- 
 mental works, sometimes increasing to five, and sometimes 
 reducing to two. Sometimes beginning with a slow move- 
 ment, sometimes omitting it altogether. His most im- 
 portant alteration in the general scheme was the intro- 
 duction of the scherzo in place of the old minuet. The 
 virtue of introducing the minuet after the slow movement 
 lay in the decisive contrast the rhythmic principle of 
 the dance aiforded to the cantabile character of the slow 
 movement. But the choice was not really a happy one, 
 because the minuet was not naturally a vigorous rhythmic 
 dance, but graceful, flowing, and rather slow and sedate. 
 Mozart and Haydn were both led correctly by their 
 instincts to give their minuets a far more animated and 
 vigorous character than the actual dance motions war- 
 ranted ; and composers ultimately gave up all attempts to 
 pay attention to the relation of the music to hypothetical 
 dance motions, and took it presto, and called it by a new 
 name, the scherzo. 
 
 The fact that tlie scherzo had been known long before 
 does not lessen the importance of Beethoven's systematic 
 adoption of it, which gave it its place in modern music. 
 For both by implication and in fact it is one of the most 
 important of the features which made their appearance 
 in the early part of this century. The fact that it made 
 
286 MUSIC. 
 
 such a much better contrast to the slow movement is 
 really of secondary importance, though from the purely 
 artistic point of view that is considerable. Very much 
 more important is its meaning in respect of expression. 
 Many people have unfortunately got into the habit of 
 taking " expression " to mean only sentimental expression ; 
 and convention has deprived the language of a compre- 
 hensive word in order to give it a special bearing^ 
 In reference to music, it must be taken in its widest 
 sense ; and at this moment it is particularly important 
 to take note of the fact; as the essence of musical 
 progress from Beethoven onwards lies in the develop- 
 ment of infinite varieties of expression. Beethoven's 
 adoption of the scherzo was like a manifesto on that 
 point. The scherzo has become one of the most valuable 
 types for the conveyance of all those kinds of expression 
 which are not sentimental ; and require to be described in 
 terms of action rather than terms of vocal utterance. In 
 this its primal dance origin confirms the gesticulatory 
 meaning of the rhythmic element in music. With 
 Beethoven the scherzo became the most free of all the 
 movements in the sonata group. He did not restrict it 
 to the characteristic triple time of the minuet, but took 
 any time that the situation required ; and so far dispensed 
 with the systematic orderliness of the harmonic type that 
 the plan of a movement is often as difficult to unravel as 
 that of any of Bach's merriest and lightest fugues. In 
 ranging wide and free among human characteristics this 
 apparent independence of regularity and rule was just 
 perfectly apposite ; and it is interesting to note that Men- 
 delssohn's keen insight divined this point, and that he 
 struck out an equally informal line in his scherzos with 
 much success; for the genuine "scherzo" impulse had a 
 very happy and wholesome effect upon his disposition. 
 But of course he cannot be compared with Beethoven 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN. 287 
 
 either for variety or scope ; for nowhere is the subtlety 
 of Beethoven's imagination or the keenness of his insight 
 more conspicuous; and no form shows more clearly or 
 variously the character of the man. His love of every- 
 thing that concerned the human creature, without re- 
 spect of persons or classes, comes ou.t. Other movements 
 supplied him with the opportunities for uttering graver 
 sentiments and emotions, here he dealt with mischief, 
 raillery, humour, fun of every description, in the terms 
 that are like the healthy honest spirits of a child. In- 
 deed the analogies are generally most likely to be found 
 in the spontaneous merriment of children, for the veneer 
 of respectability in people of mature years buries most of 
 tlie natural expansion in such directions out of sight. 
 
 The resources of the pianoforte were hardly adequate 
 to his purposes in this line ; and though he wrote some 
 very successful and graphic examples for the instrument, 
 his most brilliant achievements are in the symphonies, 
 quartet ts, and trios, where either variety of colour or 
 the crystalline clearness of violin tone afforded him 
 better opportunities. 
 
 The matter of design is of such pre-eminent importance 
 in his works that it must inevitably be discussed in some 
 detail; since the effect of his work depends so much 
 upon his marvellous concentration and self-control in 
 that respect. Very few people realise the importance of 
 management of design, and the extent to which it can be 
 carried ; and thougli they cannot fail to see how important 
 it is in small things, they do not follow out their observa- 
 tion to its logical consequences, and see that it is equally 
 important in great. Even people of little intelligence can 
 perceive that when one chord or figure has been going on 
 for a long while, it is a relief to have it changed ; and it 
 does not take any great powers of mind to realise that there 
 is a right place and a wrong for the change to come. But 
 
288 MUSIC. 
 
 even when that much is seen, and it is realised that the 
 proper management of the successions of chords is the basis 
 of modern instrumental design, people still seem to forget 
 that what applies to one little part applies to the whole ; 
 and that in a highly organised work of art there is a right 
 place and a wrong for every change of harmony, and for 
 every rise and fall of the melody throughout a long piece 
 of music. The full effect of every great stroke of art in 
 such cases depends upon the perfect control of the motion, 
 direction, and even the colour of every successive moment 
 in the work. Beethoven often makes a stroke which is 
 only intelligible by its relation to some other passage 
 that is some hundreds of bars away in another part of 
 the movement ; but he manages it so perfectly that an 
 auditor over whom he has cast his spell can instantly 
 seize his drift. The extraordinary degree of concentra- 
 tion in this respect is such as no other composer has ever 
 approached. With all Mozart's skill in design his work 
 is very loose in texture compared with that of his suc- 
 cessor. A short discussion of minutia3 may help to make 
 this clearer. It so happens that both Beethoven and 
 Mozart used the same root idea — the former in his first 
 sonata, and the latter in the last movement of his Cl 
 minor symphony. The spirit of the idea is an energetic 
 upward leap through a rhythmic arpeggio to a strongly 
 emotional high note. 
 
 -(S-(rt) Beethoven. 
 
 SIB ^^^M 
 
 The high note, as the crisis, naturally requires something 
 to round it off Mozart makes the emphatic point sub- 
 side into a sentimental harmony; Beethoven cuts it oH 
 sharply by an emphatic turn. 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN. 
 
 Beethoven. 
 
 MOZAKT. 
 
 i 
 
 ( «)J-. P i^ I 
 
 t:a^: 
 
 -f= 1 1 — 
 
 Mozart then simply breaks off and continues the pro- 
 ceedings by a new phrase, which from an emotional point 
 of view would be quite trivial. 
 
 ^^^ggg^ 
 
 Beethoven, on the contrary, keeps firm hold of his text ; 
 and enforces it by repeating it in another position in the 
 scale, which makes his emotional point rise a step higher. 
 
 Then taking his emotional point and its characteristic 
 appendage, he drives it home by repeating it with strong 
 accent, rising higher each time to give it extra intensity.^ 
 sf sf sf 
 
 S_^=^fe 
 
 i^ 
 
 :£2: 
 
 And only when the highest point of the crisis is reached 
 does he relax the tension, and a softer and more yielding 
 version of the turn is moulded on to the cadence which 
 concludes his sentence ; which therefore stands in its 
 entirety : — 
 
 liii^tii 
 
 [S^Ei 
 
 ilfe^^ 
 
 '/ 
 
 ^ Compare the Irish folk-tune on page 85 for the principle. 
 
 T 
 
290 MUSIC. 
 
 Thus the whole of Beethoven's first sentence is knit to- 
 gether in the closest bonds by insistence upon his emotional 
 point. Mozart, having given his root idea and its counter 
 idea to balance it, repeats them in the same order, but 
 with the order of the harmony reversed, taking dominant 
 first and tonic to finish with, and so concludes : — 
 
 
 
 Beethoven, over and above the close consistency with 
 which he uses his idea, unifies the whole passage of eight 
 bars by the skilful use of his bass, which marches up step 
 by step from the leading note below the tonic starting- 
 point to the dominant above it ; thereby helping the 
 mind to grasp the principle of design and to feel the close 
 unity of the whole sentence. In Mozart's passage the 
 alternation of tonic and dominant is very obvious, and is 
 the means whereby the tonality of the passage is made 
 clear. In Beethoven's passage the alternation of tonic and 
 dominant is equally present and equally regular, but the 
 bass happily disguises it, while it also serves as an addi- 
 tional indication of the structure of the passage. To show 
 the whole artistic purpose and skill of the first twelve 
 bars would require a chapter to itself, for with Beethoven 
 nearly every progression has several aspects. All that can 
 be attempted here is to show how the process is carried 
 on, in such a manner that each step becomes the necessary 
 outcome of the impulse which is expressed at the moment 
 of starting. The end of the first sentence above quoted 
 in full leaves the hearer in the air, as it were ; for it ends 
 only on a relatively final chord, the dominant. Further 
 proceedings are therefore necessarily expected ; and Beet- 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN. 291 
 
 hoven resumes his subject in the Lass by way of contrast, 
 and in a position of the scale which for the moment is 
 purposely obscure. He does not wish to reveal his inten- 
 tions all at once ; so the key seems to be C minor, when it 
 is intended to lead to Ab. When the emotional point is 
 reached it is immediately pushed on, together with the 
 turn which makes it identifiable, by an unexpected dis- 
 cord. This of course requires its resolution, which is 
 made in such a way as to produce another discord; and 
 so by the necessities of each resolution the music is 
 pushed on step by step till tlie dominant of the new and 
 contrasting key is reached, and the circuit of this first 
 division of the movement is completed. The root idea 
 has never for a moment been lost sight of ; so from both 
 ]ioints of view — idea and design alike — no step is without 
 its significance and its bearing. And all the rest of the 
 movement is carried out on the same principles. 
 
 To avoid misconception, it is as well to point out that 
 ]\Iozart, in the parallel case above quoted, also uses his 
 materials very consistently, and develops them into new 
 phases ; but not with the close concentration even of 
 Beethoven's earliest work. 
 
 Of the almost endless devices and subtleties Beethoven 
 uses to make his design intelligible, the most familiar is a 
 steady progress of the bass by tones or semitones up or 
 down in accordance with the spirit which the moment 
 requires. Where subsidence from a crisis is wanted, it 
 goes down, where extra animation is wanted it rises ; and 
 always so as to direct the mind towards the point which it 
 is essential to realise. One of the most remarkable in- 
 stances is in the middle of the first movement of the great 
 Appassionata Sonata. The course of events has brought 
 about a point of repose in the key of Db ; and for the pur- 
 poses of design it is necessary to modulate back to the 
 principal key, F minor, and concentrate all the attention 
 
292 MUSIC. 
 
 upon the chord humediately before the chord which finally 
 announces that the rambling and voyaging division of the 
 movement is over, and the principal key reached again. 
 To do this Beethoven makes his bass rise slowly step by 
 step for fifteen bars — from the Db below the bass stave 
 to the Db next under the treble stave. The whole mass 
 of the harmony rises with it, with increasing excitement, 
 so that the crisis of the emotional aspect of the pro- 
 gression exactly coincides with the point which it is most 
 essential that the mind should grasp firmly as the last 
 before one of the most important points in the scheme — 
 the return to the original key and subject. And, by way 
 of contrast to the long-continued motion, the penultimate 
 chord, when arrived at, continues unchanged for eleven 
 bars, the mind being fully occupied with the rattling 
 brilliancy of figured arpeggios. The same kind of sequence 
 transferred to the treble part is to be found in the develop- 
 ment portion of the first movement of the sonata in Ab, 
 Opus I lo, where the progression drops down step by step 
 for a whole octave ; thereby completely unifying the whole 
 of the " development " portion of the movement. 
 
 Another device of the same kind is that which makes 
 the whole mass of the harmony move upon a bass con- 
 stantly shifting by steps of thirds. The most remarkable 
 instance is the introductory movement to the fugue in the 
 sonata in B!7, Opus io6, where the dropping steps of the 
 thirds continue through the whole movement without 
 intermission ; supplying an underlying principle of order 
 to all the varieties of mood and expression which occur in 
 it. Another very remarkable instance of the same device 
 is in the middle of the first movement of the sonata in E 
 minor. Opus 90. Some such sequence or principle of order, 
 either on a small or a wide ranging basis, gives coherence 
 and sense of orderliness even in his most elaborately 
 contrived effects of harmonic motion. 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN. 293 
 
 His ways of insisting upon his key, without letting it 
 be seen that he is doing so, are many and various. As 
 has been pointed out, he often casts his leading idea in 
 terms of the tonic chord. But he is very fond of suggesting 
 and bewildering at the same time. Thus the principal part 
 of the Eroica subject is made out of the tonic chord of El?, 
 
 m 
 
 ^^^m 
 
 but then the whole aspect of things becomes perplexing 
 for a moment by its passing straight out of the key with 
 
 'A — J--^ ^ . ^ ; and the mind is for a moment 
 
 S^ 
 
 in doubt of its whereabouts. And then Beethoven slips 
 back into his key again as quickly as he went out, as if he 
 made light of his own device. Whereas he has no inten- 
 tion of making light of it. For when the same passage 
 comes back some five minutes later he knows quite well 
 that his audience will remember it, and thereupon he 
 turns the progression inside out ; leaving them even more 
 perplexed and interested than before. Similarly he some- 
 times begins quite out of the key in order to make the 
 safe arrival at the true starting-point the more striking. 
 Again he sometimes casts his subject in the form of a 
 sequence, which leads out of the key immediately, as 
 in the sonata in E minor. Opus 90; but the progressions 
 move by such a logical process that when the circuit is 
 complete the impression of the key is a great deal stronger 
 and more vital than if he had contented himself with 
 tonic and dominant all the while. Both Brahms and 
 Wagner have followed him in this device. Brahms in 
 the Second Ehapsody, and Wagner in the Vorspiel to 
 Tristan. Another way of insisting on the key is the 
 obvious one of emphasising in succession all the principal 
 chords which represent it — tonic, dominant, subdominant. 
 
294 MUSIC. 
 
 supertonic, &c. Of this there are two exactly parallel 
 cases in works as different as the little G major sonata, 
 Opus 14, No. 2, and the first movement of the Waldstein ; 
 where they occur exactly in analogous positions, in the 
 section representing the second key. 
 
 His subjects themselves very often have some wide 
 principle of general effect besides the mere interest of 
 the details. It may be a systematic rise of a charac- 
 teristic figure, as in the subject of the Ab sonata, Opus no; 
 or the persistence of a rhythmic nucleus which under- 
 lies a more general melodic outline — as in the first sentence 
 of the C minor symphony, or it may be the recurrence 
 of some very striking feature, such as the two fierce 
 blows at the end of the rushing arpeggio in the last 
 movement of the Ci? minor sonata (commonly called 
 Moonlight). And when there are phases like this he 
 generally extends them, in tlie development of the sub- 
 jects, into new situations and aspects. A happy instance 
 of this is the treatment of the second subject in the 
 last movement of the C i? minor sonata : — 
 
 Here at the asterisks the accented note successively rises 
 and gains in warmth; and thus it becomes the most strik- 
 ing feature of the subject. So at the end of the move- 
 ment Beethoven enhances the passion of it (with great 
 effect also for the purpose of design) by extending the rise 
 and pressing the emotional points closer: — 
 
 '^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN. 295 
 
 His power of presenting the same subject in different 
 aspects has very important bearing on the progress of 
 art. In his case it is particularly valuable in the de- 
 velopment of a movement, as it enabled him to keep true 
 to his initial idea without sameness, and at the same 
 time to add to its interest. He showed this faculty in 
 the highest degree in his variations, a form of which he 
 was quite the greatest master. His treatment indeed 
 makes it one of the most interesting forms of art, while 
 in the hands of composers of less power it is one of the 
 most detestable. With him the theme is a sort of cha- 
 meleon thought which is capable of undergoing all kinds 
 of mysterious changes ; and of being expressed sometimes 
 gaily, sometimes sadly, sometimes fiercely. He groups 
 variations together in accordance with their affinities, 
 and distributes the different moods so as to illustrate one 
 another, and to make a complete composite design. 
 
 The texture of his work as a whole is far more poly- 
 phonic than that of his predecessors, and illustrates the 
 tendency of the time to revert to the methods of Bach, in 
 the free motion of the bass and the internal organisation 
 of the harmony— adapting the methods at the same time 
 to the system of harmonic form. The case is parallel to 
 the reversion to the methods of the old ecclesiastical 
 music after the Florentine revolution of Peri and ]\lonte- 
 verde. But the counterpoint is by no means that of 
 Bach; it is less ostensible, and the various inner parts 
 and figures that move are kept in relative subordination 
 in accordance with their relative degrees of importance. 
 Music by this means regained an immensely enhanced 
 power of expression of the highest kind. The harmony 
 not only became more interesting and rich, but very much 
 more powerful at the moments when powerful discord 
 was required; and at the same time it afforded much 
 more delicate gradations of degrees of harshness. 
 
296 MUSIC. 
 
 The tendency to use the art for expression naturally led 
 Beethoven to identify his work occasionally with some 
 definite idea or subject. As in the Eroica Symphony, 
 which was intended for his ideal of Napoleon (so soon 
 shattered) ; the Pastoral Symphony, which embodied his 
 feelings about the fields, and brooks, and woods, and birds 
 he loved so well ; the " Lebewohl" Sonata, which embodied 
 his ideal musical sense of friends parting, of absence, and 
 of the joyous coming together again. But with him, for 
 almost the first time, the true principle of programme 
 music is found, and he indicates it with absolute insight 
 into the situation in his remark on the Pastoral Sym- 
 phony. That it was "mehr Ausdruck der Empfindung, 
 als Malerei" — "More the expression of inner feeling than 
 picturing." The most common failing of minds less keen 
 than Beethoven's is to try and make people see with their 
 ears. Beethoven goes to the root of the matter. For, as 
 pointed out in the first chapter, it is not the business of 
 music to depict the external, but to convey the inner 
 impressions which are the result of the external. And 
 music is true in spiritual design only when it is consistent 
 in the use of the resources of expression to the possible 
 workings of the mind in special moods or under the in- 
 fluence of special external impressions. With Beethoven 
 and Bach the consistency of the harmonic, melodic, and 
 rhythmic elements of expression is so perfect, that with 
 all the infinity of change and the variety that is necessary 
 for design's sake, the possible working of a mind affected 
 by some special exciting cause is consistently represented 
 by the kind of treatment that is used. That people often 
 can feel this for themselves is shown by the general adop- 
 tion of such a name as " the Appassionata," which was 
 not given by Beethoven, but which is eminently justified 
 in every particular by the contents of that wonderful 
 sonata. 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN. 297 
 
 Beethoven's opportunity Lay in the enormous develop- 
 ment of the resources of art, and in the fact that the prin- 
 ciples of a singularly malleable type of design were ready 
 to his hand when he came upon the scene. His imagina- 
 tion and his powers of concentration were equal to his 
 responsibilities. The resources of art were as yet not so 
 great as to tempt him to extravagance. Indeed he him- 
 self had to collect and systematise much of them, and 
 enlarged them more than any other man except Bach. 
 The sonata form, moreover, was new enough to afford him 
 scope without forcing him either to risk commonplace, or 
 to resort to hyper-intellectual devices to hide its fami- 
 liarities. In his hands alone the forces of design and of 
 expression were completely controlled. Self-dependent 
 instrumental art on the grandest and broadest lines found 
 its first perfect revelation in his hands, not in a formal 
 sense alone, but as the highest phase of true and noble 
 characteristic expression. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MODERN TENDENCIES. 
 
 Beethoven stands just at the turning-point of the ways 
 of modern art, and combines the sum of past human 
 effort in the direction of musical design with the first 
 ripe utterance of the modern impulse — made possible by 
 the great accumulation of artistic resources — in the direc- 
 tion of human expression. After him the course of things 
 naturally changed. In the art of the century before him 
 formality was prominent and expression very restrained ; 
 in the times after him the conditions were reversed, and 
 the instinct of man was propelled to resent the conventions 
 of form which seemed to fetter his imagination, and began 
 his wanderings and experiments anew in the irrepressible 
 conviction that every road must lead somewhere. A new 
 artistic crisis had been passed, similar to the crises of 
 Palestrina and Bach, but implying a still greater organi- 
 sation and a richer accumulation of actual resources than 
 was available for either of the earlier masters. All three 
 crises represent a relatively perfect formulation of human 
 feeling. Palestrina without emotion embodies the most 
 perfect presentation of contemplative reUgious devotion. 
 Bach, more touched by the secular spirit, and fully capable 
 of strong emotion, formulates a more liberal and energetic 
 type of religious sentiment, and foreshadows, by his new 
 combination of rhythm and polyphony, the musical expres- 
 sion of every sort of human feeling. Beethoven expresses 
 the complete emancipation of human emotion and mind, 
 and attempts to give expression to every kind of inner 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 299 
 
 sensibility which is capable and worthy of being brought 
 into the circuit of an artistic scheme of design. 
 
 But only at particular moments in the history of art 
 are such crises possible. For it needs not only the grandeur 
 of a man's nature to think of things worthy of being 
 grandly said ; but it requires a condition of mankind which 
 shall be as appreciative of artistic considerations as of 
 expression. There may be nobility, truth, and greatness 
 in art at all times ; but the perfect adjustment of things 
 which is necessary to make a grand scheme of art, and to 
 render possible examples of it which are nearly perfect 
 from every point of view, is only to be found at rare 
 moments in the history of human effort. The love of 
 art for art's sake is generally a mere love of orderliness 
 in things which require a great deal of ingenuity to get 
 into order ; at best it is a love of beauty for itself. At 
 one stage in art's history this attitude in relation to it is 
 inevitable, but humanity as it grows older instinctively 
 feels that the adoration of mere beauty is sometimes 
 childish and sometimes thoroughly unwholesome ; and 
 men want to be more sure that the human energies 
 are not sapped by art instead of being fostered by it. 
 The natural result is that a crisis follows in which the 
 worshippers of abstract beauty and the worshippers of 
 expression both find almost complete satisfaction; but 
 after that things tend to leave the grand lines which 
 imply a steadfast reverence for the highest phase of 
 abstract beauty, and men seek a new field wherein to 
 develop effects of strong characterisation. Art comes 
 down from its lofty region and becomes the handmaid of 
 everyday life. It seems to be so in most of the arts ; for 
 they each have their time of special glory, and are then 
 turned to the more practical purposes of illustration. The 
 greater portion of the arts of painting and drawing in 
 modern times is devoted to illustration of the most definite 
 
300 MUSIC. 
 
 kind ; and even the pictures which aim at special artistic 
 value, and are exhibited in important galleries, are of 
 infinite range in subject, and endeavour to realise within 
 the conditions of artistic presentation almost anything 
 which has impressed an artist as worthy of permanent 
 record. The instinct for beauty and the feeling for design 
 may still have plenty of scope in accordance with the 
 disposition of the artist, but they are by no means so 
 prominent a part of art as they were ; and many pictures 
 have had immense fame which have been nothing but the 
 baldest presentations of totally uninteresting everyday 
 occurrences, without a trace of anything that shows a 
 sense of either beauty or design. 
 
 It is much the same in literature. Nothing is more 
 conspicuously characteristic of the present age than the 
 immense increase of short characteristic stories which 
 make vividly alive for all men the varieties of human 
 circumstances and character, from the remotest districts 
 of India and the steppes of Eussia, to the islands of Galway 
 Bay and the backwoods of Australia. The few men that 
 still have the instincts of great art cling to the great 
 traditions and deal as much as they can with great sub- 
 jects, but the preponderant tendency in all arts is towards 
 variety and closeness of characterisation. 
 
 As has before been pointed out, the premonitions of 
 this tendency are already discernible in Beethoven; and 
 many other external facts in his time and soon after show 
 in what direction the mind of man was moving. A char- 
 acteristic point is the much more frequent adoption by 
 composers of names for their works ; which evidently 
 implies taking a definite idea and endeavouring to make 
 the music express it. No one emphasises this fact 
 more than Spohr. By natural musical organisation and 
 habit of mind he was the last composer of whom one 
 might expect unclassical procedure. Mozart was his 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 301 
 
 model, and Beethoven was barely intelligible to him 
 except in his least characteristic moods. But Spohr set 
 himself in a very marked way to emphasise illustration. 
 To many of his symphonies he gave definite names, and 
 made it his endeavour to carry out his programme con- 
 sistently. The well-known " Weihe der Tone " is a case 
 in point. He meant originally to set a poem of that 
 title by Pfeiffer as a cantata, but finding it unsuitable he 
 wrote the symphony as an illustration of the poem, and 
 directed that the poem was to be read whenever the 
 symphony was performed. Moreover, he endeavoured to 
 widen the scope and design of the symphony to carry out 
 his scheme, with eminently unsatisfactory results, as far 
 as all the latter part of it is concerned. His " Historical 
 Symphony" has a similarly definite object, though not 
 so close an application ; as it was merely a very strange 
 attempt to imitate the styles of Bach and Handel, Mozart 
 and Beethoven in successive movements. More decisively 
 to the point is his symphony called " The Worldly and 
 Heavenly Influences in the Life of Man," in which the 
 heavenly influences are represented by a solo orchestra, 
 and the worldly by an ordinary full orchestra. The 
 general idea is very carefully carried out, and the heavenly 
 influences are made particularly prominent in the early 
 part, and apparently succumb to the power of the 
 worldly orchestra towards the end. Another symphony 
 of Spohr s is called "The Seasons," which is a very 
 favourite subject, and also a very suitable one, for 
 true musical treatment. Weber was naturally on the 
 same side, both on account of his romantic disposition 
 and the deficiencies of his artistic education. His one 
 successful instrumental work, on a large scale, the 
 Concertstiick for pianoforte and orchestra, deliberately 
 represents a story of a knight and a lady in crusading 
 times. The inference suggested is even stronger in the 
 
302 MUSIC. 
 
 ease of Mendelssohn, who was ultra-classical by nature, 
 but gave names and indicated a purpose or a reason for 
 the particular character of all his best symphonies — The 
 Eeformation, the Italian, and the Scotch, Even the 
 symphony to the Lobgesang has a very definite and 
 intelligible relation to the cantata which follows; while 
 as far as musical characterisation is concerned, the over- 
 ture and scherzo in the Midsummer Night's Dream music 
 are among the most vivid things of modern times. 
 
 To all appearance the line which Berlioz took is even 
 more decisive. But important as it is, the fact of his 
 being a Frenchman reduces its significance a little. The 
 French have never shown any talent for self-dependent 
 instrumental music. From the first their musical utter- 
 ance required to be put in motion by some definite idea 
 external to music. The great Parisian lute-players wrote 
 most of their neat little pieces to a definite subject; 
 Couperin developed considerable skill in contriving little 
 picture-tunes, and Eameau followed in the same line later. 
 Tlie kernel of the Gallic view of things is, moreover, per- 
 sistently theatrical, and all the music in which they have 
 been successful has had either direct or secondary connec- 
 tion with the stage. Berlioz was so typical a Frenchman 
 in this respect that he could hardly see even the events of 
 his own life as they actually were ; but generally in the 
 light of a sort of fevered frenzy, which made everything — 
 both ups and downs — look several times larger than the 
 reality. Some of his most exciting experiences as related 
 by himself are conceived in the spirit of melodrama, and 
 could hardly have happened • as he tells them except on 
 the stage. This was not the type of human creature of 
 whom self-dependent instrumental music could be ex- 
 pected ; and it is no wonder that when he took to experi- 
 menting in that line of art he made it even more theatrical 
 than ordinary theatrical music ; because he had to supply 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 303 
 
 the effect of the stage and the footlights and all the 
 machinery, as well as the evolutions and gesticulations of 
 the performers, b}- the music alone. His enormous skill 
 and mastery of resource, brilliant intelligence, and fiery 
 energy were all concentrated in the endeavour to make 
 people see in their minds the histrionic presentation of 
 such tit histrionic subjects as dances of sylphs, processions 
 of pilgrims, and orgies of brigands. Even the colossal 
 dimensions of his orchestra, with its many square yards 
 of drum surface, and its crowds of shining yellow brass 
 instruments, is mainly the product of his insatiable 
 theatrical thirst. It imposes upon the composer himself 
 as much as it imposes upon his audience, by looking so 
 very big and bristling to the imagination. But though 
 it makes a great noise, and works on the raw impression- 
 able side of human creatures, and excites them to an 
 abnormal degree, the effect it produces is not really so 
 imposing as that of things which make much less show — 
 for instance the opening of Beethoven's Bb Symphony, 
 which requires only seven different instruments to play it, 
 and is all pianissimo. The means are in excess of the 
 requirements ; or rather what should be means become 
 requirements, because the effect is made by the actual 
 sound of the instruments, and often not at all by the 
 music which they are the means of expressing. And 
 this aspect of Berlioz's work is even more noteworthy 
 in relation to modern musical development than the fact 
 that he uniformly adopted a programme for his instru- 
 mental works. He was a man of unusually excitable 
 sensibility, and the tone of instruments, like colour, 
 appealed to him more than any other feature in music. 
 He was also a man of literary tastes, and had no inconsider- 
 able gifts in that line, and was more excited by the notion 
 of what music might be brought to express than by the 
 music itself. The result of such influences and predis- 
 
304 MUSIC. 
 
 positions, was to impel him to endeavour to express literary 
 or theatrical ideas in terms of colour and rhythm. He 
 was the first composer who emphasised the element of 
 colour to such an extent ; and so strong was his predis- 
 position in this direction that it can easily be seen that he 
 often speculated in effects of colour quite independently 
 of the musical ideas ; which he afterwards evolved to fit 
 into the colours. As a painter might cover his canvas 
 with the strangest tints he could devise, and work them 
 up into a subject-picture or a landscape afterwards. But 
 quite independent of these very marked peculiarities in his 
 character, his genius and originality are incontestable. 
 When the spirit of a situation like the opening scene of 
 I'aust, or Margaret's meditation in the prison, inspired 
 him wholesomely, he was capable of rising to very high 
 and genuinely musical conceptions. 
 
 The sum total of his work is one of the wonders of the 
 art — unique in its weirdness and picturesqueness ; and 
 notable for the intense care with which every detail that 
 ministers to effect is thought out. Not only are the scores 
 very complicated in respect of the figures and rhythms of 
 the actual music ; but they are full of minute directions as 
 to the manner of performance ; extending to the putting of 
 wind instruments in bags and playing drums with sticks 
 with sponge at the end, and many other original contriv- 
 ances. The tendency to exaggeration is all of a piece with 
 the high tension of his nervous organisation ; but inasmuch 
 as the whole object is to intensify characteristic expression 
 in every, conceivable manner, his work is very noteworthy 
 as an illustration of the general tendencies of modern art 
 since Beethoven. His methods have not found any very 
 conspicuous imitators, though some very successful French 
 composers have learnt a great deal from him in many ways. 
 Indeed the modern -French have more natural gift for 
 colour and a greater love for it than for any other depart- 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 305 
 
 ment of art. It appears to express most exactly their 
 peculiarly lively sensibility; and their passion for it, and 
 for what they call chic, has enabled them to develop in 
 recent times a style of orchestration which is quite their 
 own, and is generally very neat, graceful, finished, and 
 telling, especially for lighter kinds of music and for opera. 
 Even that very serious and reserved branch of art, the 
 oratorio, was influenced by the tendencies of modern art, 
 and gained a new lease of life through the development of 
 richer means of effective expression. The oratorio had 
 almost collapsed after the time of Handel and Bach, for 
 the universal domination of Italian operatic style affected 
 it more vitally than any other branch of art. The growth 
 of the singularly perverted taste for having church music 
 in the same style as opera, with set arias for " prima 
 donnas " at what might be expected to be extremely 
 solemn moments, and the emptiest and baldest common- 
 place harmonisation in place of the old polyphonic choral 
 music, affected oratorio almost fatally. For though ora- 
 torio was not necessarily a part of any ecclesiastical 
 function, its associations were of a religious order, and the 
 style was closely assimilated to that of the various works 
 written for church use. But it could not afford to be 
 as empty as either church music or opera, for it stands 
 mainly on its own footing ; and if the music is not in- 
 teresting in itself, there is neither scenic effect, nor action, 
 nor the glamour of an ancient ceremonial to help it 
 out. Other conditions told in the same direction; for it 
 is probable that people did not use performances of ora- 
 torios quite so much as operas for fashionable gatherings 
 and gossip; and if the music was tiresome they were 
 bound to become aware of it. So the formality of the 
 arias which were introduced, and the graceful futility of 
 the Italian style in general, had full effect, and oratorios 
 fell completely into the background. People would not 
 
 u 
 
3o6 MUSIC. 
 
 listen to things in the lofty style of Bach's Passions, 
 and so composers were driven to write things that 
 were not worth listening to at all. Composers like Philip 
 Emmanuel Bach, who tried to put good work into their 
 oratorios, wasted their efforts ; for even they had to put 
 in some of the usual arias, and the conventional stiffness 
 of that form counterbalanced the parts of their works 
 which were of superior quality. 
 
 It was not until operatic art had had the benefit of 
 Gluck's reforms and Mozart's improvements, and the arts 
 of orchestration had been substantially founded upon 
 definitely modern lines, that a revival became possible. 
 Quite at the end of the eighteenth century the ap- 
 pearance of Haydn's Creation serves as a sort of land- 
 mark of the new departure. It is full of obvious traces 
 of operatic influence in the forms of the movements and 
 the style. But the sincere peasant-nature of the great 
 composer gave a special flavour even to the florid and con- 
 ventional airs, which distinguishes them from the ordinary 
 types, and gives them a characteristic ring which the 
 world was not slow to recognise. Moreover, his experience 
 of Handel's choral work while in London inspired him to 
 treat his choruses in a more animated style than usual, and 
 his great skill and experience in orchestration enabled 
 him to make the most of that important element of effect ; 
 and so, after a long period of coma, the oratorio form was 
 felt to have come to life again. The traces of operatic 
 style are equally apparent in Beethoven's Engedi, but the 
 dramatic character and picturesqueness of some of the 
 details quite distinguish it from earlier works, though it 
 is by no means among the great master's most happy 
 productions. The emancipation from Italian operatic 
 influence becomes more complete in Spohr's works of 
 this kind. Being a Protestant, he escaped the influence of 
 the Italianised music of the Ptoman Church, and learned 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 307 
 
 to see things in the same sort of light as J. S. Bach. His 
 treatment of the choral portions of his works is much 
 more like what such work ought to be ; and there 
 was just sufficient dramatic sense and sentiment in his 
 disposition to enable him to deal witli his subjects char- 
 acteristically and consistently ; while his very excep- 
 tional gifts as a master of orchestral effect placed in his 
 hands one at least of the most prominent of the new 
 resources which brought about the revival of this form 
 of art. The impulse to cultivate oratorio took special 
 hold of Protestant countries, and those which were the 
 homes of the higher orders of instrumental music — such 
 as the symphony and various forms of chamber music ; 
 and the first important crisis in the modern story of 
 oratorio is undoubtedly centred in the work of Men- 
 delssohn in that department. He was one of the earliest 
 of modern musicians to become intimate with J. S. Bach's 
 work, and to a certain extent to understand it. His 
 insight was keen enough to see the wonderful interest 
 of the Passion-music type, and the possibility of adapting 
 it to modern conditions ; while Bach's intensely earnest 
 style served him as an inspiring example. His critical 
 feeling was subtle enough to hit the true standard of style, 
 just poised half-way between the strict clearness and 
 reserve of instrumental music and the loose texture of the 
 dramatic style ; and his scheme proved so generally suc- 
 cessful that it has served most composers as a model ever 
 since the appearance of Elijah and St. Paul. The works 
 are so well known that it is hardly necessary to point out 
 the degree in which they make for expression rather than 
 for mere technical effect. To many people they have long 
 formed the ideal of what such expression ought to be. 
 Mendelssohn undoubtedly emphasised melody, but by no 
 means to the exclusion of other means of expression. 
 He was one of the few composers to whom, in his best 
 
3o8 MUSIC. 
 
 moments, all the resources of art were equally available. 
 His choral writing was the best that had been seen 
 since Handel and Bach, and for mastery of orchestral 
 effect he had no real superior in his time. His harmony 
 is full of variety and sufficiently forcible ; and his facility 
 in melody quite unlimited. He applied his resources 
 almost to the highest degree of which he w^as capable in 
 this line of art, and it naturally followed that his solu- 
 tion of the problem of oratorio has satisfied the constant 
 and exacting scrutiny of most musicians ever since. 
 
 To make this the better understood it will be as well to 
 consider shortly what are the conditions which govern 
 the style and scheme of oratorio. The essence of the 
 situation is the object to present a dramatic story in 
 musical setting without action. The absence of scenic 
 accessories and of all such things as are conveyed to the 
 mind and feelings through the eyes, has drawn the form 
 in the same direction as abstract instrumental music ; 
 for people are more critical about details when their 
 whole attention is concentrated on the music than when 
 it is distracted by other elements of effect. So that 
 oratorio has been found to require more definite and 
 clear forms and more distinct articulation in minutiie 
 than opera. In opera slovenly workmanship has gene- 
 rally been preferred by the public to artistic finish which 
 bores and distracts them from the play. In oratorio 
 slovenly workmanship or faulty designing cannot long pass 
 without being observed. And moreover the conditions 
 are more favourable for careful and scrupulous artistic 
 work. The absence of action relieves the stress of 
 necessity to keep the music continuously going. In opera 
 the action is impeded and weakened by breaking up the 
 music into disconnected pieces, however finished and 
 beautiful they may be in detail ; but in oratorio it is a 
 distinct advantagje to have breaks that rest the mind, and 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 309 
 
 even to emphasise points in the movements themselves 
 by occasional and discreet repetition. So that it is not 
 only necessary to make design clear and artistic workman- 
 ship thorough, but the situation actually gains by the use 
 of set forms which render such treatment possible. On 
 the other hand, in point of style and dramatic force 
 oratorio is much more limited than opera. Even posi- 
 tively vulgar music is sometimes defensible in connection 
 with the stage when a character is presented in the 
 drama who would not be completely represented in the 
 music associated with him without some suggestion of his 
 vulgar side. And a much more undisguised use of frank 
 appeals to the unsophisticated animal side in man has 
 always been tolerated, even generally welcomed, in operatic 
 matters. But in oratorio such things would soon betray 
 their artistic falseness. The ignoble has very often to be 
 dealt with on the stage, but in the music of the concert- 
 room the responsibilities of a great and serious form like 
 oratorio cut composers off from everything that is not in 
 a high sense dignified and elevated. But as a compensa- 
 tion the resources of oratorio are much more elastic. In 
 opera the attention is centred upon the individual singers 
 and their stage fortunes; and the chorus, who cannot 
 learn anything at all complicated by heart, are little 
 better than lay figures. But in oratorio the prominence 
 of the soloists is immensely toned down, and is more on a 
 level with the other elements of effect ; and this form of 
 art is in no respect more strongly distinguished from all 
 other branches of music than by the inevitable prominence 
 of that democratic element the chorus.^ 
 
 In the oratorio of the eighteenth century the chorus 
 generally had a very perfunctory share in the work. 
 
 ^ It is perhaps worth while to remark in passing that the element of 
 the chorus has always thriven best in societies and branches of society 
 with very strung democratic energies ; while music of the soloists is the 
 delight of the courtly, fashionable, and plutocratic branches of society'. 
 
3IO MUSIC. 
 
 They had to sing things which were intended to be 
 inspiring, but were in reality quite mechanical — such 
 things as formal theorists' fugues, and movements con- 
 sisting of mere succession of chords, with a great deal of 
 dull note-repetition to fit the syllables, and no indivi- 
 duality in the parts at all — such as the passage "Jam 
 plebis devote canentis ima est vox, exaudi precantes 
 exaudi," &c., in Mozart's "Splendente te." The com- 
 prehensive change of the whole aspect of the chorus is 
 one of the most significant features of modern art ; and 
 nothing emphasises more signally the change from the 
 formal to the spiritual. Composers did not always take 
 a perfunctory view of the possibilities of chorus in the 
 formal age, as Mozart's splendid conception of "Eex 
 tremendffi majestatis " testifies ; but as a rule the choral 
 body was a mere heavy aggregate of figures with lungs 
 and throats whose humanity was merged in a submissive 
 crowd. The modern chorus becomes more and more like 
 an organised group of human beings with human passions 
 and feelings, and with collective ways of expressing them, 
 which are as near as the circumstances allow to what 
 human beings might be expected to adopt in the dramatic 
 situations in the oratorios. The choruses of Baal's priests 
 behave and sing in a way which conveys the impression 
 that they are meant for Baal's priests and not for lay 
 figures; and in one of the finest of recent modern ora- 
 torios the choruses of angels and of devils sing passages 
 which express the characteristic impulses of angelic and 
 diabolic natures to a nicety. This recognition of the 
 personal nature of the constituents of a chorus was pre- 
 figured very strongly in Bach's choral works, and also 
 frequently in Handel's ; but the development of orchestral 
 music and of the resources of general dramatic effect 
 have so enhanced the opportunities of composers that the 
 chorus tends more and more to be the centre of interest 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 311 
 
 in such works — and as choral singing is the department of 
 music in which the largest number of people can take 
 an active share, it is all of a piece with the interlacing 
 of the endless phases of cause and effect which conduce 
 towards important results, that the development of the 
 methods of art which make chorus singing interesting in 
 detail, and identify those who sing in them as human 
 beings should coincide with the great growth of demo- 
 cratic energy which marks the present age. And in such 
 respects the forms of secular choral music, such as odes 
 and cantatas, which are cast on the same general lines as 
 oratorios, and are controlled by absolutely the same con- 
 ditions of presentation, tend to become even more impor- 
 tant and comprehensive than oratorio itself. There is 
 nothing more ideally suited to the inward nature of music 
 than the presentation, in the closest and most character- 
 istic terms, of great reflective and dramatic poems and 
 odes by genuine poets ; and for such purposes the chorus 
 is ideally suited. The declamatory method which is grow- 
 ing up and increasing makes every member of the chorus 
 take a share in the recital of the poem ; and the practice 
 of choral singing may yet become a happier means for the 
 diffusion of real refinement of ndnd and character among 
 large sections of the people than the world has hitherto 
 ever had the fortune to contrive. For a composer who 
 has enough cultivation and refinement of mind to appre- 
 ciate great poems, and commensurate mastery of the arts 
 of choral music and instrumentation, may emphasise the 
 beauties of a poem and bring out its meaning far more 
 effectually than any amount of commentary and explana- 
 tion. This is eminently a case which illustrates the value 
 of the rich accumulation of resources of various kinds, and 
 the wide facilities which they offer to modern composers ; 
 for till comparatively lately the range of design and the 
 power of composers to wield varieties of means so as to 
 
312 MUSIC. 
 
 make the form intelligible was so limited, that unless 
 poems were constructed purposely to fit into conventional 
 types of musical form, they could not be effectively set. 
 But since Beethoven has shown how various are the means 
 of making a work of musical art coherent, systematic and 
 intelligible, and other composers of the modern school 
 have discovered how to adapt various means of expression 
 to the requirements of musical form, there need be but 
 few poems which are in a mood adapted for music that 
 will not admit of an effectual treatment. And the advan- 
 tages composers now enjoy are so copious that there is 
 little excuse for their adopting the feeble resource which 
 once was no universal, of repeating words and sentences 
 without reference to their importance ; for with increased 
 range of means of expression and design poems can per- 
 fectly well be presented in conformity with the poet's 
 intentions. 
 
 The same conditions which make possible the treat- 
 ment of poems on a grand scale of this kind, with all 
 the splendid resources of orchestration and choral effect, 
 have brought about the profuse cultivation and diffusion 
 of the typical modern song ; in which the music is brought 
 into close relation to the poems set to an extent which was 
 altogether unknown, and indeed impossible, in any less 
 elaborately organised artistic system. Songs there have 
 been at all periods in history. Solo song is the thread 
 that runs from end to end of the story ; but it is only 
 in late years that a system has been devised which is 
 elastic enough to follow every turn of the poet's thought, 
 every change of his mood, every subtlety of his wit, and 
 every beauty of his diction. Till comparatively recent 
 times the scheme of song as a setting of poetry was tune 
 and tune only. Tune can be admirable, and can express 
 a good deal when properly dealt with ; but it is not very 
 comprehensive, and the same tune cannot adequately 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 313 
 
 represent different moods unless the performer has great 
 skill in putting extra expression into it wliich is not 
 necessarily there. A genuine singer of folk-tunes takes 
 unlimited liberties with them. He makes them fast or 
 slow at will — agitated or quiet — loud or soft — alters the 
 accents and the rhythms, and even the length of the 
 notes. There are still in modern times many public 
 singers who like to have their songs as empty as possible, 
 in order that they may put in all the expression for them- 
 selves. But a composer cannot be satisfied with such 
 conditions, and wants to put in for himself the expression 
 which the words convey to him ; and to have singers who 
 can fall in with his feeling and make their art serve to 
 interpret what is worth expressing, instead of making what 
 does not want any interpretation at all seem to be worth 
 it by their art. 
 
 In old days composers did not trouble themselves much 
 about the poems which they set. They regarded them as 
 a collection of syllables which admitted of being used for 
 a catchy tune. When the poet for expressive, or struc- 
 tural, or rhythmic reasons slightly altered the disposition 
 of the accents, the musician rode roughshod over the diffi- 
 culty it presented to him, and presuming that his tune 
 was of more importance than the poet's intentions, set 
 short syllables to long notes, and accented syllables to 
 unaccented notes with equal impartiality. Similarly with 
 any change in the mood of the words. The relation of 
 the poem to the music was almost ignored, except in a 
 very general sense. This was especially the case in re- 
 spectable artistic circles. In the music of the people 
 the words counted for a good deal, and plebeians liked to 
 hear them. But in respectable circles the situation was 
 much the same in songs as in operas of the formal period. 
 There were exceptional occasions now and then when 
 composers paid close attention to the words, but as a rule 
 
314 MUSIC. 
 
 the object was to make a nice piece of melodious music 
 rather than to make it characteristic, or in any way to 
 represent the intention of the poet. The Italian domi- 
 nation was a little in fault here also ; for people who did 
 not understand the language, but liked the music the 
 great singers sang, got into the habit of thinking that 
 the words were of no consequence in other things as well 
 as Italian arias. Songs had a better chance out of the 
 range of that sort of civilisation, and in quarters where 
 democratic conditions or national predispositions prevailed, 
 the means for adequately interpreting poems as solo songs 
 improved. Composers saw how to make the harmonisation 
 of a tune alter its character, and how to make their accom- 
 paniments characteristic of the mood of the poem or of the 
 situation it expressed, instead of adopting purely mechani- 
 cal formulas like an Alberti bass for all sentiments alike. 
 The excessive prominence of the element of mere melody 
 was thereby reduced ; while its capacity for expression 
 was enhanced by the circumstances with which it was 
 surrounded. Then, as harmony was more richly de^ 
 veloped and tonality better understood, modulation came 
 in as an additional means of effect. And so, little by 
 little, under various influences, the final blossoming of 
 the form was approached. 
 
 The culmination was rather sudden when it came, 
 and was favoured by singular circumstances. Schubert is 
 conspicuous among great composers for the insufKciency 
 of his musical education. His extraordinary gifts and 
 his passion for composing were from the first allowed to 
 luxuriate untrained. He had no great talent for self- 
 criticism, and the least possible feeling for abstract 
 design, and balance, and order; but the profusion of 
 his ideas was only limited by lack of time for writing 
 them down. And these ideas were instinct with genuine 
 individual life, not mechanical artificial products like oper^ 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 315 
 
 arias. They had a form and a character which meant 
 something above mere adaptation to formvilas of design. 
 In instrumental music he was liable to plunge recklessly, 
 and to let design take its chance. The thirst in him was 
 for expression. And when he looked at a manuscript 
 of Beethoven's, and saw the infinite labour of rewriting 
 again and again to get all the climaxes and changes of 
 harmony and progressions of all sorts exactly in their 
 right places from every point of view, he shook his 
 head and doubted whether such labour was worth while. 
 With him, perhaps, it would not have been worth while, 
 for he is hardly likely to have developed enough per- 
 ception in that direction to know where to stop or where 
 to press on. But this was the ideal nature for modern 
 song writing. That form of art did not require any great 
 scope of intellect or self-control. The poems he set had to 
 supply him with the design, and his receptive mind, as it 
 were, spontaneously reproduced in musical terms the im- 
 pression which they made upon him. The wonder is that 
 he could find such varieties of characteristic expression so 
 soon after the formal period. " Gretchen am Spinnrade " 
 was written in 18 14, and the Erl Konig in 181 5, within 
 six years after the death of Haydn, and even before Beet- 
 hoven's Ninth Symphony. But they are both instinct 
 with the full measure of vitality in every part ; and are 
 absolutely complete representatives of the modern spirit 
 of musical expression. Harmony, rhythm, colour, tonality 
 — all minister to the full utterance of the poems as well 
 as melody. In the Erl Konig the vivid portrayal by the 
 accompaniment of the rage of the storm is familiar to 
 every one. But the subtlety of instinct is even more 
 remarkable in less obvious directions. For instance, if 
 people's sense of tonality had not become so developed 
 by his time the skilful device of beginning the question 
 " Wer reitet so spiit durch Nacht uud Wind ? " upon a 
 
3i6 MUSIC. 
 
 secondary harmony would have been merely obscure ; and 
 the modulation to a different key from the opening in the 
 second line of the song would have been yet more so. 
 Here a highly developed feeling for key is made use of for 
 purposes of expression. The question and answer which 
 give the clue to the spirit of the song are isolated, so as to 
 make them stand out from the context. Then again, in- 
 stead of having a tune for the solo voice like earlier songs, 
 the vocal part is so exactly a reproduction of what a good 
 reciter might do in declaiming, that each rise and fall 
 seems to belong inherently to the words. Its melodic 
 significance is much more the result of its accompani- 
 ment than of the solo part itself. When a more definitely 
 tuneful phrase makes its appearance, it comes because it 
 is so particularly suitable to the moment ; as when the 
 Erlking is made to wheedle the child with promises of 
 flowers and pretty games. The characters of the several 
 speakers are perfectly identifiable throughout, notwith- 
 standing the ceaseless rush and turmoil ; and the changes 
 of moods are perfectly conveyed without any break in 
 its continuity. The musical portrayal gains in intensity 
 as the song proceeds, and is finally concentrated into the 
 characteristic passage in the bass just at the end, where it 
 goes stamping upwards till it arrives at a point that is 
 purposely obscure in relation to the key of the song, so 
 as to accentuate the cadence and isolate the d(^nouement. 
 The rush and turmoil suddenly cease, and the consumma- 
 tion of the tragedy is conveyed in the mood of awe which 
 is as near as possible to silence. And, just as in the 
 passage quoted (on p. 292) from Beethoven's Appassionata, 
 the very tension of the situation gives the cadence all the 
 requisite degree of impressiveness to round off the design 
 into completeness. This is indeed one of the most signi- 
 ficant instances of the relation between expression and 
 desim in modern art 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 
 
 V7 
 
 The wonderful " Gretclien am Spinnrade" is dealt with 
 in precisely the same manner. It is unified by the sugges- 
 tion of the spinning-wheel m tlie accompaniment, and the 
 perfect management of the harmonic scheme of the music 
 gives perfect freedom to the treatment of the words. How 
 vivid such a situation can be made in musical terms may 
 be illustrated from the treatment of the words " Und 
 ach, sein Kuss ! " 
 
 m 
 
 SiHH 
 
 ■P ^- 
 
 -P-^- 
 
 Und 
 
 ach 
 
 ^^jj; 
 
 lis 
 
 sSs?t 
 
 
 
 W 
 
 i 
 
 w^ 
 
 --d—^- 
 
 :i=^ 
 
 1 1 
 
 The rise to the highest emotional point, with the acutely 
 sensitive harmonies enforcing the complicated mood of 
 the moment; the pause in the spinning and then the 
 sudden drop to the silence of reflection — the broken 
 fragments of the characteristic spinning accompaniment 
 — which might from one point of view suggest the sobs 
 and the difficulty of getting back to the spinning again ; 
 and the exact adjustment of the harmony to the desperate 
 sadness of the mood. Every resource is thus made use 
 
3i8 MUSIC. 
 
 of to emphasise the expression. And so it is with numbers 
 of other songs which will bear the closest analysis ; especi- 
 ally when the poems happen to be fine enough to inspire 
 fine music and close and consistent treatment. 
 
 In the gigantic mass of Schubert's songs there is neces- 
 sarily a large quantity that is of no great value — that 
 is even flat and pointless. But this is all of a piece 
 with the spirit of the new age which he prefigured so 
 ripely. His aims were in a sense speculative. He had 
 no preconceived idea of the form in which to put his 
 utterances ; he only felt that he had to start from a given 
 point of tonality and get back to it. If the thought of 
 the poet suggested modulations which were not too 
 copious or too ill distributed to be intelligible, the result 
 was a success ; if the poet's imagery was too flat and his 
 thought too mechanical, or on the other hand too turgid 
 and too indefinite, the chances were in favour of a failure. 
 Schubert had the good fortune to have some truly superb 
 poems to inspire him ; and even in lower standards, when- 
 ever any " local colour" or strong human characteristics 
 can be associated with the words, his mind would fasten 
 on them and make them the cue for his manner and the 
 matter he gave to his instrument. 
 
 It is very significant that with a divine gift of melody 
 he rarely condescends to rely upon that alone. The 
 greater number of his melodies gain their very expressive 
 character through his harmonisation. He instinctively 
 understood the relation of harmony to melody, and its 
 power of emphasising definite expression at a moment; 
 where melody would have to express a thing — if it could 
 do it at all — by a long phrase. It is also characteristic 
 of the time that his melodies are often constructed of 
 figures which are very definite and decisive in themselves. 
 The articulation is sometimes almost as clear as in Beet- 
 hoven's subjects. Mozart, and the Italians among whom 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 319 
 
 he represents the highest type, usually made long meander- 
 ing passages of melody with no very definite articulation. 
 The true Teuton aiming at concentration of expression 
 compresses his thought into figures which are specially 
 definite and telling. They become the nuclei by which he 
 indicates the spirit of his work. The process of figure 
 development is especially characteristic of instrumental 
 music, because in it rhythm helps the concentration and 
 definition; and the use of such characteristic figures in 
 the instrumental part of songs is a very conspicuous 
 feature in Schubert's work and that of all other great 
 song- writers ; but it is also characteristic in a lesser degree 
 of the finest vocal melody. 
 
 The development of song art after Schubert's time 
 is mainly notable in respect of the application of new 
 resources as they come into being ; and the special atti- 
 tude towards poetry taken by the composer. Schumann, 
 as a man of exceptional cultivation, highly imaginative, and 
 closely in sympathy with poetry, was of the ideal type 
 to follow in Schubert's steps. He was gifted with more 
 of the familiar Teutonic disposition to reflect and look 
 inward than Schubert, whose gaiety of the Viennese 
 type generally kept him in touch with the outward aspect 
 of things. There is more passion and depth and sensi- 
 bility in Schumann, but less of the gift of portrayal. 
 Schumann excelled in the things that are direct utter- 
 ances of inner feeling. ]\Iany phases of the impulses of 
 love find most vivid expression with him, which Schubert 
 could not have touched. " Du meine Seele," " Ich grolle 
 nicht," are moods which are eminently characteristic of a 
 later phase of human musical sensibility than Schubert's, 
 and help to fill up the whole circuit of song types ; which 
 is still further enriched by the remaining great German 
 song-writer of the present day, Johannes Brahms. The 
 three between them fill up almost the whole range of the 
 
320 MUSIC. 
 
 higher type of song-writing. Numbers of other successful 
 sonjg-writers there are — and unsuccessful ones — who fully 
 understand what an opportunity the association of a solo 
 voice with an instrumental accompaniment affords for 
 definite and close characterisation. And composers of 
 different nations impart the flavours of Slav, English, 
 Norwegian, and French to their songs, but make them, if 
 they have any sense, on the same general terms as the great 
 Germans. Each national flavour lends a special interest 
 to the product, if the product is a sincere and genuine 
 musical utterance ; but the methods upon which they 
 are constructed remain as they were with Schubert and 
 Schumann. 
 
 The advantage of the song branch of art is that 
 the expressive resources of music are applied for pur- 
 poses which the words make plain. Where the words 
 are thoroughly musical, and the composer particularly 
 sensitive and skilful, the music fits every instant of the 
 lyric, and makes the words glow with intensified meaning. 
 In some ways the other principal branch of domestic 
 music labours under the apparent disadvantage that its 
 exact meaning is often left obscure. Even when piano- 
 forte pieces are identified with ideal subjects by titles, 
 composers do not very often attempt to emphasise the 
 details of their working in the mind ; and such realistic 
 devices as were popular in former days to depict "The 
 Battle of Prague," and similarly exciting events, are re- 
 cognised by all the world as laughable. Unconsciously 
 the development of the musical world's sense of criti- 
 cism tends to arrive at the truth, that though realism is 
 admissible as a source of suggestion, the object of the 
 expressive power of music is not to represent the out- 
 ward semblance of anything, but to express the moods 
 which it produces, and the workings of the mind that 
 are associated with them. When Beethoven calls a 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 321 
 
 movement "Am Bach," he justifiably uses tlie ripple 
 of the water as his accompaniment. But the ripple 
 does not make the sum total of the effect, and is not the 
 aim of the movement ; it only forms the musical atmos- 
 phere or medium in which the expressive material is 
 embodied. The little disjointed fragments of figure 
 which float on the rustling sound of the water are, as 
 it were, broken ejaculations of happy contentment, which 
 gather into volume at length with the full sweep of pure 
 delight expressed in the melody : — 
 
 cres. 
 
 i 
 
 r^^^-^. 
 
 In such a movement, indeed, Beethoven's power of giving 
 utterance to human feeling seems even to be intensified 
 by associating it with a little realism. And it may at 
 once be granted that a little of such realism is sometimes 
 a help to the composer, for it keeps his moods in tune ; 
 but it is also a dangerous weapon to handle, and every 
 one is conscious in a moment if the subordinate relation 
 of realistic to inward presentation is exceeded. 
 
 These conditions help to explain the peculiarities of the 
 course of one important department of modern music. The 
 pianoforte has become one of the most familiar objects of 
 domestic life, and occupies the position at one time held 
 by the lute, at another by the harpsichord and clavichord. 
 It is eminently a practical instrument, and can be made 
 to serve for the wildest excesses of vulgarity as well as for a 
 very tolerable amount of fine and noble music j which gives 
 it a great advantage over previous instruments from a 
 purely practical point of view. The lute was slow moving, 
 soft and delicate ; it could neither rage nor rattle. Tlie 
 harpsichord could rattle, and tinkle counterpoint, and 
 present fine effects of harmony, and give a picturesque 
 sound ; but it was only moderately efficient for rhythm 
 
322 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 and cantabile. The pianoforte, lacking certain beauties 
 which both the earlier instruments possessed, is infinitely 
 more efficient for every kind of characterisation. It com- 
 bines common sense with a very tolerable capacity for 
 becoming poetical. It puts a wide range of musical 
 expression into the hands of one performer, and enables 
 him to present music in all the phases of harmony, poly- 
 phony, colour, melody and rhythm which have become 
 necessities of modern music. It is the compendium of 
 musical performance, and as such is most apt for domestic 
 use. Its sphere of public activity, the great concert 
 room, is secondary to this ; and is the mere outcome of 
 the need for giving a large general public the opportunity 
 of hearing celebrated performers. It is rather its position 
 as the chosen instrument of intimate home life which has 
 induced composers to write so much for it ; and the con- 
 sciousness that its real function is to deal with things 
 intimately has had considerable influence upon the style 
 of music written for it ; especially in the earher stages of 
 pianoforte music. The intimate music of home life is 
 that which people like to have always with them. It is 
 the music that they like to dwell upon, and to hear again 
 and again as the true presentation of human feeling, and 
 as finished and refined works of art. The purest conceiv- 
 able ideal of such intimate music is to be found in Bach's 
 " Wohltemperirte Clavier." But that lacks the modern 
 sensibility, the modern luxury of tone, and the phases 
 which represent those developments of harmonic design 
 and colour which have become part of modern musical 
 life. Later composers have aimed at supplying all varieties 
 of tastes with pianoforte music which is for home con- 
 sumption; and, inasmuch as this implies dealing with 
 characteristics at close quarters, and addressing them- 
 selves to an infinite variety of small groups of individuals, 
 the circumstances have produced a wider range of char- 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 
 
 32^ 
 
 acteristics in pianoforte music than in any other branch 
 of the art. What people like to have at home is the 
 true test of their standard of refinement. The diversity 
 is obviously immense ; ranging from Bach and Beethoven 
 to mere arrangements of popular items from the latest 
 Italian opera, or the buffoonery of nigger minstrels. But 
 this only emphasises the theory of constant differentia- 
 tion, and growth of diversity of character in such things. 
 For in these days nearly every taste can be satisfied. 
 
 To come finally to the working of the influences which 
 have made modern pianoforte music what it is under these 
 circumstances. In Beethoven's work the world felt that 
 the high water mark of art and expression in sonata form 
 had been reached. Certain expansions of it, no doubt, 
 were possible ; and in such branches as quartetts, trios, 
 and other forms of pianoforte chamber music, there still 
 is vitality. But in essentially pianoforte music it was not 
 worth while to do again what had been done as well as 
 seems humanly possible. Moreover, composers have be- 
 come conscious that the sonata form is spread rather wide, 
 and is best suited for rather special occasions ; and further, 
 that it is not quite perfectly suited to many types of thought 
 which are quite fit to be treated musically, though not at 
 such great length. And so there has grown up a common 
 consensus of opinion to explore new possibilities. And here 
 men of various types have necessarily taken various lines. 
 There were all sorts of ways in which new departures 
 might be made. Some men delight in neatness of design, 
 some in ardent expression, some in ingenuity, and some 
 in display. All types found their exponents. Schubert 
 left many beautiful little movements in very characteristic 
 vein ; Field made an important mark with his nocturnes ; 
 and Mendelssohn came very prominently before the world 
 in a similar line with his "Lieder ohne Worte," which 
 rightly took a very comprehensive hold upon the artistic 
 
324 MUSIC. 
 
 public through their thoroughly refined character and the 
 finished qualities of their art. It is patent to all the 
 world that these last are totally different in form as 
 much as expression from sonatas. Their title admirably 
 expresses them, and the more so if it be remembered 
 that "Song" was coming to mean something vastly 
 different from the old conception ; and implied a work of 
 art in which all the factors— melody, harmony, figure, 
 rhythm — combined to the common end. Under such con- 
 ditions, when the name Song has become almost inappro- 
 priate, a " Song without words " was not such an anomaly 
 as it would have been in less developed stages of art. Men- 
 delssohn, however, as was natural in his days, rather 
 emphasised the melody which is the counterpart of the 
 absent voice, and thereby somewhat restricted his resources 
 of expression ; so his work may he said to lean in the formal 
 direction more than many later productions. 
 
 Of conspicuously different type were the wild theories 
 of a certain group of enthusiasts, whose eagerness to solve 
 artistic problems was in excess of their hold upon the 
 possibilities and resources of art. They emphasised un- 
 duly the expressive aims of Beethoven, and thought it 
 possible to follow him in that respect without regard to 
 his principles of design ; and sought to develop a new line 
 of art by the use of clearly marked musical figures, which 
 were to be presented in an endless variety of guises in 
 accordance with some supposed programme. The scheme 
 recognised the expressive aims of music to the fullest 
 possible extent, and might have come to a more successful 
 issue but for two circumstances. One of these was 
 that through taking the superficial theorists' view of 
 sonata form to represent all the facts, they entirely 
 overlooked the deeper principles, and rejected those 
 deeper principles along with some of the superficial con- 
 ventions of the theorists. And this rendered the failure 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 3^5 
 
 of their scheme inevitable until they arrived at a better 
 understanding of the situation. The second circumstance 
 was the accident that they were closely connected with 
 the most advanced school of technicians ; indeed, one of the 
 foremost representatives of their views was the greatest 
 pianoforte virtuoso of modern times ; and the outcome of 
 this connection was that their reforming efforts were 
 completely drowned and extinguished by the flood of 
 ornamental rhetoric to which the abnormal development 
 of pure technical facility in performance gave rise. Nearly 
 all the energy of composers of this section of humanity 
 was expended in finding ways to make scales and 
 arpeggios sound more astonishing than they used to do 
 when they were played in the old-fashioned ways ; and 
 further, of finding opportunities for showing off such 
 futile dexterities. It so happens that their root theory of 
 working up figures and bits of tune into programme move- 
 ments adapts itself well to the requirements of display. 
 It is only people of inferior organisation who are taken in 
 by such empty extravagance of barren ornament ; and for 
 people of that type tunes out of operas which they already 
 know, or familiar popular tunes, are the most intelligible 
 forms of musical material. So, when a composer of this 
 school addressed himself to his task of showing off the 
 new kinds of scales and arpeggios, he had only to collect 
 a few familiar tunes and intersperse them with all the orna- 
 mental resources of which he was master, and the scheme 
 was complete. Curiously enough, though works of such 
 kind are totally worthless intrinsically, the skill which 
 the composers developed in technique materially widened 
 the resources of effect which thereby became available for 
 better composers to use. In that sense the development 
 of technique, and of the effect which comes of it, is of 
 great historical importance ; and his achievements in that 
 direction give Liszt a noteworthy position quite apart 
 
336 MUSIC. 
 
 from the actual quality of his musical effusions. He, 
 indeed, summed up a great period of development of 
 pianoforte technique, and put the crown on that branch 
 of music. 
 
 However, the result of technical development has not 
 been all gain. It has been carried to such an excessive 
 extent that pianoforte music has been rather overbur- 
 dened. A faulty tradition has got into the very marrow of 
 this branch of art, and a composer has to address himself 
 so much to technical effect that there is little vigour left 
 over for genuine expression. 
 
 But by the side of the school of virtuosi, and in touch 
 with it, the spirit of Chopin has laid a spell upon musical 
 people all the world over, and has coloured a singularly 
 wide range of musical activity in all countries. His cir- 
 cumstances were specially suited to the necessities of the 
 moment. The Poles are peculiarly different from the 
 more happily regulated races of the western part of 
 Europe ; and the fact of having been unfortunate in their 
 relations with their most powerful neighbours has in- 
 tensified nationalist feeling. Such feeling, when repressed, 
 generally bursts into song, and very often into very ex- 
 pressive song ; and in Chopin's time everything combined 
 to enhance the vividness and individuality of Polish music. 
 Chopin, with Polish blood in his veins, and brought up in 
 pure Polish surroundings, absorbed the national influences 
 from his early years. Under such circumstances a national 
 dance becomes a vital reality of more than ordinary calibre. 
 A mazurka was a rhythmic expression of the national fer- 
 vour. A polonaise symbolised the exaggerated glories of 
 the Polish chivalric aristocracy. Music which was so 
 vivid and direct, and had such a touch of savage fervour, 
 was not of the kind to go satisfactorily into sonatas. 
 There needed to be very little intellectuality about it, 
 but a great deal of the rhythmic element and of poetic 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 327 
 
 feeling, and these things Chopin was eminently fitted to 
 supply. On the other hand, his sensitiveness was acute 
 even to morbidity ; and being less gifted with force and 
 energy than with excitability, he applied himself instinc- 
 tively to the more delicate possibilities of his instrument. 
 With him ornamental profusion was a necessity ; but, 
 more than with any other composer except Bach, it 
 formed a part of his poetical thought. With most of 
 the player-composers who cultivate virtuoso effects the 
 brilliant passages are purely mechanical, and have little 
 relation to the musical matter in hand. With Chopin 
 the very idea is often stated in terms of niost graceful 
 and finished ornamentation, such as is most peculiarly 
 suited to the genius of the instrument. Beethoven had 
 grown more and more conscious of the suitableness of 
 very rapid notes to the pianoforte as his experience in- 
 creased, and he had tried (in a different manner from 
 Chopin) to achieve the same end. But the reserve and 
 grandeur of his style did not admit of the sort of orna- 
 ments that Chopin used; for these are made peculiarly 
 vivid by profuse use of semitones and accessory notes of 
 all kinds, which do not form part either of the harmony or 
 the diatonic scale in which the passages occur. It gives 
 a peculiarly dazzling, oriental flavour to the whole, which, 
 joined with a certain luxurious indolence, a dreaminess of 
 sentiment, and a subtlety of tone, makes Chopin's the ideal 
 music for the drawing-rooms of fairly refined and pros- 
 perous people. But there is enough of genuine humanity 
 and dramatic feeling to make his works last. There are 
 even passages of savagery, such as those in the polonaises 
 in Ab and F# minor, which sound like some echo from a 
 distant country, and serve to rouse people just enough in 
 relation to the rest of those fine and stirring works. The 
 " l!allades " and so-called Sonatas and Scherzos convey a 
 rich variety of moods and effects on a considerable scale, 
 
328 MUSIC. 
 
 while the nocturnes, and some of the prehides and mazurkas, 
 exactly hit the sensuous side which is so highly developed 
 in modern life. Fortunately with Chopin the general 
 departure from sonata lines was no result of theory, but 
 the spontaneous action of his nature. His music was the 
 spontaneous utterance of a poetic and sensitive disposition, 
 in the terms ideally suited to the instrument whose inner- 
 most capacities he understood more thoroughly than any 
 one else in the world. Design of a classical kind was 
 comparatively unimportant to him. He did not know 
 much about it. But he most frequently cast his thoughts 
 in simple forms, such as that of the nocturne — which 
 Field had brought successfully before the world just before 
 his time — or the ordinary forms of the dance. When he 
 struck out a form for himself, as in some of the best 
 preludes and studies, it was like a poem on new lines. But 
 the methods by which they were uniiied were usually the 
 same as those employed by J. S. Bach. Only in respect of 
 their much more vivid colour, and intensity of feeling for 
 modern expression, do they differ from the far more austere 
 master. Of the degree in which expression is emphasised 
 rather than form there can hardly be question. But when 
 the form is original it is extraordinarily well adapted to the 
 style of the expression; as, for instance, in the preludes 
 in E minor and D minor, where the form and expression 
 are as closely wedded as in the most skilful and condensed 
 poetical lyric. But such types of thought could not be 
 expanded into great schemes of design. His largest 
 works in original forms are the Ballades, and these are as 
 unlike sonatas as any. The whole collection of his works 
 is an illustration of the wide spread of possible variety 
 which the new departure in the direction of expression, 
 after the formal age, made inevitable. 
 
 Utterly different as was the nature of Schumann, his 
 work in general tends in the same direction ; and, as it 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 329 
 
 were, fills up the other half of the circle which Chopin 
 left comparatively vacant. Schumann was a typical Teuton 
 in his introspective disposition, his mystic imaginings, his 
 depth of earnestness. The rhythmic side of music did not 
 appeal to him with anything like the elastic, nervous 
 intensity with which it excited a Pole, but rather with 
 the solemnity and orderliness of a German waltz. His 
 department was rather the type of music which belongs 
 to the reflective mind ; and the types of thought, both 
 emotional and noble, which appeal to a cultivated in- 
 tellectualist. As it was not intended to make music his 
 life's occupation, his education in his art was not as com- 
 plete and thorough as that of many other composers ; but 
 it brought him into closer contact with the expression 
 of human feeling in poetic forms and in general litera- 
 ture, and forced him to take an unconventional view of 
 his art. He saw from the first that something different 
 from sonatas was wanted ; and though he did write a few 
 sonatas, the one that is most like the old sonatas is rather 
 weak in design though brilliant in effect ; while the sonata 
 in Fir minor is a deliberate attempt to distribute the 
 ideas in a manner totally diff'erent from the old sonata 
 order. In forms which aff'orded some fresh opportunities 
 for treatment and effect, as in the quintett and quartett 
 in Eb, he is very much more successful in contriving 
 something like the old sonata forms ; but in the main 
 his works for the pianoforte are attempts to open up a 
 new path, and to increase the variety of types of form and 
 expression in music. To a great many of his epigrammatic 
 musical poems he affixes names — such as the familiar 
 " Warum," " Triiumeswirren," " Grillen ; " the numbers 
 of Carnival figures, the beautifully finislied and neatly 
 expressive Kinderscenen ; in some cases he gives no names 
 to individual numbers, but makes it very clearly felt that 
 he has a decided poetic purpose, as in the Kreisleriana 
 
330 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 and the Davids-biindler. Moreover, the general names he 
 gave to these sets supply the clues to those who know his 
 particular lines of reading, and his special enthusiasms at 
 particular times in his life, which indicate what he meant 
 to express by them. In other cases he gives general names, 
 such as Novelletten, to imply new experiments in form 
 without so much of an acknowledged poetic purpose. In 
 the case of the fantasia in C, he tried to develop a 
 work on a scale fully equal to sonatas, but totally dif- 
 ferent in character and principle of design. In most of 
 these works his idea seems to be to give the full sense 
 of design by the juxtaposition of ideas which illustrate 
 one another in a poetical sense, and to contrive their 
 connection by means which are in consonance with the 
 spirit of the ideas, and sometimes by making some 
 characteristic musical figure into a sort of text. The 
 experiments are so far novel that it is almost too much to 
 expect of them to be always entirely successful. But at 
 least in the last movement of the fantasia, the principle 
 of design and the development of the whole scheme is 
 as successful as the ideas themselves are beautiful and 
 poetical. 
 
 Schumann, like Beethoven, revels in a mass of sound. 
 But his sound is far more sensuous and chromatic. He 
 loved all the pedal it was possible to use ; and had but 
 little objection to hearing all the notes of the scale sound- 
 ing at once. He is said to have liked dreaming to himself, 
 by rambling through all sorts of harmonies with the pedal 
 down; and the glamour of crossing rhythms and the 
 sounding of clashing and antagonistic notes was most 
 thoroughly adapted to his nature. A certain confusion of 
 many factors, a luxury of conflicting elements which 
 somehow make a unity in the end, serve admirably to 
 express the complicated nature of the feelings and sensi- 
 bilities and thoughts of highly organised beings in modern 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES. 33^ 
 
 times. Chopin's style has coloured almost all pianoforte 
 music since his time, in respect of the manner and treat- 
 ment of the instrument ; and many successful composers 
 are content merely to reproduce his individualities in a 
 diluted form. But Schumann has exerted more influence 
 in respect of matter and treatment of design. With him 
 the substance is of much greater significance, and he 
 reaches to much greater depths of genuine feeling. There 
 must necessarily be varieties of music to suit all sorts 
 of different types of mind and organisation, and Chopin 
 and Schumann are both better adapted to cultivated and 
 poetic natures than to simple unsophisticated disposi- 
 tions. That is one of the necessities of differentiation; 
 and music which is concentrated in some especial direc- 
 tion can only meet with response from those who possess 
 the sensitive chord that the music is intended to touch. 
 There are natures copious enough to have full sympathy 
 with the dreamers as well as the workers ; but as a rule 
 the world is divided between the two. People who love 
 much imagery and luxury of sensation do not want to 
 listen to Cherubini's best counterpoint, and those who 
 only love energy and vital force do not want to listen to 
 the love scenes in the Walklire. But as illustrating the 
 profusion of sensations, the poetic sensibility, and even 
 the luxury and intellectuality, the passion and the eager- 
 ness of modern life, Chopin and Schumann between them 
 cover the ground more completely than all the rest of 
 modern pianoforte composers put together. 
 
 For greatness of expression and novelty of treatment 
 Johannes Brahms stands out absolutely alone since their 
 time. Disdaining the ornamental aspects of pianoforte 
 music, he has had to find out a special technique of his own ; 
 and in order to find means to express the very original and 
 powerful thoughts that are in him, he resorts to devices 
 which tax the resources of the most capable pianists to the 
 
332 MUSIC. 
 
 utmost. Moreover, he taxes the power of the interpreter 
 also ; which is a thing all virtuosi pianists are not prepared 
 for. There is something austerely noble about his methods, 
 which makes thought and manner perfectly consistent; 
 and though it cannot be said that his line of work is so 
 easily identifiable with the general tendency towards 
 definite expression, he has produced many works that are 
 decidedly not on the line of sonatas — such as his Ehapsodies 
 and Clavier-Stiicke ; all instinct with the definiteness and 
 decisiveness of individuality which mark him as an out- 
 lying representative of the great family of Teutonic musical 
 giants. 
 
 The aspect of pianoforte music in general seems to indi- 
 cate that composers are agreed that the day for writing 
 sonatas is past, and that forms of instrumental music must 
 be more closely identified with the thoughts which are 
 expressed in them. The resources of harmonic and poly- 
 phonic effect, combined with rhythm and melody, are 
 much richer than the resources of simple accompanied 
 melody ; and the growth of fresh resources is by no means 
 at an end. There is plenty of room for characteristic 
 work. Composers have begun to import national traits 
 into their pianoforte compositions with perfect success; 
 and the identifying of a nation's essential character with 
 its music can be aptly and very considerably extended 
 in pianoforte music as in other branches of art. The 
 field for characteristic musical expression is certainly 
 not exhausted ; and composers who have any gift for de- 
 vising consistent and compact forms which are perfectly 
 adapted to the mood of their ideas, have still room to 
 achieve something new in the most interesting modern 
 phases of art. The sonata type was no doubt adapted to the 
 highest and noblest kind of musical expression ; and it is 
 not likely that anything so noble and so perfect in design 
 as Beethoven's work will be seen in the world for a long 
 
MODERN TENDEXCIES. 333 
 
 while. But even if illustrations have not so elevated a 
 dignity as the works of a great artistic period, they may 
 serve excellent purposes, and be in every way admirable, 
 and permanently interesting and enjoyable, if they are 
 carried out with fair understanding of the true necessities 
 of the situation, and with the sincerity of the true artistic 
 spirit. 
 
 One of the most obvious features of the modern condi- 
 tion of music is the extraordinary diversity of forms which 
 have become perfectly distinct, from symphony, symphonic 
 poem, and opera, down to the sentimental ballad of the 
 drawing-rooms. And in all of them it is not only the 
 type of design which has become distinctive, but the style 
 as well. For instance, one of the branches of music 
 which is still most vigorously alive is chamber music, 
 which consists mainly of combinations of varieties of solo, 
 stringed, or wind instruments, with pianoforte, in works 
 written on the lines of sonatas. Its present activity is 
 partly owing to the fact that it has rather changed its 
 status from being real chamber music, and is becoming 
 essentially concert music. The instruments are treated 
 with less delicacy of detail than they were by Beethoven, 
 with a view to obtain the sonority suitable to large rooms. 
 The style has therefore necessarily changed to a great 
 extent; but nevertheless it is as closely differentiated from 
 the style of all other branches of art as ever. A toucli of 
 the operatic manner instantly betrays itself as unsuitable, 
 and so do many of the devices of orchestration. Thus there 
 is an average mood and style of idea which composers have 
 instinctively adopted for each branch of art, so that they 
 are distinct not only in technical details but in spirit. And 
 even in the highest branches of art, represented by the 
 noble symphonies of Brahms, which illustrate the loftiest 
 standard of style of the day, the significant change from 
 the old ideals is noticeable. For the aim is but rarely after 
 
334 MUSIC. 
 
 what is equivalent to external beauty in music. What 
 beauty is aimed at is beauty of thought, the beauty of 
 nobleness, and high musical intelligence. Even beauty of 
 colour is but rarely present ; but the colours are always 
 characteristic, and confirm the reality of the powerful 
 and expressive ideas. So the rule holds good, even in 
 the most austere lines, that the latest phase of art is 
 characterisation. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 
 
 Gluck's theories of reform had strangely little effect upon 
 the course of opera for a long while. The resources of 
 art were not sufficiently developed to make them fully 
 practicable, and even if they had been, it is quite clear 
 that in many quarters they would not have been adopted. 
 The problem to be solved in fitting intelligible music to 
 intelligible drama is one of the most complicated and 
 delicate ever undertaken by man ; and the solution is 
 made all the more difficult through the fact that the 
 kind of public who frequent operas do not in the least care 
 to have it solved. Operatic audiences have always had 
 the lowest standard of taste of any section of human 
 beings calling themselves musical. They generally have 
 a gross appetite for anything, so long as it is not intrin- 
 sically good. If the music is good they have to be forced 
 to accept it by various forms of persuasion ; and a com- 
 poser who attempts any kind of artistic thoroughness has 
 to look forward either to failure, or to the disagreeable 
 task of insisting on being heard. It follows that progress 
 towards any ideal assimilation of the various factors of 
 operatic effect has to be achieved in spite of the taste of 
 the audiences, and by the will and determination which 
 is the outcome of a composer's conviction. Nations vary 
 very much in their capacity to take sensible views of 
 things, as they do in their capacity for enjoying shams 
 and taking base metal for gold ; so a composer's oppor- 
 tunities of emancipating himself from convention, and of 
 
336 MUSIC. 
 
 solving the problems lie sees to be worth solving, are much 
 better in one country than another. It is conspicuously- 
 true in operatic matters that the public decide what they 
 will have, unless a man is strong enough to force them to 
 listen to what they have at first no mind for ; and even 
 then the public have, as it were, a casting vote. 
 
 It cannot be pretended that all the causes of the 
 different aspects of opera in different countries can be 
 conclusively shown ; but the general and familiar facts 
 are strangely in accordance with the general traits of 
 national character which are commonly observed. The 
 Italians appear to have been the most spontaneously 
 gifted with artistic capabilities of any nation in Europe. 
 In painting they occupy almost the whole field of the 
 greatest and most perfect art ; especially of the art pro- 
 duced in the times when simple beauty of form and 
 colour was the main object of artists. In music too 
 they started every form of modern art. Opera, oratorio, 
 cantata, symphony, organ music, violin music, all sprang 
 into life under their auspices. But in every branch they 
 stopped half way, when the possibilities of art were but 
 half explored, and left it to other nations to gather the 
 fruit of the tree which they had planted. Numbers of 
 causes combine to make this invariable result. One of 
 the most prominent is curiously illustrated by the history 
 of opera. The Italians are generally reputed to be on 
 the average very receptive and quickly excitable. The 
 eagerness of composers for sympathetic response is found 
 in the same quarters as quick receptiveness of audiences 
 to the music that suits them. The impressions which 
 are quickly produced do not always spring from the most 
 artistic qualities, but the Italian composer cannot take note 
 of that; he is passionately eager for sympathy and applause, 
 and is impelled to use all the most obvious incitements to 
 obtain them, without consideration of their fitness. The 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 337 
 
 way iu which Italian opera composers resort to the most 
 direct means to excite their audiences is a commonplace 
 of everyday observation. The type of opera aria, which 
 was poHshed and made more and more perfectly adapted 
 to the requirements of the singer from Scarlatti's time 
 to Mozart's, was ultimately degraded under the influence 
 of this eagerness for applause into the obvious, catchy 
 opera tunes which are the most characteristic features 
 of the works of the early part of this century. The good 
 artistic work which used to be put into the accompani- 
 ment, and was often written in a contrapuntal form by the 
 composers of the best time, degenerated into worthless 
 jigging formulas, like the accompaniments to dance tunes, 
 which have neither artistic purpose nor characteristic rele- 
 vancy to the situation. The blustering and raging of 
 brass instruments when there is no excuse for it in the 
 dramatic situation, and such tricks as the whirling Eos- 
 sinian crescendo (which is like a dance of dervishes all 
 about nothing), jjroduce physical excitement without any 
 simultaneous exaltation of higher faculties. These and 
 many more features of the same calibre are the fruits of the 
 excessive eagerness in the composer for immediate sym- 
 pathetic response from his audience. He has no power to 
 be self-dependent, or take his own view of what is worthy 
 of art or what is not, or of what represents his own iden- 
 tity. The thirst for the passionate joy of a popular 
 triumph must have its satisfaction. What men constantly 
 set themselves to obtain they generally succeed in obtain- 
 ing; and the objects of Italian opera composers have 
 been abundantly achieved. The furore of Italian operatic 
 triumphs, such as the Rossini fever after Tancredi, sur- 
 passes anything recorded or conceivable in connection 
 with any other branch of art. The opera tunes of Bellini, 
 Donizetti, and the early works of Verdi have appealed to 
 the largest public ever addressed by a musician; and that 
 
338 MUSIC. 
 
 is the sum of their contribution towards the modern 
 development of their art. In respect of the details of 
 workmanship of which their public were not likely to 
 take much notice, such as the orchestration, they were 
 careless and coarse ; and the advance made from the 
 standard of Mozart all round until recent times has been 
 made backwards. 
 
 The Italians emphasised the musical means of appeal- 
 ing to their audiences from the first ; the French, on 
 the other hand, always had more feeling for the drama, 
 and stage effect, and ballet. Though the stories of Eoland, 
 Armide, Phaeton, and the other subjects Lulli used are 
 somewhat formal in their method of presentation, they 
 are made quite intelligible, and the situations are often 
 very good, and very well treated.. In that sense, indeed, 
 Lulli's work is more genuine than Scarlatti's. The same 
 aspect of things continues throughout the history of French 
 opera. French audiences seem to have been capable of 
 being impressed by the pathos, tragedy, and human 
 interest and beauty of the situations. Their minds seem 
 to have been projected more towards the subject than 
 the music. Gluck's dramatic purpose found a response 
 in Paris that he failed to find even in Vienna, where 
 Italian traditions prevailed. Things would seem to have 
 bid fair in the end for French opera. When Italians 
 came under French influence they did good work. French 
 influence helped Cherubini to achieve his great operatic 
 successes. Perhaps the enigmatical relation between 
 his reputed character and his actual work may have 
 been somewhat owing to Parisian influence. Personally 
 he appeared to be endowed with aU the pride, reserve, 
 and narrowness of a pedant, yet his Overture to Anacreon 
 is as genial as the ancient poet himself may be supposed 
 to have been, and expresses all the fragrance and sparkle 
 of the wine of which he sangf with such enthusiasm. He 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 339 
 
 ■was cold and hard and devoid of sympathetic human 
 nature, but nevertheless he devised the tragic intensity 
 of his opera Medea with unquestionable success. 
 
 In later days the influence exerted by French taste 
 upon Rossini is even more notable and pregnant with 
 meaning. After his wild triumphs in Italy he came into 
 contact with the French operatic traditions, and they 
 at once brought out whatever there was of real dramatic 
 sincerity in his constitution. William Tell, the one work 
 which he wrote for a Parisian audience, puts him in quite 
 a new light ; for under the influence of a more genuinely 
 dramatic impulse even his artistic work improved ; the 
 orchestration becomes quite interesting, the type of 
 musical ideas is better, and they are better expressed, 
 and the general feeling of the whole is more sincere and 
 rich in feeling. 
 
 In light comic operettas and operatic comedies the acute 
 sympathy of the French with the stage produced the hap- 
 piest results of all. In this line the French took their cue 
 from the Italian opera buffa, which had been introduced a 
 little before Gluck's time, and became very noticeable by 
 reason of the ferment of controversy that it produced. 
 Once rooted in the soil and cultivated by French composers, 
 it was found to be even more at home than in Italy. The 
 quick wit, and the sense of finish — even the element of 
 the superficial which the French cultivate with so much 
 interest and care — all told to make the jjroduct peculiarly 
 happy. A special style was developed, which in the 
 hands of many composers was singularly refined, neat, 
 and perfectly artistic. The music is merry, and in the 
 true comedy vein without descending to buffoonery: 
 carelessly ga}^, without being inartistic in detail. In the 
 early days no doubt the resources of art were not very 
 carefully used, and however excellent the spirit and wit 
 of Gretry, it cannot be pretended that he attempted to 
 
340 MUSIC. 
 
 deal with the inner and less obvious phases of his work 
 with any artistic completeness. He professedly contemned 
 musicianship, and in a sense he was right. The typical 
 pedant never shows more truly the inherent stupidity 
 of his nature than when he obtrudes conscious artistic 
 contrivance into light subjects. But the perfect mastery 
 of artistic resource does not obtrude its artistic contriv- 
 ances. It uses them so well that they are perfectly 
 merged in the general ensemble. The fact that Bach 
 was the most perfect master of artistic contrivance did 
 not prevent his writing perfectly gay dance tunes; and 
 Mozart's careful education in the mysteries of his craft 
 enabled him to write his comic scenes in a fully artistic 
 manner, without putting up sign-posts to tell people 
 when to look out for a piece of artistic skill. In that 
 respect Gretry was wrong, and his successors much 
 wiser. For men like Auber and Gounod, and other still 
 living representatives of this branch of art, use the re- 
 sources of their orchestra with most consummate skill 
 at the lightest moments; just hitting the balance of 
 art and gaiety to a nicety; while the rounding and 
 articulation of their phraseology, the variety and clear- 
 ness of their ideas, and the excellence of their design, 
 up to the point required in such work, is truly admirable. 
 In no other branch of music is the French genius so 
 completely at home and happy. Even in the coarser 
 types of the same family of operetta, which have become 
 rather popular in recent times, the composers who set 
 the licentious and nnwholesomely suggestive dialogue at 
 least caught something of the spirit of their more re- 
 fined brethren, and showed a skill of instrumental resource 
 and a neatness of musical expression and treatment which 
 are surprising in relation to such subjects. Whenever the 
 play aims at real human interest, and the capacity of the 
 composer for looking at it as human interest is equal to the 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 341 
 
 demand, Frencli effort, even in the more serious branch of 
 opera, produces eminently sincere and artistic results. But 
 in the more serious subjects it has beeu generally happiest in 
 very reserved phases like those illustrated by Cherubini and 
 Mehul. The dangerous susceptibility of the French nature 
 to specious show and mere external effect seems peculiarly 
 liable to mislead them when it comes to great or impos- 
 ing occasions. The French are so devoted to " style " that 
 they omit to notice that it is a thing which may be very 
 successfully cultivated to disguise inherent depravity and 
 falseness. It seems to be chiefly owing to this weakness 
 that the result of their enthusiasm for musical drama does 
 not come nearer the complete solution of the problem of 
 opera. At all events, the most imposing result obtained 
 in the direction of French opera is strictly in accordance 
 with those characteristics of the nation which have per- 
 sisted so long that they were even noticed by the conquer- 
 ing Romans. 
 
 The influence is apparent even in Lulli's and Rameau's 
 work. The spectacular side is carefully attended to, and 
 forms a conspicuous element in the sum total. Gluck 
 had to submit, and to satisfy the taste to a certain 
 extent, and its effect is even more noticeable in the 
 works of his successor, Spontini. In many ways, how- 
 ever, I'rench influence had an excellent effect upon the 
 latter composer. His operas are singularly full of true 
 dramatic expression; the details of orchestral effect are 
 worked out with marvellous care, and are extremely rich 
 and full of variety for the time when he wrote. The 
 scores are marked almost as fully and carefully as AVag- 
 ner's, and the inner and outer phrases are thoroughly 
 articulate, and well suited to the instruments used. 
 He wielded all his resources with power and skill — 
 chorus, soloists, and orchestra alike. He saw his dra- 
 matic points clearly, and often rose to a degree of real 
 
343 MUSIC. 
 
 warmth and nobility of expression. But with all these 
 excellencies the tendency to pomp and circumstance of 
 display is unmistakable. The situations are often really 
 fine, but many of them are rather weakened by being- 
 overdone. The coruscations of the long ballets, the pro- 
 cessions, the crowds of various nationalities, and even the 
 very tone and style of much of the music, show clearly 
 which way things are tending. The same specious element 
 of show peeps out now and then in the works of other 
 composers, such as Halevy ; and when ultimately the type 
 of man arrived who knew how to play upon the weak 
 side of French society's susceptibility to display, the true 
 portent arose ; and the crown which was put upon the 
 long development of French grand opera, and embodied 
 most of the results of French operatic aspiration, proved 
 to be very imposing, but not of the most perfect metal. 
 
 Meyerbeer was of the brilliantly clever type of humanity. 
 His gifts were various, and of a very high order. At first 
 he was known as a brilliant pianist, and was famous for his 
 quickness in reading from score. Then, a pianist's career 
 not appearing imposing enough for his aspirations, he 
 conceived the notion of becoming an opera composer. He 
 tried several styles in succession. First he wrote German 
 operas, without success. Then he went to Italy, and wrote 
 operas in the Italian style, and met with a good deal of 
 success. But as even this did not satisfy his aspirations, 
 he inspected the situation in Paris, and seems to have 
 made up his mind that the audience there was just suited 
 for him. Indeed the Oriental love of display which is 
 so frequently found still subsisting in people of Jewish 
 descent marked out Meyerbeer as essentially the man for 
 the occasion. He is said to have studied things Fi-ench 
 with minute care — both history and manners — and he 
 made his first experiment upon the Parisians in 1831 with 
 Robert le Diable, and achieved full measure of success. 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 343 
 
 At long intervals lie followed it up with further experi- 
 ments — The Huguenots in 1836, Le Prophete in 1849, 
 and so on — till he had built himself a monument so large 
 that if size were any guarantee of durability he would be 
 as secure of perennial honour as Horace himself. 
 
 The fact which is conspicuously emphasised by these 
 works is the gigantic development and variety of the 
 resources of effect in modern times. Meyerbeer thoroughly 
 understood the theatre, and he took infinite pains to carry 
 out every detail which served for theatrical effect. He 
 tried and tested his orchestral experiments again and 
 again with tireless patience. He had L'Africaine by him 
 for at least twenty years, and never got it up to the 
 point of satisfying him, and finally died before it was 
 performed. He was so painfully anxious that his effects 
 should tell that his existence at the time when any new 
 work was in preparation for performance is described as a 
 perfect martyrdom. Beethoven, too, took infinite pains, and 
 wrote and rewrote constantly. But his object was to get 
 his ideas themselves as fine and as far from commonplace 
 expression as possible ; and to get the balance and design as 
 perfect as his own critical instinct demanded. Meyerbeer's 
 object was to make the mere externals tell. He did not 
 care in the least whether his details were commonplace or 
 not. His scores look elaborate and full of work, but the de- 
 tails are the commonest arpeggios, familiar and hackneyed 
 types of figures of accompaniment, scales, and obvious 
 rhythms. Musically it is a huge pile of commonplaces, in- 
 finitely ingenious, and barren. There is little cohesion 
 between the scenes, and no attempt at consistency to the 
 situations in style and expression. No doubt Meyerbeer 
 had a great sense of general effect. The music glitters 
 and roars and warbles in well-disposed contrasts, but the 
 inner life is wanting. It is the same with his treatment 
 of his characters. They metaphorically strut and pose 
 
344 MUSIC. 
 
 and gesticulate, but express next to nothing; they get 
 into frenzies, but are for the most part incapable of 
 human passion. The element of wholesome musical 
 sincerity is wanting in him, but the power of astonish- 
 ing and bewildering is almost unlimited. His cleverness 
 is equal to any emergency. For instance, when a situa- 
 tion requires something impressive, and he has nothing 
 musical to supply, he takes refuge in a cadenza for a 
 clarinet or some other instrument, and the attention of 
 the public is engaged by their interest in the skill of the 
 performer, and forgets to notice that it has no possible 
 relation to the significance of the situation. The scenes 
 are collections of the most elaborate artifices carefully con- 
 trived and eminently effective from the baldest theatrical 
 point of view. But for continuity, development, real feel- 
 ing, nobility of expression, greatness of thought, anything 
 that may be truly honoured in the observance, there is 
 but the rarest trace. He studied his audience carefully, 
 developed his machinery with infinite pains, carried out 
 his aims, and succeeded in the way he desired. No doubt 
 his works are worth the amusement of getting up, and of 
 seeing also, because of the extraordinary dexterity with 
 which the immense resources are wielded ; but it cannot 
 be said that he attempted to face the problem of musical 
 drama at all. In that respect Faust and Carmen are 
 much nearer the mark. In both the types of expres- 
 sion are infinitely more sincere, there is more artistic work 
 in the details, more genuine sense of characterisation, and 
 a much higher gift both of harmony and melody. Even 
 the feeling for instrumental effect is really much finer ; for 
 there is more of real beauty of sound and more indication 
 of ability to use colour to intensify situations. But in the 
 end, neither of these approaches the complete solution of 
 the problem. The traditional formulas of cheaj) accom- 
 paniment, the laxness in the treatment of inner miuutias, 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 315 
 
 the set forms of arias, and the detachable items that only 
 hang together and are not intrinsically continuous, and 
 many other features of convention and habit, prevent 
 their being a completely satisfactory type of musical 
 drama from the highest standpoint. 
 
 Germans were much slower than other nations in find- 
 ing a national type of opera. They learnt very early how to 
 succeed in writing operas for other nations, and surpassed 
 the Italians in their own lines when it was worth doing it. 
 But the discovery of the style and method suited to their 
 more critical aspirations took many centuries. Mozart had 
 done something for the cause in Seraglio and the Zauber- 
 flote. Then there was a pause of many years, till Beethoven 
 at last found a subject which he thought worthy of musical 
 treatment, and gave the world Fidelio. In the interval 
 musical art had advanced a good deal, chiefly through 
 Beethoven's own efforts. He had written his first three 
 symphonies, and got to the end of his "first period;" 
 which implies a considerable development of the resources 
 of real expression. As is natural, it is in the scenes where 
 human circumstances become deeply interesting, and 
 deep emotions are brought into play, that Beethoven 
 is at his best. In the lighter scenes between Marcellina 
 and Jacquino, in Rocco's song, he is less like himself ; and 
 even Pizarro's fierce song rings a little hollow, Beethoven 
 could hardly bring such things within the range of his 
 particular type of expression. But for the more truly emo- 
 tional situations, especially in the prison scene, he wrote 
 the finest and truest music that exists in the whole range 
 of opera. In fact, the whole work is too reserved and lofty 
 to be fit for any but extremely musical audiences, and it has 
 never been a genuine success with the public. JMoreover, 
 though the language of the play was German, and the 
 serious spirit in which the music was written is worthy of 
 the great German's attitude towards music, it was not 
 
346 MUSIC. 
 
 essentially a German subject, and traces of old Italian 
 influence through Mozart are still apparent. It was 
 reserved for a man of far less personality to satisfy the 
 aspirations after true Teutonic music drama. 
 
 The chief advantages of Weber's early years were the 
 opportunities he obtained for getting into touch with the 
 theatre, through his father's eagerness to possess an opera- 
 producing prodigy after the Mozart pattern. He was not 
 especially identified with national sentiments till after 
 Napoleon's failure in the expedition to Moscow. Then, 
 in common with many patriotic enthusiasts, the hope 
 for independence inspired him, and he became the mouth- 
 piece of national feeling in his superb settings of patriotic 
 songs by Korner. These gave him a position which was 
 emphasised by his being appointed successively at Prague 
 and Dresden to organise a genuine Gez^man operatic 
 establishment. Dresden had long been under the domi- 
 nation of the Italians, headed by the conductor Morlacchi, 
 and the constant plotting and opposition which went on 
 even after his appointment only served to intensify his 
 patriotic feeling. This at last found its full expression 
 in " Der Freischiitz," which was brought out at Berlin in 
 1 82 1, and was immediately taken by the Germans to 
 their hearts. It was indeed the first successful fruit of 
 their aspirations, and its out and out German character 
 in every respect gives it a great prominence in the history 
 of the art. The style is consistently German almost 
 throughout; the tunes are the quintessence of German 
 national tunes and folk songs ; the story is full of the 
 mystery and romance which the Germans love, and is 
 about real German people with thoroughly German habits 
 and German characters. Apart from that, the musical 
 material and the actual workmanship are Teutonically ad- 
 mirable. Weber's sense of instrumental effect was always 
 very great, but in this work he rose to a higher point than 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 347 
 
 usual. The tones and characteristics of the various in- 
 struments are used with unerring certainty to strengthen 
 the emotional impression. The score is alive in all its 
 parts, not full of dummy formulas and fragments of 
 scales and arpeggios that have no relation to the situa- 
 tion. The various characters are also perfectly identified 
 with the music that they have to sing. Kaspar, the 
 reckless meddler in dangerous magic, was easily drawn ; 
 but the heroine Agathe, and the lighter- spirited Aenn- 
 chen, both also keep their musical identity quite well, 
 even when they are singing together. The scenes are 
 separate, but the final transition to the continuous music 
 of later times is happily illustrated in such a case as 
 Agathe's famous scena, in which a great variety of moods 
 and changes of rhythm and speed and melody are all 
 closely welded into a perfectly complete and well-designed 
 unity. 
 
 In Freischiitz the German tradition of spoken dialogue 
 is still maintained ; the music being reserved for the 
 iutenser moments. In Euryanthe Weber set the whole of 
 the dialogue, and thereby approached nearer to the ideal 
 which the first originators of the form had conceived. The 
 work in other respects keeps the same consistently Ger- 
 man style, and possibly contains finer individual passages 
 than its forerunner ; but the desperate foolishness of the 
 libretto makes the whole almost unendurable, except to 
 people who have the capacity to attend to the music 
 alone and to ignore what is going on on the stage. 
 Weber had a curious inclination for stories of a romantic 
 and chivalric cast, as well as delight in the supernatural, 
 which is probably to be explained by the instinct of a com- 
 poser for finding things out of the hackneyed range of 
 common everyday experience. For light and comic music 
 the familiar dress of everyday life answers perfectly 
 well. It may even accentuate the funnincss of things. 
 
348 MUSIC. 
 
 But when there are highly emotional, serious, heartfelt 
 things to be dealt with, the association of the familiari- 
 ties of everyday life with dialogue passionately sung, 
 becomes too conspicuously anomalous. Thoughts that 
 have any genuine greatness about them do not fit quite 
 easily into commonplace terms. At any rate, Weber tried 
 to escape from such familiarities in his librettos, and had 
 the ill luck to fall into extremes of childish unreality 
 which prevent his two later works being acceptable in 
 more matter of fact times. But the excellence of the 
 musical material, the freedom and breadth with which the 
 scenes are developed without the requirements of musical 
 design interfering in the least with the action, the com- 
 plete achievement of a genuinely Teutonic theatrical style, 
 quite different from the style of classical quartetts and 
 symphonies and such self-dependent music, give Weber a 
 position among the great representatives of musical achieve- 
 ment. Wagner fitly characterised him as most German 
 of the Germans ; and he himself was not a little indebted 
 to him for mastering one of the last points of vantage 
 necessary for the full attainment of the ideal of pure 
 dramatic music. 
 
 Weber's style powerfully influenced his successors, 
 even in domains outside opera ; his supernatural line was 
 followed in something of the same style by Marschner 
 and others, while Spohr plodded on by the side of them 
 writing ojDeras with very little dramatic style about them, 
 but with good feeling for artistic finish and refined effect. 
 But Germans are slow moving as well as tenacious, and act 
 as if they meant to do great things, and knew that great 
 things took time to mature. It was many years before 
 another great stroke for essentially German opera was 
 achieved. German energy was not entirely relaxed, but 
 it was concentrated in the person of Meyerbeer, who was 
 busy writing French grand operas, and was best fitted for 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 349 
 
 that occupation. Wagner, tbough born in Weber's life- 
 time, did not beg-in to put his singular powers to any defi- 
 nite use till nearly twenty years after Weber had passed 
 out of the world. Born of a family of actors, brought up 
 in constant contact with the stage, inspired with dramatic 
 fervour from early years, and passionately devoted to 
 Beethoven and Weber, he had sufficient to impel him to 
 the career of an opera composer. But at first he struck out 
 at random. The impulse in him was mainly dramatic, and 
 only experience could reveal to him what line and style 
 of composition would serve him. His musical education 
 was extremely defective, and his first experiments in opera 
 contained things that were at once feeble and feebly ex- 
 pressed. Many were his changes of position. First he was 
 chorus-master at a theatre at Wurzburg, then conductor 
 at various places ; he wrote several works which were 
 inevitable failures ; and finally with the ardent conviction 
 of his mission, characteristic of his curious personality, he 
 made up his mind to take by storm the central home of 
 the art in the Grand Opera in Paris. Meyerbeer was 
 then in the full plenitude of his glory, and the need of 
 propitiating Meyerbeer's own particular audience probably 
 prompted him to write his grand opera Eienzi in 
 Meyerbeer's style, with all the glitter, blaze of brass, and 
 scenic splendour he could think of. But as far as Paris 
 was concerned his journey there was a failure. His impor- 
 tunities were in vain, and after many weary months he 
 returned to Germany. But meanwhile he had been busy 
 with a new work, Der fliegende Hollander, which, when 
 completed, marked the definite commencement of his real 
 career. The essence of the situation is that Wagner is 
 throughout as much dramatist and master of theatrical 
 requirements as musician. In fact, at first the sponta- 
 neous musical gift was comparatively small ; but the inten- 
 sity of his dramatic and poetic feeling produced musical 
 
3 so MUSIC. 
 
 figures and musical moods in his mind wliicli lie found 
 out by degrees how to express in more and more power- 
 ful and artistic musical terms. The vitality of the Flying 
 Dutchman lies more in the superbly dramatic story than 
 in the music. But at the same time there are movements 
 when the music rises to an extraordinary pitch of vivid 
 picturesqueness and expressiveness. The whole of the 
 overture is as masterly a musical expression of omens 
 and the wild hurly-burly of the elements as possible, and 
 carries out Gluck's conception of an overture completely ; 
 Senta's ballad is one of the most characteristic things 
 of its kind in existence, and hits the mood of the situa- 
 tion in a way that only a man born with high dramatic 
 faculty could achieve ; and the duet between Senta and 
 the Hollander is as full of life and as fine in respect of 
 the exact expression of the moods of the situation and 
 as broad in melody as could well be desired. Eienzi 
 looks back to the past of Meyerbeer, and is comparatively 
 worthless; Der fliegende Hollander looks forward along 
 the way in which Wagner is going to travel, and already 
 embodies traits of melody and particular devices of modu- 
 lation and colour which become conspicuous, with more 
 experienced treatment, in his maturer works. 
 
 His progress from this point was steady and steadfast in 
 direction. Having struck on the vein of old world myths, 
 and found their suitableness for musical treatment, he 
 soon saw the further advantage of using stories which 
 were essentially Teutonic in their source and interest. 
 He wisely chose such as symbolised a great deal more than 
 the mere stories convey, and so have a deep root in human 
 nature and a wider scope. The story of Tannhauser and 
 the hill of Venus, and of Lohengrin the knight of the Holy 
 Grail, each in their way show the growth of his powers of 
 musical resource. Lohengrin is not so vigorous as its pre- 
 decessor, but there are fewer crudities and formalities in 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 351 
 
 it, and fewer traces of an unwholesome influence which 
 made some parts of Tannhauser run very near to vulgarity 
 — splendid as the whole work is. A long time intervened 
 between Lohengrin and Rheingold, the preface to the great 
 mythic cycle — and the step in point of style and artistic 
 management is as wide as the interval of time. He seems 
 to have thought out his scheme more thoroughly. Indeed 
 it may well be doubted if he had any scheme or method at 
 all in the earlier works. In the Flying Dutchman the 
 traces of the old operatic traditions are extremely common. 
 The complete set movements merely holding together 
 only by their ends, the musical isolation of scene from 
 scene, the disconnection of the overture from the open- 
 ing of the drama, and many other points, show that he 
 had as yet by no means made up his mind to break away 
 from the conventional traditions. In Tannhauser and 
 Lohengrin he made the musical texture of the scenes 
 much more continuous, but the long operatic tunes still 
 make their appearance along with many other familiar 
 signs of the old genealogy. The use of the same charac- 
 teristic musical figures in various parts of the works 
 wherever some special personality or characteristic thought 
 or situation recurs, is frequently met with, but the figures 
 are not used with the systematic persistence that is so 
 conspicuous in the later works. It seems extremely pro- 
 bable that it was reflection upon the earlier works, and 
 writing about his artistic theories at the time of his exile, 
 that led him to the uncompromising attitude of the later 
 ones. The impulse which led to the new features in his 
 earlier works was simply his dramatic feeling. He had 
 no theoretic idea of replacing the principles of the old 
 operatic formulas of design by " Leit motive." They 
 were the result of the accident that he was trying to 
 illustrate a dramatic subject in musical terms ; and when 
 any one so essential to the story as the Hollander or 
 
352 MUSIC. 
 
 Lohengrin or Elsa came prominently forward, it was 
 natural to repeat a figure which best expressed their 
 character. It conduced to unity as well as t,o charac- 
 terisation. But it was done unsystematically in the earlier 
 works ; and " Leit motive " only began to pervade the 
 whole texture of his musical material at last in the cycle 
 of " Der Ring des Nibelungeu." 
 
 The change from the earlier works even to Rheingold, 
 the first drama of " The Ring," is as great as the change 
 from Beethoven's earliest symphonies to liis C minor ; and 
 apart from style and materials, the changes are the same 
 in principle. In the Symphony in D No. 2, the manner of 
 expressing the ideas is often very much like that of the 
 earlier generation. Even in the presentation of the first 
 idea there is a certain stiffness and formality, which is not 
 quite like the full-grown Beethoven. It seems to utter 
 the same kind of complacent attitude as is implied in 
 the work of John Christian Bach or Galuppi. But in the 
 C minor the first four ^ f ^^ 
 
 notes are quite enough ^Fj? — ^ — ij~~^~^ 
 to give the mind the *^ ^ 
 
 impression that music has passed into a different region 
 from that of the formal politeness of the previous century. 
 Analogously in Tannhauser there are many passages 
 which have the flavour of Italian opera about them — 
 many that even suggest the influence of Meyerbeer and the 
 Grand Opera. Long passages of melody of the formal 
 type, and frequent traces of things like the relics of rudi- 
 mentary organs, that have not perfectly merged into the 
 rest of the organism. But the first dozen bars of Rhein- 
 gold give indication of quite a different spirit. The object 
 clearly is to express the situation at the beginning of the 
 first act. The depths of the Rhine are there, the swaying 
 waters, darkness. The music is the exact equivalent of 
 the central idea of the situation ; and at the same time it 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 353 
 
 supplies a principle of design without having to fall back 
 on familiar formulas to make that design appreciable. The 
 dramatic conception is formed first, and is then expressed 
 in terms of ai-t which follow every phase and change 
 of mood without having to stop to make the music in- 
 telligible apart from the drama. The principle of treat- 
 ment is the same as in Schubert's great songs, the " Junge 
 Xonne," or the " Erl Konig;" only the scale is larger 
 and the style different. Wagner wrote his own dramas, 
 always with a clear feeling of what was fit to be expressed 
 musically; and as he grew more experienced, he was 
 able to hold all the forces he had to use for dramatic 
 ends more surely in hand, and to control their relations 
 to one another with more certainty. While writing the 
 poems he probably had a general feeling of what the 
 actual music was going to be, just as a dramatist keeps 
 in his mind a fairly clear idea of the scene and the 
 action of the play he is writing ; and as certain general 
 principles of design are quite indispensable in musical 
 works of this kind, he evidently controlled the develop- 
 ment of his stories so as to admit of due spreading of 
 groundwork, and of variety of mood ; and devised situa- 
 tions that admitted of plain and more or less diatonic 
 treatment, and crises which would demand the use of 
 energetic modulation, and so forth. But in reality this 
 requires less restriction than might be imagined ; for the 
 working and changing of moods in a good poem is almost 
 identical with the working and changing of moods adapted 
 for good music. They both spring from the same emo- 
 tional source, only they are different ways of expressing 
 the ideas. As poetry and music approach nearer to one 
 another, it becomes more apparent that the sequence of 
 moods which makes a good design in poetry will also 
 make a good design in music. 
 
 One thing which strikes the attention at once from the 
 
 z 
 
354 MUSIC. 
 
 commencement of "The Ring" is tlie difference in the 
 treatment of the musical material. As has been pointed 
 out before, there is a constant tendency in music to make 
 the details more distinct and definite. The instinctive 
 aim of the most highly gifted composers is to arrive at 
 that articulation of minutiae which makes every part of 
 the organism alive. The type of vague meandering 
 melodies which formed the arias of Hasse and Porpora 
 became far more definite in organisation in Mozart's 
 hands ; the contrast is even greater between their treat- 
 ment of orchestral resources and Mozart's. The very 
 look of the score of Idomeneo is busier than any earlier 
 score; and Mozart made his details more finished and 
 more definite as his view of instrumental music matured. 
 In the next generation the process of defining details 
 progressed very fast in Beethoven's hands. Even in 
 his first sonata the tendency to concentrate his thoughts 
 into concise and emphatic figures is noticeable, and the 
 habit grew more decisive with him as his mastery of his 
 resources improved. The same tendency is shown in almost 
 every department of art. Schubert's accompaniments to 
 songs are often made up of little imclei which express in 
 the closest terms the spirit of the situation, and the way 
 in which he knits them together is a perfect counteqDart, 
 in little, of Wagner's ultimate method. The advantages 
 of the plan are obvious. It not only lays hold of the mind 
 more decisively, but it enables the musical movement to 
 be knit into closer unity by the reiteration of the figures. 
 Wagner, in his earlier works, appears to have realised the 
 importance of condensing the thought into an emphatic 
 figure, as every one knows who has heard the overture to 
 the " Fliegende Hollander," though he did not make much 
 use of such figures in the actual texture of the earlier 
 music. But from the beginning of the Rheingold he seems 
 to have clearly made up his mind not only to condense his 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 355 
 
 representative musical ideas into the forms which serve 
 to fix them in the mind, but to weave them throughout 
 into the texture of the music itself, to dispense with the 
 old formulas of accompaniment, and to use next to nothing 
 except what was consistent and definite. The result is 
 that in the main the texture of the music is something of 
 the same nature as a fugue of l^ach. Wagner often uses 
 harmony as a special means of effect, but in a great 
 measure the harmony is the result of jjolyphony, often of 
 several distinct subjects going on at once, as they used 
 to do in the ancient fugues. This immensely enlarges 
 the range of direct expression, as it is possible by the use 
 of familiar devices, such as accented passing notes and 
 grace notes, occurring simultaneously in different parts, to 
 produce transient artificial chords of the most extraordi- 
 nary descrijDtion. 
 
 
 r¥- r- r n 
 
 Wagner notoriously rejected the conventional rules of 
 the theorists about resolving chords and keeping strictly 
 within the lines of keys, and many other familiar phases of 
 doctrine. He tried to get to the root of things, instead of 
 abiding by the rules that are given to help people to spell 
 and to frame sentences intelligibly. But he by no means 
 adopts purely licentious methods in treatment of chords, 
 nor does he forego the use of tonality — the sense of key 
 which is the basis of modern music — as a source of effect. 
 He did not attempt to define his design by the means 
 required in sonatas and symphonies, because the situation 
 
356 MUSIC. 
 
 did not warrant it ; neither would he submit to the con- 
 ventions which prevented his using certain progressions 
 which he thought the situation required because they hap- 
 pen to mix up tonalities. Many of the progressions which 
 Beethoven used outraged the tender feelings of theorists 
 of his day who did not understand them, and thought he 
 was violating the orthodox principles of tonality. Yet 
 Beethoven's whole system was founded on his very acute 
 feeling for it. He expanded the range of the key as much 
 as he could, and Wagner went further in the same direc- 
 tion. But he is so far from abandoning tonality as an 
 element of design and effect, that he uses it with quite 
 remarkable skill and perception of its functions. When 
 he wants to give the sense of solid foundation to a scene, 
 he often keeps to the same key, even to the same har- 
 mony, for a very long time. The Introductions to Ehein- 
 gold and Siegfried are parallels in this respect, the first 
 almost all on one chord, the second almost all in one key ; 
 and the principle of design is the same in both cases ; 
 consisting in laying a solid foundation to the whole work 
 by rising from the lowest pitch, and gradually bringing 
 the full range of sounds into operation. In the accom- 
 paniment of the ordinary dialogue he is often very ob- 
 scure in tonality, just as J. S. Bach is in recitative ; some 
 instinct prompting them both to avoid the conditions 
 which make the music that approaches nearest to ordi- 
 nary speech seem too definite in regular design. When 
 he wants to express something very straightforward and 
 direct, like the character of Siegfried, he uses the most 
 simple diatonic figures; but when he wants to express 
 something specially mysterious, he literally makes use of 
 the very fact that human creatures understand modern 
 music through their feeling for tonality, to obtain the 
 weird and supernatural effect he wants. For in that case 
 he almost invariably makes his musical idea combine 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 357 
 
 chords which belong to two or more unassimilable tonali- 
 ties, on purpose to create the sense of bewilderment, and 
 a kind of dizziness and helplessness, which exactly meets 
 the requirements of the case. If people's sense of tonality 
 were not by this time so highly developed, such passages 
 would be merely hideous gibberish ; and they often seem 
 so at first. It is just on a parallel with language. A man 
 may often say a thing that is most copiously true which 
 his audience does not see at once, and everybody has 
 experienced the puzzled, displeased look that the audience 
 gives — till, as the meaning dawns upon them, a- cloud seems 
 to pass away, and the look of pleasure is all the brighter 
 for the transition from bewilderment to understanding. 
 Wagner's device stands in the same relation to the musical 
 organisation of the present day as Beethoven's employ- 
 ment of enharmonic transition to that of his time. Men 
 judge such things instinctively in relation to the context. 
 The transition from the first key to the second in Beet- 
 hoven's great Leonora Overture produces the same sort of 
 feeling of momentary dizziness, in relation to the simpler 
 diatonic style of the rest of the music, that Wagner's 
 subtle obscurities do in relation to his far more chromatic 
 and highly-coloured style. It need not be supposed that 
 he deliberately adopted such a device. True composers 
 very rarely work up to a theory consciously, in the act of 
 production ; but they may afterwards try to justify any- 
 thing very much out of the common on some broad 
 principles in which they believe. It is much more likely 
 to have been the fruit of highly-trained instinct that 
 caused Wagner to adopt the same procedure so invari- 
 ably. A familiar example is the musical expression of 
 that really marvellous poetic conception, the magic kiss of 
 the god which expels the godhead from the Valkyrie and 
 makes her mortal. 
 
358 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 
 Even more conspicuous is the figure associated with 
 the " Tarnhelm," the helm of invisibility. But in that 
 case the effect often depends a good deal upon the way in 
 which the figure is taken in relation to a context in an 
 obscurely related key. The motive of the magic ring* 
 is condensed very closely, and is much to the point. 
 
 The death-figure in Tristan is constructed on similar 
 principles, but curiously enough the figure used for the 
 magic love potion, which pervades the whole musical work 
 of that drama, is not of mixed tonality, but only made 
 to seem so by the use of chromatic accessory notes. The 
 opening passage of Tristan is, indeed, peculiarly interest- 
 ing in respect of clearness of tonality, for Wagner uses 
 the same device of sequence (which is the repetition of 
 an identical phrase at different levels) which is familiar in 
 ancient folk-song, in the opening movements of several of 
 Corelli's Sonatas (in just the same position in the scheme 
 of design), at the beginning of Beethoven's E minor 
 Sonata (Opus 91), and in Brahms' Ehapsody, No. 2, 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 359 
 
 where the device is carried to even greater lengths 
 than by Wagner. The subject of the love potion is 
 necessarily puzzling to the mind ; but the use of the 
 sequence gives a sense of orderliness and stability which 
 is clearly essential at the beginning of a great work. 
 The sequence is perfectly familiar in its order, and 
 turns on nearly related keys — first A minor, then its 
 relative major C ; then, taking the same step of a third 
 as the cue, E major, which is the dominant of A, and 
 therefore completes the circuit. And the process keeps 
 things in the right place too, for despite the very close 
 involutions of subordinate secondary tonalities, the system 
 of design in that wonderful Vorspiel is mainly centralised 
 on the relationships of A minor and C, and its general 
 scheme is the same as that of the introduction to Rhein- 
 gold, Siegfried, and Parsifal ; and in Parsifal, moreover, 
 he uses precisely the same device of sequence at the be- 
 ginning, only developing it on a very much wider scale, as 
 suits the solemnity of the subject. It may be concluded, 
 therefore, that Wagner is very far from ignoring tonality. 
 His use of it is different from that of composers of sonatas 
 and symphonies, but he shows a very clear understanding 
 of the various opportunities that it affords for the pur- 
 poses of effect. 
 
 In the use of the effects of tone producible by various 
 instruments (which people for want of a better word seem 
 to have agreed to call colour) he is clearly the most com- 
 prehensive of masters. Instinctively he adopted the true 
 view for his particular work. In old days colours were 
 disposed in relation to one another principally in order to 
 look beautiful. Perugino and Mozart seem much alike in 
 that respect. Gluck used the moderate variety of colours 
 at his disposal to add to the vividness of his situations. 
 Beethoven used colour to the extreme of conceivable per- 
 fection ; and all to the ends of expression, as far as the 
 
36o MUSIC. 
 
 couditions of abstract self-dependent instrumental music 
 admitted. 
 
 Wagner took the uncompromising position of using 
 every colour, whether pure or composite, to emphasise 
 and intensify each dramatic moment, and to complete the 
 measure of expression which is only half conveyed by 
 the outline and rhythmic movement of the musical ideas 
 themselves. The great development of instrumental re- 
 sources gave him enormous advantages over earlier com- 
 posers. The improvement of instruments, the general 
 improvement in the skill and intelligence of players, both 
 served his turn. From the first his excitable nature was 
 particularly susceptible to colour ; but the more his powers 
 matured, the more he used his colours with absolute 
 aptness to the end in view. The composite vividness of 
 the cellos, hautboys, corno inglese, horns, and bassoons at 
 the beginning of the Vorspiel of Tristan, is not more 
 absolutely to the point than the wonderful quietude and 
 depth of solemnity of the tone of the strings alone at the 
 opening of the third act. The magic sound of the horns 
 in the music of the Tarnhelm is not more nor less sugges- 
 tive than the merry cackle of the wood-wind in the music 
 of the apprentices in "Die Meistersinger," or the vivid 
 combination of various arpeggios for strings, with the 
 solemn brass below, and the tinkling of the Glockenspiel 
 at the top, which represent the rising of Loge's flames 
 that shut out Brunnhilde from the world. Even with 
 regard to the honourable old-world devices which have 
 not much place in opera, the requirements of the situa- 
 tions brought out the requisite skill. The art of combin- 
 ing many subjects together, of which theoretic comjDosers 
 make so much, is carried by Wagner to a truly marvellous 
 extent. The texture of the music is often made of 
 nothing but a network of the various melodies and figures 
 which are called "Leit motive," each associated with seme 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 361 
 
 definite idea in the drama. The extent to which this 
 subtle elaboration is carried on escapes the hearer, be- 
 cause it is done so skilfully that it passes unperceived. 
 But it is one of those respects in which the work of art 
 bears constant close scrutiny, as a work of art should, 
 without ceasing to be wonderful. It makes all the 
 difference between the earlier types, when the figures of 
 accompaniment had been only so many tiresome formulas, 
 and the later work in which everything means something, 
 and yet is not obtrusive. The elaboration of all the detail 
 is still subordinate to the general design and the general 
 effect. When a work is faulty in such respects it is 
 because the composer tries to produce all his effect by 
 the multiplicity and ingenuity of his details alone. The 
 importunity of minutise soon makes works on a large 
 scale insupportable. But Wagner's minutire are not im- 
 portunate, because the effect in general is proportion- 
 ately great. The wide sweeps of his sequences, the long 
 and intricate growth towards some supreme climax, the 
 width and clearness of the main contrasts, the immense 
 sweep of his basses, the true grandeur of many of his 
 poetic conceptions, keep the mind occupied enough with 
 the larger aspects of the matter. And though, as in human 
 life, all the little moments are realities, their prominence 
 is merged in the greater events which form the sum of 
 them. 
 
 Wagner's use of the voice part illustrates musical ten- 
 dencies in the same way as every other part of his work. 
 The traditions of solo singing which still persist in some 
 quarters imply that the human voice is to be used for 
 effects of beauty only. The old Italian masters subordi- 
 nated everything to pure vocal effect ; they made the 
 utmost of pure singing, and singing only. Occasional 
 reactions against so limited a view, and in favour of using 
 the human voice for human expression, came up at various 
 
362 MUSIC. 
 
 points in history. Purcell is often a pure embodiment 
 of ill-regulated instinct for expression. John Sebastian 
 Bach's recitatives and ariosos are still stronger in that re- 
 spect. The Italian reaction that followed him was all in 
 favour of beautiful vocal sound and simple intrinsic beauty 
 of melody; but in Schubert the claims of expression again 
 found an extremely powerful advocate. He appealed to 
 human creatures a good deal by means of melody, but much 
 more by his power of general expression. He often produces 
 much more effect by a kind of recitative than by tune. 
 He uses tune when it is suitable, otherwise musical decla- 
 mation. He appeals to intelligent human beings who 
 want music to mean something worthy of human intelli- 
 gence ; and Schumann does eminently the same, though 
 he too knows full well how to express a noble sentiment 
 in a noble melodic phrase. Wagner again takes an atti- 
 tude of "no compromise." The voice has an infinity of 
 functions in music. It may be necessarily reduced to the 
 standard of mere narrative, it may have to utter dialogue 
 which in detail is near the level of everyday talk ; it must 
 rise in drama to the higher levels of dramatic intensity, 
 and it may rise at times to the highest pitch of human 
 ecstasy. For each its appropriate use. The art is not 
 limited to obvious tune on one side, and chaotic recitative 
 on the other, but is capable of endless shades of difference. 
 Wagner makes Mime sing melody because he is a 
 sneaking impostor who pretends to have any amount of 
 beautiful feelings, and has none ; that no doubt is a 
 subtlety of satire ; but otherwise he generally reserves 
 vocal melody for characteristic moments of special exal- 
 tation. That is to say, the actor becomes specially pro- 
 minent when the development of the drama brings his 
 personality specially forward. The human personality is 
 an element in the great network of circumstances and 
 causes and consequences which make a drama interesting 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA. 363 
 
 and no doubt it is tlie most interesting element ; but there 
 is no need that the actor should always be insisting upon 
 his own importanc?, and the importance of his ability to 
 produce beautiful sounds. The human voice is for use, 
 and not only for ornament. People must no doubt learn 
 to sing in a special way in order to do justice to the 
 beautiful old-world artistic creations ; and art would be 
 very much the poorer if the power to give them due 
 effect was lost. But the expression of things that are 
 worth uttering because they express something humanly 
 interesting is much more difficult, and implies a much 
 higher aim. Both objects require a great deal of educa- 
 tion, but the old-fashioned singer's education concerns 
 chiefly mechanical powers; the singer of the genuine 
 music of Bach, Schubert, Schumann, Brahms, and Wagner 
 requires education of the mind as well. 
 
 Of Wagner's general reforms in connection with music- 
 drama this is not the place to speak in detail. His hiding 
 away the unsightly fussy motions of the orchestra under 
 the stage, and his alteration of the arrangements of the 
 theatre, are accessories which do not immediately bear on 
 the musical question here under discussion. His aim in 
 all is to control the multitudinous factors and elements, 
 from small minutite up to the largest massing of combined 
 powers to the ends of perfect expression of his dramatic 
 and poetic conceptions. His personality, and the par- 
 ticular subjects that he chooses, and the manner in which 
 he looks at them, affect people in different ways ; that is a 
 matter apart from the development of resources or the 
 method of applying them. Of the method itself it may 
 be said that it is the logical outcome of the efforts of the 
 long line of previous composers, and the most completely 
 organised system for the purposes of musical expression 
 that the world has ever yet seen. 
 
SUMMAKY AND CONCLUSION. 
 
 The long story of music is a continuous and unbroken 
 record of human effort to extend and enhance the possi- 
 bilities of effects of sound upon human sensibilities, as 
 representing in a formal or a direct manner the expres- 
 sion of man's inner being. The efforts resolve themselves 
 mainly into impulses to find means to produce the effect 
 of design, and to contrive types of expression which are 
 capable of being adapted to such designs. And as the 
 difficulty of coping with two things at once is consider- 
 able, men have generally concentrated their efforts on 
 design at one time, and on expression at another. So 
 that some periods are characterised by special cultivation 
 of principles of form, and others by special efforts in the 
 direction of expression ; and owing to the interlacing of 
 various causes in human affairs, these conditions have 
 generally coincided with conditions of society which are 
 adapted to them. The formal character of the music of 
 Mozart's and Haydn's time agrees very well with the 
 character of society in their time; and when a more 
 vehement type of expression became possible the style 
 agreed well with the character of the time, which was 
 specially marked by that impulse to shake off the old 
 conventions which found its most violent expression in the 
 French Revolution. 
 
 The first steps in the direction of the essentially modern 
 type of music were made when men attempted to improve 
 upon pure melodic music by singing melodies simultane- 
 ously at different pitches. It took an immense time to 
 364 
 
SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION. 365 
 
 produce a satisfactory result in part singing; but by 
 degrees men found out how to vary their bald successions 
 of fifths and fourths by ornamental notes, and to make 
 their various simultaneous tunes move without too hideous 
 a cacophony. They found out how to systematise the 
 result at least so far as to make the closing point bear 
 some relation to the beginning, and to contrive some- 
 thing which had the effect of a cadence. And in the 
 course of some centuries, without making the inner orga- 
 nisation of their movements at all definite in design, they 
 succeeded in stringing harmonies together by means of 
 independent voice parts in such a way as to produce the 
 most purely beautiful sound possible. Things arrived at 
 the first crisis under the influence of the Eoman Church, 
 and almost all music was then written in the same contra- 
 puntal style used in the Church services. 
 
 Then, having apparently exhausted the possibilities in 
 this direction, a new impulse seized upon composers, to 
 apply music more decisively to secular uses, and to find 
 a method of treatment better adapted to secular ideas. 
 They began to employ some of the devices which had been 
 mastered in the way of chord effects in a new way, and 
 gave a solo voice something like musical talking to do. It 
 was like going back to chaos at first ; but they had some- 
 thing to build upon, and as the solo voice-part grew more 
 definite, so did the order of the chord successions. They 
 found out that a chord with one definite set of notes 
 afforded an excellent contrast to another chord made up 
 of a different set of notes, and that certain chords were 
 more nearly allied to one another than others. They also 
 found that the old scales that they had used in ecclesi- 
 astical music were not accommodating enough for the 
 successions of chords they wanted ; and under the in- 
 fluence . of their growing feeling for systematisation of 
 these chords they modified these old modes till they had 
 
366 MUSIC. 
 
 got the tones and semitones in better order for harmonic 
 purposes, and a fair quantity of extra chromatic notes to 
 give variety to their progressions. Music began to ex- 
 pand into a variety of types. Instrumental music began 
 to take a different character from choral music, and 
 secular from sacred vocal music. And by degrees, as the 
 various resources made available by the new arrangement 
 of the scales became better understood, and the devices of 
 the old counterpoint were adapted to the new system, the 
 second great crisis was achieved, in the great works of 
 Bach and Handel, who gave utterance to the new vigour 
 of the Protestant impulses. 
 
 Here again men seemed to have arrived at the highest 
 point possible without another change of method; and 
 they applied themselves to developing new types of 
 design, in which melody and harmony were combined in 
 new ways. Their feeling for the relationships of har- 
 mony enabled them to spread their bases of structure 
 over wider areas, and to obtain effects of contrast by 
 making one long passage represent one key, and another 
 represent a contrasting one ; and by combining various 
 types of contrast into one complete design. The ease 
 with which such a type of design could be handled, en- 
 abled them to make use of other elements of effect. The 
 element of colour began to come in very noticeably, and 
 a new climax was reached when all the resources so far 
 attained were combined in symphonies and operas. Art 
 had by this time branched out into a very considerable 
 number of forms, but their actual style was not very 
 distinct. The respective styles of opera and of symphony, 
 of sonata and of Church music, were all very much alike. 
 The principles on which the various forms were con- 
 structed were the same; and their internal organisation, 
 as far as minutiae were concerned, was rather indefinite 
 and conventional. 
 
SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION. 367 
 
 But in the next age things began to move at a very- 
 much increased speed. It was the age of revolutionary- 
 ideas ; and men were bent on getting rid of conventions, 
 and on seeing things as they are. The art began branch- 
 ing out right and left; symphony style began to differ 
 more intrinsically from opera style; song style from sonata 
 style; oratorio style from the style of Church services, 
 and all from one another. Men found that different 
 objects entailed different treatment ; and the subtleties of 
 style had their full measure of attention from men gifted 
 at last with a fine critical sense of relevancy and appro- 
 priateness. Again, the internal organisation of works 
 began to be much more definite and articulate. Ideas 
 were put into compact and vi\id forms, and the various 
 inner and secondary parts gained more distinct vitality. 
 
 Then came the time when men, having many resources 
 at their disposal, sought to use them more decisively 
 for the purposes of ex|3ression. The differentiation of 
 forms went on faster than ever. Each large group was 
 subdivided into subordinate groups, and each different item 
 received different treatment. Pianoforte music came to 
 comprise dances of various kinds and calibres, nocturnes, 
 lyrics of all sorts, sonatas, scherzos, capriccios, fugues, 
 and endless other varieties. Operas came to comprise the 
 grand, the comic, the bufta, the seria, and various other 
 national and distinctive types. And each form that had 
 vitality showed a still further advance in effects of colour, 
 articulation of detail, and close approximation to dramatic 
 or expressive consistency. The principle of tonality was 
 expanded to the utmost limits both for design and effect ; 
 and with all the resources of harmony and polyphony for 
 form and direct expression; with melody — both inward 
 and outward — for general tone and all that corresponds to 
 vocal utterance, and with rhythm to convey the impression 
 of gesticulatory expression and colour to intensify mean- 
 
368 MUSIC. 
 
 ing, mankind seems finally to have full measure of almost 
 unlimited materials available to illustrate anything he 
 will. 
 
 But the resources are so immense, that none but com- 
 posers gifted with special vital energy, and power to 
 grasp many factors at once, seem likely to use them to the 
 full. There are plenty of indications that men are tired of 
 the long journey, and find the rich variety of resource 
 rather overwhelming, and long for things a little less 
 copious in meaning and artistic fulness. Those who aim 
 highest must have command of all resources; but there 
 must be music for all types of mind and all varieties of 
 nature; and there is no necessity that because a thing 
 employs only the minutest fraction of the available re- 
 sources of art, that it need be bad. The song from the 
 Music Hall may be excellent and characteristic, and often 
 is ; the music of people who have every opportunity to be 
 refined and cultivated may be detestably bad, and often is. 
 There is an infinite variety of moods which admit of being 
 expressed, from the noble, aspiring, human sincerity of a 
 great nature like Brahms', to the rank, impudent, false 
 sentimentality of impostors who shall be nameless. The 
 unfortunate art may be made to grovel and wallow as well 
 as to soar. A man may use slender resources to very 
 good ends, and great resources to very bad ones. It rests 
 with a very wide public now to decide what the future of 
 the art shall be; and if they can understand a little of 
 what music means, and how it came to be what it is, per- 
 haps it may help the world to encourage sincerity in the 
 composer, and not to lay itself open to be imposed upon 
 by those who have other ends in view than honouring 
 their art. 
 
 If the art is worthy of the dignity of human devotion, 
 it is worth considering a little seriously, without depre- 
 ciating in the least the lighter pleasures to which it may 
 
SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION. 369 
 
 minister. If it is to be a mere toy and trifle, it would be 
 better to have no more to do with it. But what the spirit 
 of man has laboured at for so many centuries cannot onh^ 
 be a mere plaything. The marvellous concentration of 
 faculties towards the achievement of such ends as actually 
 exist, must of itself be enough to give the product human 
 interest. Moreover, though a man's life may not be pro- 
 longed, it may be widened and deepened by what he 
 puts into it ; and any possibility of bringing people into 
 touch with those highest moments in art in which great 
 ideals were realised, in music in which noble aspirations 
 and noble sentiments were successfully embodied, is a 
 chance of enriching human experience in the noblest 
 manner ; and the humanising influences which democracy 
 may hereafter have at its disposal may thereby be in- 
 finitely enlarged. 
 
 2 A 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Accidentals, 50, 122. 
 Accompaniment, 95 ct scq., 139, 
 
 150, 154, 183,213,214,241, 314, 
 
 316. 317, 319, 337, 354- 
 Albert! bass, 231, 314. 
 Allemande, 202, 219. 
 Arcadelt, 119. 
 
 Aria, 154, 159, 234, 240, 337. 
 Arpeggio subjects and figures, 207, 
 
 261. 
 
 tunes, 79, 80. 
 
 Artistic disposition, 2. 
 
 Auber, 340. 
 
 Australian native music, 53, 54. 
 
 Bach, John Christian, 224, 22S, 
 
 265, 267. 
 John Sebastian, 50, 58, 129, 
 
 179 et scq., 196, 211, 213, 307, 
 
 322, 328, 356. 
 
 Philip Emmanuel, 209, 211, 
 
 224, 229. 
 Bagpipe scale, 43. 
 Ballet, 152, 202, 240, 342. 
 Balletti, 124. 
 
 Bas Quercy, tune from, 70. 
 Beethoven, 273, 276 et scq., 298, 
 
 323. 345. 352, 356. 
 Berlioz, 302 et scq. 
 Boccherini, 269. 
 Brahms, 319, 331. 
 Buflfa opera, 235, 249. 
 Byrd, 132. 
 
 Caccixi, 144. 
 Cadences, 106. 
 
 church, 47, 
 
 of the voice, 20, 21. 
 
 Canons, 104, 1 33. 
 
 Cantatas, 311. 
 
 Canto fermo, 96, 99, 106. 
 
 Canzonas, 124, 194. 
 
 Caribs, music of, 53. 
 
 Carissimi, 149, 150. 
 
 Cavaliere, 145. 
 
 Cavalli, 148, 152. 
 
 Cesti, 151. 
 
 Chamber music, 333. 
 
 Characterisation, 240, 245, 300, 320. 
 
 Cherubini, 331, 338. 
 
 Chinese tune, 62. 
 
 Chopin, 326. 
 
 Choral music, 89 et scq., 112, 1 1 5, 
 
 13c, 175, 306, 310. 
 Church modes, 45. 
 Classification of notes of scale, 49. 
 Clavichord, 200. 
 Clementi, 281. 
 Concerto, 164, 166, 200. 
 Contrasts, 11, 12, 14, 140, 219, 257, 
 
 263, 285. 
 Corelli, 165 et seq. 
 Counterpoint, 96, 97, 173, 199, 203. 
 Couperin, 169, 20i. 
 
 Dance movements, 124, 126, 201, 
 
 220, 271, 2S5. 
 
 music, early, 1 26. 
 
 Dancing, 7, 8, 9. 
 
 Declamation, 139, 155, 31 1, 316, 362. 
 
 Design, 2, 3, 52, 67, 71, 78, 82, 215, 
 
 257, 259, 263, 287, 328, 329, 358. 
 Discord, 107, 130, 131, 146, 290, 355. 
 Domestic life, music of, 322. 
 Doric mode, 27, 48. 
 Dunstable, 114. 
 
 English music of Elizabethan 
 period, 124, 132. 
 
 folk-music. So ct scq. 
 
 Equal temperament, 50, 203 
 Erl Konig, 316. 
 
372 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 European scale sj'stem, i6, 19, 49, 
 203. 
 
 Expression, 3, 7, 8, 9, 53, 75. 78, 
 82, 83 et seq., 132, 146, 149, 162, 
 180, 186, 190, 206, 274, 280, 284, 
 286, 296, 299, 315, 316 et seq., 
 321, 328, 355, 361. 
 
 in folk-music, 75, 82. 
 
 Fantasia, 209, 332. 
 Feejee music, 57. 
 Field, 323. 
 Folk-music, 52 (t seq., 104. 
 
 types of, 66. 
 
 "Forty-eight," the, 203 et seq., 
 
 322. 
 Freischiitz, Der, 347. 
 French characteristics in music, 1 52, 
 
 169, 238, 302, 338, 341. 
 Frescobaldi, 129. 
 Fugue, 133, 16S, 193 et seq., 206, 
 
 355- 
 
 Gabrieli, Giovanni, 132. 
 Galician tune, 69. 
 Gaultier, Denis, 169. 
 German folk-music, 76, 79. 
 
 opera, 248, 252, 345. 
 
 Gibbons, Orlando, 132, 169. 
 
 Gipsy music, 64. 
 
 Gluck, 236 et seq., 274, 335. 
 
 Gossec, 229. 
 
 Gounod, 340. 
 
 Greek scales, 25. 
 
 Gretchen am Spinnrade, 317. 
 
 Gretry, 339. 
 
 Ground bass, 59, 154. 
 
 Hale, Adam de la, 102. 
 Halevy, 342. 
 
 Handel, 173, 177, 178, 186, 212. 
 Harmonic music, 255, 257. 
 Harmony, 117, 118, 242. 
 
 incipient, 88 et seq. 
 
 Harpsichord music, 127, 200, 221, 
 
 281. 
 Haydn, 264 et seq., 306. 
 Heptatonic scales, 23. 
 Histrionic music, 146, 156, 342. 
 Hobrecht, 132. 
 Hungarian music, 53, 64, 69. 
 Hypolydian mode, 27. 
 
 Idomeneo, 245. 
 Indian scales, 33 et seq. 
 
 tune, 62. 
 
 In dulci jubilo, 71. 
 
 Instrumental music, 125, 147, 153, 
 
 170, 191, 211, 25s, 273, 298 et 
 
 se^., 320. 
 Instrumentation, 147, 150, 155, 182, 
 
 225, 241, 270, 282, 283, 303, 304, 
 
 306, 337, 341, 343> 360. 
 Intermezzi, 235. 
 Irish folk-music, 84. 
 
 tune, 85. 
 
 Israel in Egypt, 185, 186. 
 
 Italian choral music, 119, 124, 132. 
 
 opera, 142, 156, 177, 244, 306, 
 
 336. 
 
 Japanese scales, 41. 
 Javese scales, 42. 
 Josquin, 132. 
 
 Lasso, Orlando, 132. 
 
 Leit-motif, 351, 354. 
 
 Liszt, 325. 
 
 Lulli, 148, 151, 338, 
 
 Lus, 39. 
 
 Lute music, 126, 169, 321. 
 
 Macusi native music, 55. 
 
 Madrigals, 1 19. 
 
 Mannheim, 229. 
 
 Marenzio, 132. 
 
 Marschner, 348. 
 
 Mascarades, 156. 
 
 Masques, 152. 
 
 Material of music, 13. 
 
 M^hul, 341. 
 
 Melodic element, 7, 9. 
 
 music, 19, 61, 106, 121. 
 
 systems, 19 et seq. 
 
 Melodies, singing several at a time. 
 99 et seq. 
 
 Mendelssohn, 307, 310, 323. 
 
 Mexican tune, 74. 
 
 Meyerbeer, 342, 349. 
 
 Minuet, 271, 285. 
 
 Modes, 121, 135 ; Greek, 27 ; In- 
 dian, 35. 
 
 Modulation, 121, 156, 259, 293, 357. 
 
 Monte verde, 146, 274. 
 j Motets, loi. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 373 
 
 Mozambique, native music of, 56. 
 Mozart, 236, 244, 264, 288, 310, 
 
 354. 
 Murcian tune, 84. 
 
 Netherlands, music of, 124, 132. 
 
 Notation, 98. 
 
 Nozze de Figaro, 249. 
 
 Nuove Musiche, 145. 
 
 Odes, choral, 311. 
 
 Opera, 139, 141, 155, 233, 242, 248, 
 
 252, 336 et scq. 
 and oratorio, beginnings of, 
 
 139 et scq. 
 Oratorio, 149, 15 1, 172, 230, 305, 
 
 308. 
 Orchestral music, 200, 226, 283, 302. 
 Orchestration, 155, 228, 242, 267, 
 
 283, 303. 360. 
 Organ, 125, 128, 129, 166, 196. 
 Organum, 96. 
 Oriental music, 6^. 
 Ornament, 63, 79, 127, 128, 145, 
 
 166, 210, 325, 327. 
 Overtures, 153, 160, 161, 227, 238, 
 
 350. 
 
 Palestrina, 132, 298. 
 
 Paradisi, 223. 
 
 Passion music, 189. 
 
 Pentatonic scales, 23. 
 
 Peri, 142. 
 
 Persian scales, 31. 
 
 Phrygian mode, 27. 
 
 Pianoforte, 281, 321, 324, 326, 332. 
 
 Piccini, 239, 241. 
 
 Poitevin tune, 69. 
 
 Polynesian cannibals, 53. 
 
 Preludes, 207, 328, 359. 
 
 Programme music, 296, 321, 325. 
 
 Purcell, 163, 274. 
 
 Quality of tone, 116, 136, 1S3, 268, 
 
 283, 359- 
 Quartetts, 269. 
 
 Radical reforms, 138. 
 
 R:igas, 35. 
 
 Rameau, 169, 238. 
 
 Realism, 162, 163, 180, 320, 321. 
 
 Recitative, 1 39, I4I, 1 60, 1 81,. 247. 
 
 Reduplication of melodies, 92. 
 Religion and music, 88. 
 Rheingold, 352. 
 Rhythmic element, 7, 9, 116, 124, 
 
 220, 286. 
 Ring of the Nibelung, The, 352. 
 Ritornellos, 160. 
 Rondo, 55 et scq., 264. 
 Rcssini, 337, 339. 
 Roumanian folk-music, 65. 
 Rules of early music, 103. 
 Russian folk-music, 58,59, 68, 71. 
 
 Sarabande, 202. 
 
 Savages, music of, 6, 17, 53. 
 
 Scales, 16 ; heptatonic and penta- 
 tonic, 23 ; Greek, 27 ; Persian, 
 31 ; Indian, 33 ; Chinese, 37 ; 
 Japanese, 41 ; Siamese, 43 ; Euro- 
 pean, 16, 19, 49, 203. 
 
 Scandinavian folk-music, 78, 79. 
 
 Scarlatti, Alessandro, 157, 226 
 
 234- 
 
 Domenico, 11, 221. 
 
 Scherzo, 285. 
 
 Schubert, 314, 323. 
 
 Schumann, 10, 319, 328. 
 
 Schiitz, 149, 162, 253. 
 
 Scotch tunes, 72, 83. 
 
 Secular music, rise of, 137. 
 
 Sequence tunes, 59. 
 
 Sequences, 292, 293, 358, 359. 
 
 Servian tune, 70. 
 
 Solo song, 312 c< scq. 
 
 Sonata form, development of, 216, 
 
 259, 262, 284. 
 Sonatas, 164, 216, ^57, 278, 28S, 
 
 297, 328, 332. 
 
 for harpsichord, 221 ct seq, 
 
 violin, 217. 
 
 Song, 312, 324. 
 
 Spanish tune, 73, 74. 
 
 Spohr, 300, 306, 348. 
 
 Spontini, 341. 
 
 Stamitz, 229. 
 
 Stradella, 15 1. 
 
 Subjects, 134, 193, 19S, 260, 262, 
 
 293. 294- 
 
 based on tonic chord, 260. 
 
 Suites, 201. 
 
 Symphony, 161, 225, 238, 242, 207, 
 
 2S5, 296, 301. 
 
374 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Tempekament, equal, 50, 203. 
 
 Toccatas, 128, 209. 
 
 Tonality, 60, 173, 217, 260, 355, 
 
 356. 
 Tongataboo, music of natives of, 
 
 54. 
 Troubadours, iio. 
 Trouv^re music, 56, 102. 
 Tyrolese music, 79. 
 
 Vagueness of early music, 133. 
 Variations, 59, 20I, 295. 
 Violin music, 215. 
 Violins, 125, 163, 214. 
 
 Viols, 125. 
 
 Vittoria, 132. 
 
 Vivaldi, 166. 
 
 Vocal music, 7 etscq., 20, 26, 53, 69 
 et seq., 92, 139 et seq., 145, 156, 
 162, 174, 181, 240, 306, 312, 361. 
 
 Wagner, 349 et seq. 
 
 Weber, 346. 
 
 Welsh tune, 69. 
 
 Wohltemperirte Clavier, 203, 322. 
 
 Writing methods of, 98. 
 
 Zauberflote, Die, 252. 
 
 TBE END. 
 
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