THE INTERNATIONAL SCIENTIFIC SERIES 
 VOLUME LXXVI 
 
THE INTERNATIONAL SCIENTIFIC SERIES 
 
 THE EVOLUTION OF 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 BY 
 
 C. HUBERT H. PARRY 
 
 D. C. L. DURHAM, M. A. OXON. 
 
 MTJS. DOC. OXON., CANTAB., AND DUBLIN ; HON. FELLOW 
 COLLEGE, OXFORD 
 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 19 16 
 

 Authorized Edition, . 
 
PEEFAOE 
 
 The following outline of the Evolution of Musical Art was 
 undertaken, at the invitation of Mr. Kegan Paul, somewhere 
 about the year 1884. Its appearance was delayed by the 
 constantly increasing mass of data and evidence about the 
 music of savages, folk music, and mediaeval music; and by 
 the necessity of exploring some of the obscure and neglected 
 corners of the wide-spread story of the Art. And though the 
 subject was almost constantly under consideration, with a 
 few inevitable interruptions, the book was not completed till 
 1893. 
 
 Obligations in many directions should be acknowledged — 
 especially to Mr. Edward Dannreuther, for copious advice, 
 suggestions, and criticisms during the whole time the work 
 was in hand j to Miss Emily Daymond, of Holloway College, 
 for reading the proofs ; to Mr. W. Barclay Squire, for untiring 
 readiness to make the resources of the Musical Library of the 
 British Museum available ; to Mr. A. J. Hipkins, for advis- 
 ing about the chapter on Scales ; and to Mr. Herbert Spencer, 
 Mr. H. H. Johnston, and many others for communications 
 about the dancing and music of savage racea 
 
 The title, under which the book was first published in 1893, 
 was evidently nisleading, and has therefore been slightly 
 amplified, with the view of suggesting the intention of the work 
 
 •340503 
 
VI PREFACE 
 
 more effectually. It is hoped that the drawback under which 
 it labours, through the impossibility of introducing many 
 musical illustrations in such a narrow space, may before long 
 be remedied by the publication of a parallel volume, consisting 
 almost entirely of musical excerpts and works which are not 
 easily accessible to the general public, so arranged as to show 
 the continuous process of the development of the Musical Art 
 in actuality. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 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 
 ■ong 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 — Scale* variable in 
 accordance with the purposes for which they are wanted — 
 Melodic scales — Heptatonic and pentatonio — Ancient Greek 
 system — Modes — Persian system — Subtle organisation — Indian 
 system — Modes and ragas — Chinese system — Japanese — Javese 
 — Siamese — Bagpipe scale — Beginnings of modern European 
 system — Classification of notes of scale— Temperament . • IS 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 FOLK-MUSIC 
 
 Mnsio of savages — First efforts in the direction of design — Ele- 
 mentary types — Reiteration of phrases — Sequences — Tonality — 
 Ornament — Pattern tunes — Universality of certain types of 
 design — Racial characteristics — Expression and design — Highest 
 forms— Decline of genuine folk music . . . • 47 
 
viu CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 INCIPIENT HARMONY 
 
 turn 
 
 Murtc and religion— Musio of early Ohrietian Church— Doubling 
 melodies — Organum or diaphony— Counterpoint or descant — 
 Singing several tunes at once — Motets — Influence of diaphony 
 —Canons— Cadences— Indefiniteness of early artistio musio— 
 Influence of the Church 8a 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE ERA OF 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 — Homo- 
 
 103 
 
 CHAPTER VT 
 
 THE RISE OP SECULAR MUSIC 
 
 Reforming idealists— First experiments in opera, oratorio, and can- 
 tata — Recitative — Beginnings indefinite — Expression — Ten- 
 dency towards definition— Melody— Arias— Realism— Tendency 
 of instrumental music towards independence . . iaj 
 
 CHAPTER VH 
 
 COMBINATION OF OLD METHODS AND NEW 
 PRINCIPLES 
 
 Renewed cultivation of contrapuntal methods — Influence of Italian 
 taste and style upon Handel— His operas— His oratorios— J. 8. 
 Baoh Influences which formed his musical obaracter —Differ- 
 
CONTENTS lx 
 
 MM 
 
 enoe of iUlian and Teutonic attitude, towards music— Instru- 
 mentation-Choral effect-lUlian oratorio-Passxon musio- 
 Publio career of Handel-Bach's isolation-Ultunate uafluenoe 
 of their work 
 
 »57 
 
 «93 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC 
 
 E. riy instrumental music contrapuntal-Fugue-Organ music- 
 
 Orchestral music-Harpsichord and cWhord-Su.tes and 
 
 £ rt itas-«Das wohltemperirte Clavier "-Unique poeitmn of 
 
 J. S. Bach in instrumental musio 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 BEGINNINGS OF MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC 
 
 Systematise of harmony-The early Italian ™ U ™*- Di8 ^ 
 ^ tion of contrasted types of movements m «™P^™» 
 Latas-Harpsichord .onata.- Operatic influenoe-Overtur. 
 and Binf oni» ,••••• 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA 
 
 Formality of the opera seria-Intermeizos-Comic features-Style 
 F ^cfuck and e rpression-Piccini_Mozart-Itahan influence 
 
 Idomeneo - Instrumentation - Teutonic aspiration - Artistic 
 
 achievement ..•••* 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE MIDDLE STAGE OF -SONATA" FORM 
 in a formal sense 
 
 «3 
 
 *33 
 
X CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER XH 
 BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN 
 
 warn 
 
 Development of I— M l Importance of Mozart's work at the 
 particular moment— Beethoven's impulse towards expression— 
 His keen feeling for design— Preponderance of sonatas in bis 
 works— His three periods— Richness of sound— The pianoforte 
 —The orchestra— Use of characteristic qualities of tone- 
 Expansion of design— Expression— The scherzo— Close texture 
 of Beethoven's work— His devices— Programme . . . *49 
 
 CHAPTER Xm 
 
 MODERN TENDENCIES 
 
 Characterisation— Increase of impulse towards the embodiment of 
 definite ideas external to music— Spohr— Weber— Mendelssohn 
 Berlioz— Instrumentation— Resuscitation of oratorio— Its peculi- 
 arities—Change in the aspect of choral writing— Secular choral 
 works— Declamation— Solo song— Treatment of words— Expres- 
 sion and design -Pianoforte music— Obviousness and obscurity 
 —Realism— Great variety of traits and forms . • *73 
 
 CHAPTER XTV 
 
 MODERN PHASES OP 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 effect— Design and expression again— 
 Declamation and singing — Profusion of resources . 306 
 
 8CHMABT A»D COMOLDBKMi '333 
 
 INDEX ** 
 
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, and it is to be hoped there are very few so blind 
 or perverse as to regard it as an undesirable and useless factor 
 in the human psychological outfit. Whether it is the higher 
 development of an original instinct which enabled mankind 
 to rise above the rest of the animal world by co-operation and 
 mutual helpfulness, or whether it is the outcome of the state 
 of mutual dependence which is the lot of human beings, it is 
 obviously a quality without which society could hardly continue 
 to exist in the complicated state of organisation at which it has 
 arrived. The jarring interests of hurrying, striving millions 
 require something more than mere cold-blooded utilitarian 
 motives to keep them properly balanced ; and in matters of 
 everyday life the impulses which tend to mutual helpfulness and 
 forbearance are fed by the ordinary phases of this omnipresent 
 instinct. But there are many kinds and infinitely variable 
 degrees of sympathy, and some people love best to bestow it. 
 and some there are who much prefer to receive it. And 
 apart from the ordinary sympathetic consideration of every- 
 day life on the one hand, and of the devoted sym pathetic 
 heroism which often rises to the pitch of entire sacrifice of 
 self on the other, most people have some special lires and 
 subject* which excite their sympathetic instincts, and make 
 
2 THE ART OF MUSIO 
 
 them specially conscious of the delight of fellowship in tastes 
 and jnternsts, whether it be politics, science, literature, art, or 
 sport ; and in such circumstances the instinct, without passing 
 the bounds of normal healthiness of tone, may rise to a degree 
 of refined responsive sensitiveness, which is productive of a very 
 high quality of happiness. 
 
 But of all types of humanity, those who are possessed with 
 artistic dispositions are notoriously most liable to an absorb- 
 ing thirst for sympathy, which is sometimes interpreted by 
 those who are not artistic as a love of approbation or noto- 
 riety ; and though a morbid development of the instinct may 
 sometimes degenerate into that unhappy weakness, the almost 
 universal prevalence of the characteristic cannot be summarily 
 accounted for on such superficial grounds, but deserves more 
 discriminating consideration. The reason that artistic and 
 poetic human beings are generally characterised by such a con- 
 spicuous development of their sympathetic instincts appears 
 to lie in the fact that they are peculiarly susceptible to beauty 
 of some kind, whether it be the obvious external kind of 
 beauty, or the beauty of thought and human circumstance ; 
 and that the keenness of their pleasure makes them long to 
 enhance their own enjoyments by bringing their fellow-men 
 sympathetically into touch with them. From this point of 
 view the various arts of painting, sculpture, music, literature, 
 and the rest, are_t-he_.outQgnifi. oi the_instinctive desire__to 
 convey impressions and enjoyments to others, and to re^ 
 "present in the most attractive and permanent forms the 
 ideas, thoughts, circumstances, scenes, or emotions which 
 bave powerfully stirred the artists' own natures. It is the 
 intensity of the pleasure 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 Cud terms which will be understood by other beings in^ 
 whom his appeal can strikfe a sympathetic chord ; and the 
 stronger the delight in the thought or feeling, the greater is 
 the desire to make the form in which it is conveyed un- 
 mistakably clear and intelligible. But intelligibility depends 
 to a great extent in all things upon principles of structure, 
 
PRELIMINARIES 3 
 
 And structure implies design; hence the instinctive desire to 
 make a thought or artistic conception unmistakably intelligible 
 is a great incentive 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, and though 
 in music it is less easily understood by the uninitiated than 
 in other arts, it is in reality of vital importance. . Music indeed 
 cannot exist till the definiteness of some kind of design is 
 present in the succession of the sounds. 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 distinct, and its 
 definiteness makes it permanent. In most 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 subjects 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, not 
 only because without them the impression conveyed is indefinite 
 and fugitive, but also because the very source and origin of its 
 influence on human beings is so obscure. To some people beauty 
 of form in melody or structure seems the chief excuse for the 
 2 
 
4 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 art's existence ; and even to more patient observers it seems to 
 be on a different footing from all tbe other arts in respect of it* 
 meaning and intention. Even the most unsophisticated dullard 
 can see what inspired the painter or the sculptor to express him- 
 self, but he cannot understand what music means, nor what it 
 is intended to express ; and many practical people look upon it 
 as altogether inferior to other arts, because it seems to have no 
 obviously useful application. Painting naturally 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 birds in music can of 
 course be substantiated ; but as a serious explanation 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 necessary to enable 
 them in higher flights to idealise it, and to present their imagin- 
 ings in the terms of des ign which are f.hpir Hig hest sanctio n. 
 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 unsophisti- 
 cated 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 i 
 artist formulates impressions received through the eyes, and 
 the musician formulates the direct expression of man's inner- 
 
PRELIMINARIES 5 
 
 Inost feelings and sensibilitiea In fact, the arts of painting 
 and sculpture and their kindred are the expression of the 
 outer surroundings of mau, 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 in terms of de- 
 sign utterances and counterparts of 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 describes 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 wailing 
 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 bf the effect such 
 incipient music is capable of exerting upon the feline dis- 
 position. 
 
 Human beings are quite equally sensitive to all forms of 
 expression. Even tricks of manner, and nervous gestures, 
 and facial distortions are infectious; and very sensitive and 
 sympathetic people are particularly liable to imitate uninten- 
 tional grimaces and fidgets. But sounds which are uttered 
 with genuine feeling are particularly exciting to human 
 creatures. The excitement of a mob grows under the innuence 
 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 another 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 cays, as upon the skill with 
 
6 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 which he uses the expressive tones of his voice. All such 
 utterances 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 whin- 
 ings 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 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 in- 
 definite noises which they first used to communicate with one 
 another, like animals, passed into some definite sound which 
 conveyed to the savage ear some definite and constant meaD« 
 ing ; so the indefinite cries and shouts which expressed then 
 feelings began to pass into music when a few definite nofc«^ 
 were made to take the place of vague, irregular shouting. 
 And as speech 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 dis- 
 tinct varieties of meaning; so the Resources of music increased 
 as the relations of more and more definite notes were estab- 
 lished, in obedience to the development of musical instinct 
 and as the ear learnt to appreciate 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 development before the irregular haphazard alter- 
 nation 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 
 
PRELIMINARIES 7 
 
 extremely slowly, and it was not till special races had arrived 
 at an advanced state of intellectuality that men began to pay 
 any attention to the relations of notes to one another, or to 
 notice that such abstractions could exist apart from the music. 
 And it has even sometimes happened that races who have de- 
 veloped up to an advanced standard of intellectuality have not 
 succeeded in systematising more than a very limited range of 
 sounds. 
 
 But complete musical art has to be made definite in other 
 respects besides mere melodic up and down motion. The # 
 successive moments had to be regulated as well as mere 
 changes of pitch, and this was first made possible by the I 
 element of rhythm. r~ 
 
 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 represents some 
 kind of singing or vocal utterance. Rhythm and vocal ex- 
 pression are by nature distinct, and in very primitive states, , 
 of music are often found independent of one another, The 
 rhythmic music is then 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 therefore the rhythmic 
 elements and the melodic elements are only different forms 
 in which the same class of feelings and emotions are expressed. 
 
 All dancing is ultimately derived from expressive gestures 
 which have become rhythmic through the balanced arrange- 
 ment of the human body, which makes it difficult for similar 
 vitions to be frequently repeated irregularly The evidence 
 2 
 
g THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 of careful observers from all parts of the globe agrees in 
 describing barbarous dances as being obvious m their into* 
 tion 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 reproduced 
 not only so as to make clear to the spectator what is meant 
 by the rhythmic pantomime, but even in certain cases so as 
 to produce a frenzy in the mind of both spectator and 
 performers, which drives them to deeds of wild ness and 
 ferocity fully on a par with what they wnuld do in the real 
 circumstances of which the dancing is merely an expressive 
 
 reminiscence. . „_„»* 
 
 Tn these respects, dancing, in its earlier stages, is an exact 
 counterpart of song. Both express emotions in their respe^ive 
 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 device* As the 
 ruder kinds of rhythmic dancing advance and take more of 
 >he forms of an art, the significance of the gesture, £— 
 V, be so obvious, and the excitement accompanying the per- 
 ormance tones down. An acute observer still can trace the 
 restures and actions to their sources when the conventions 
 Lt have grown up have obscured their expressive meaning, 
 aud 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 off: rhythnno 
 motion and graceful gesture. But even in modern times 
 rcasionalrevLionstoanimalism in depraved states oU*** 
 revive the grosser forms of dancing, and forcibly recall the 
 primitive source of the art. ^ art *i- 
 
 In melodic or vocal music the process has been exactly 
 analogous. The expressive cries soon began to lose then, 
 airect significance when they were formalised into di tinct 
 musical intervals. It is still possible to find among low* 
 organised savages example, of a kind of musm which is m 
 
PRELIMINARIES 9 
 
 little defined in detail that the impulsive cry or howl of 
 expression is hardly disguised at all by anything which could 
 be described as a definite interval. But the establishment of a 
 definite interval of any sort puts the performer under restric- 
 tions, and every step that is made in advance hides the 
 original meaning 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 re- 
 member, attempts are made to alternate and contrast them 
 in some way ; and the excitement of sympathy with an 
 expressive cry is merged in a crudely artistic pleasure derived 
 from the contemplation of something of the nature of 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 singing 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 combine?!, 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 fre- 
 quently to be met with even in the most advanced 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 principle which represents vocal ex- 
 pression 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 
 sensuou? dance-tunes exercise is derived from a distinctly canto 
 
IO THE ART OF MtJSIC 
 
 hi,, taoatment of the tune, -hid. appef * «T *"" '"^ ' 
 through the languorous, sensuous, and self-lndulgent side of 
 
 ^ho XT- show, Ml - much in men a, fa*. * 
 itself Dreamers and sentimentalists tend to lose their hold 
 'uTonrhythmie energy; while men of «?^ «£,««££ 
 habits of mind set little store by expressive cantabile Com 
 poZ of a reflective aud romantic turn of mind hke Schumann 
 S3™* fa music which demands cantabile expression; and 
 
 Len X takHV fa *J*«* «*? • » ^v" 
 to nations. Certain branches of the Latin race tat. had » 
 very exceptional ability for singing, and have often shown 
 themselves very negligent of rhythmic defimtenes, wfate the 
 Hungarians manifest a truly marvellous instinct o wha « 
 rhythmic; and the French, being a nation particularly jpven 
 loexpressing 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 
 sxp essioniseqfallyoombined; audit is under such condition, 
 X musicians who have both methods of expression ^weU 
 under command, that musio rises to **&**? £°° £ 
 the use of the two principles supplies the basis of the widest 
 nnntrast of which the art is capable. 
 
 InThis respect the two contrasting principles of expression 
 
 are types of a system of contrasts which is he basis of aj 
 
 Tturlmusical design; and^hen the ultimate origin of all 
 
 SJdlrTct .xp^ion of feeling aud an appeal to sympa- 
 
 So feeling in olbers, i. considered, it is easy to see that 
 
 tanature of the human creature makes contra,; , uiiiversa ly 
 
 inevitable Fatigue and lassitude are just as certain to follow 
 
 rortheexerciiof mental and emotional faculties .. W 
 
 .be exercise of the muscles; and fatigue pu * ■ »«££*• 
 
 full enjoyment of the thing which causes it. It .sab oh ely 
 
 indispensable in art to provide against it, and it u> the instinct 
 
 of he artist who gauges human sensibi. itm, -^ ju,d M. 
 
 such respects that enables him to reach the high., ar«>c per 
 
 faction fa subtlety a, weU as scope of design The mind tost 
 
 S. ^d then .uffere pain from over-much reiteration of . 
 
PRELIMINARIES 1 1 
 
 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 principle. In some of these respects the reason 
 is easily found in some obvious physiological fact, such as ex- 
 haustion of nervous force or waste of tissue ; but it appears 
 certain that the only reason why a similar explanation cannot be 
 enunciated in connection with the more intangible departments 
 of human phenomena 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 in cases where the physiological reasons are clear 
 apply also in less obviously physical 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. 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 excitement 
 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 excitation 
 of the organism is maintained by adopting a different method, 
 which gives opportunity to the faculties 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 tne consciousness of memory, together with that sense of 
 
12 THE ART OP MUSIC 
 
 renewal of a power to feel and enjoy which is of itself a peon 
 liar and a very natural satisfaction to a sentient being. 
 
 In the earlier stages of the art the struggle to arrive at « 
 solution of the problem this proposes is dimly seen. As man 
 had only instinct to find his way with, it is not surprising 
 that he was long in finding out means of managing and dis- 
 tributing such contrasts. In the middle period of musical 
 history, when musical mankind had learnt its lesson, and 
 took a complacent view of its achievement, the method and 
 use of such contrasts became offensively obvious ; but in the 
 modern period they are disguised by infinite variety of musical 
 and aesthetical devices, and are necessarily made to recur with 
 extraordinary frequency in proportion to the exhausting kinds 
 of excitation employed by modern composers. In mature art 
 the systematisation of such contrasts is vital, and in immature 
 art it is incipient ; and this fact is the most essential differ- 
 ence between the two. 
 
 Of such types of contrast that of principle between the 
 r hythm ic and the melodic on one hand, and of e motional and 
 in tellect ual on the other, are the widest. The manner in 
 tfhich 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 respective 
 principles show themselves especially in the manner in which 
 definition is obtained, since, as has been pointed out, deBnite- 
 ness is the first necessity of art. From melodic utterance 
 came the development of the scale, from dancing the distribu- 
 tion 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 
 Utter that of energy ; and when the nature of both is con- 
 sidered it will be felt that these characteristics are in accord- 
 ance 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 
 
PRELIMINARIES 1 3 
 
 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 remem- 
 bered. In the necessary process of making the material 
 intelligible by definition, the rhythmic 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 sources ; 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 their inherent differences. 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 featured 
 
 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 
 the 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, 
 
14 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 Taking the most comprehensive view of the story of musical 
 evolution, it may be said that in the earlier stages, while the 
 actual resources were being developed and principles of design 
 were being organised, the art passed more and more away 
 from the direct expression of human feeling. But after a 
 very important crisis in modern art, when abstract beatity 
 was specially emphasised and cultivated 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 
 textura. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 SCALES 
 
 I The first indispensable requirement of music is a series <A 
 I notes which stand in some recognisable relation to one another 
 \ in respect of pitch V for there is nothing which the mind can 
 Nay hold of and retain in a succession of sounds if the rela- 
 tions 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 which prevailed 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 building 
 up the first indispensable necessity of musical art, by decid- 
 ing on a couple of notes or so which seemed satisfactory or 
 attractive when heard one after the other ; and that they did 
 have to be satisfied with a scale of the most limited description 
 for a very long period. 
 
 What interval the primitive savage chose at the outset was 
 probably very much a matter of accident ; and inasmuch as 
 scales used for melody are much less exact and stable than 
 those which are used for harmony, it is quite certain that the 
 reiteration of any interval whatever whicli men first took a 
 fancy for was only approximate, and that only in course of 
 ages did instinctive consensus of opinion, possibly with the 
 help of some primitive instrument, fasten definitely upon a 
 
1 6 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 succession of sounds which to modern musicians would b« 
 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 modification from an accepted nucleus for nearly a thousand 
 years. Primeval savages were even worse off than mediaeval 
 Europeans. They did not know that they wanted a scale; 
 and if they had known it they would have had neither acous- 
 tical theory nor practical experience to guide them, nor even 
 examples to show them how things ought not to be done. 
 But it is very 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. 
 What that interval would be it is difficult to guess, and pure 
 theoretic speculation is almost certain to be at fault in any 
 decision it comes to on the subject ; but examination of the 
 numerous varieties of scales existent in the world, and of 
 such as are recorded approximately by ancient wind instru- 
 ments, 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 recognise 
 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 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 singer would be able contistently 
 
SCALES 1 7 
 
 to hit an exact interval which was just not a true octave, 
 even if he was perverse enough to try. Of other familiar 
 intervals 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 appear- 
 ance; but that, again, does not appear in the true Siamese 
 scale, or in one of the Javese systems. An agreement in such 
 intervals as thirds and sixths is not to be expected. They are 
 known to be difficult intervals to learn, and difficult to place 
 exactly in theoretic schemes ; and the result is that they are 
 infinitely variable in different 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 
 extreme ones, it must be confessed that they are so obviously 
 artificial, that even in everyday practice in countries habitu- 
 ated 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 make sure of without education, and are un- 
 stable and variable in their qualities. There remain only the 
 intervals of the fourth and the fifth ; and evidence as well as 
 theory proves, almost conclusively that one of these two formed 
 the nucleus upon which almost all scales were based ; and~o*ne 
 of the two was probably the interval which primitive savages 
 endeavoured to hit in their first attempts at music^.. — 
 
 But at the outset there comes in a very curious considera- 
 tion 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 inconclusive 
 
1 8 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 and unsatisfying to our ears. But nevertheless the fact 
 remains that it is more often met with than the fifth in 
 barbarous scales, and if modern habits of musical thought can 
 be put aside the reason becomes obvious. Our modern har- 
 monic 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 har- 
 mony distinctly plays a vital part in the scheme of artistic 
 design. COur scale has had to be transformed entirely from 
 the ancient modes in order to make the harmonic scheme of, 
 musical art possible ; and in this process the attitude of the * 
 cultivators of other systems towards their scales has been lost 
 sight of, and their perception of them has become almost a 
 lost sense. All other systems in the world are purely melodic 
 They present a single part as the whole material of music, and 
 their scheme of aesthetics is totally alien from 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 European art the instru- 
 mental element is strongest. The sum of these considerations 
 is, that whereas in modern music people count their intervals 
 from the bass, and 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 un- 
 dm ^itptl ly provable t ^at. tfa g prn/>ticfl of the ancients was in 
 like manner exactly contr aVv, t o ours^ To take one con- 
 sideration out of many as an 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 
 ■cale, 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. 
 
SCALES 19 
 
 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 astonish- 
 ment, 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 in- 
 fluenced by the voice, cadences which rise to the final sound 
 are almost inconceivable. They might be possible as ex- 
 pressing 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 upward motion from the leading note 
 to the tonic in cadences becomes intelligible as successive 
 positions of upper portions of the essential harmonies which 
 happen to coincide with aesthetic requirements of melody when 
 supported by the chords which supply the other requisites of 
 a cadence simultaneously. 
 
 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. In such circum- 
 stances the difficulty of accounting for the more frequent 
 appearance of the fourth than the fifth in scales used only 
 for melodic purposes disappears, for, going downwards, it is 
 perfectly natural and easy to hit the interval of the fourth. 
 Moreover, a notable peculiarity in the construction of many 
 and various scales increases the likelihood of the fourth having 
 heen first chosen downwards, while it also explains the early 
 appearance of the interval of a third, lit is an indubitable 
 fact that scales are developed by adding ornamental notes to 
 the more essential 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 its relative position. 
 Mere uncertainty of voice would both suggest it and make it 
 
20 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 variable ; but undoubtedly it became a conspicuous feature ol 
 tbe 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 ot a note 
 a semitone above it, as this would be the first addition made 
 to the scale, and would serve as the downward-tending leading 
 note of the system. 
 
 There are many facts which justify this theory of the 
 development of the scale, notably the construction of ancient 
 Greek scale, and of the modern Japanese and the aboriginal 
 Australian scale, such as it is, and even of the scale indicated 
 by the phonographed tunes of some of the Red Indians of 
 North America. \The first scale which history records as 
 having been used by the Greeks is indeed absolutely nothing 
 more than a group of three notes, of which those which are 
 furthest apart make the interval of the fourth, and the re- 
 maining note is a semitone above the lower note. This is 
 precisely the group of notes which analogy and argument 
 alike lead us to expect in the second stage of scale-making 
 under melodic influences, and it affords an almost decisive 
 proof that the first interval chosen was the downward fourth. 
 The Japanese system had no possible direct connection with 
 the Greek system, but the same group of notes is prominently 
 characteristic, and is undoubtedly used with persistent reitera- 
 tion in their music. A modern European can get the effect 
 for himself by playing C, and the At?' and G below it on« 
 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 
 aesthetics, for G seems to become the tonic, and C the note of 
 secondary importance — a state of things which is only con- 
 ceivable if we think of the scale as tending downwards instead 
 'A 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 o r the rise, which comes early in the musical 
 
SCALES 2 1 
 
 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 corresponding note to the fourth ou 
 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 C to F$, which is only intelligible in a melodic system 
 on the ground of the F$ being an ornamental note appended 
 to the G next 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. ( Thescah3s of China, Japan, Java, 
 and the Pacific Islands are all pe n tatonic 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 above the 
 lowest note is a prominent and almost invariable item. The 
 rest of the most notable scales of the world are structurally 
 heptatonic, and comprise seven essential notes in the octave. 
 Suchare 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 practice, and their true nature has thereby 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 practise them are painfully 
 aware; but in actual use a number of other notes, called 
 accidentals, are admitted, both as modifications and as orna- 
 ments. 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 th« 
 
22 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 natives who use them are familiar with other notes besides 
 the curious and characteristic formula of five ; but in the back- 
 ground of their musical feelings the original foundation of 
 their system remains 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 fifth or 
 fourth was chosen, for it is noticeable that small intervals like 
 semitones are rare in five-note systems and common in 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.\^p 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 enlarge- 
 ment 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 intelligence 
 in other matters^fcThey spent much ingenious thought upon 
 the analysis of th&r 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 very 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 marvellous power of its effects. >r^he 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 details and 
 
SCALES 23 
 
 style of their evidence tend to prove the contrary. It is not 
 in times when art is mature that people are likely to tell 
 stories of overturning town 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 
 much to the effect. It is a sufficiently 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 virtuoso 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, 
 amptiest, 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 were very impressionable, but 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 sympa- 
 thetic 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 C#; and all the notes used were comprised 
 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. This clearly does not 
 zj^ r^ ey -^-U represent the interval of a third with a semi- 
 * ^ - H tone below it, but the interval of a fourth 
 
 looking downwards with F as a downward lending note to E. 
 This was called the tetrachord of Olympos. In time the not* 
 3 
 
24 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 between A and F was added, which gave a natural flow down 
 
 S F— re _^, 
 
 from A to E. This was well recognised 
 as the first nucleus of the Greek^s^em, 
 and was cal led the Dnn'o-^etr p^ nrd. It was enlarged by th« 
 simple process of adding another group of notes which corre- 
 sponded exactly to the first, such as E, D, C, B, below or 
 above, thereby making a balance to the other tetrachord. It 
 is possible that their musical sense developed 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 
 A in the lower part of the bass stave to A in the treble, indi- 
 cates that the Greeks preferred 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 passionate or excitable 
 cast, because the use of notes which imply any degree of agita- 
 tion are excluded. The last note which is said to have been 
 added in the matter of range was the A below the lowest B, 
 which was attributed to a lyre-player of the name of Phrynis 
 in 456 B.C. But this note was considered 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 appearance. For the 
 purposes of harmony but few arrangements of notes are neces- 
 sary ; but for the development of effect in melodic systems it 
 is very important to have scales in which the order of arrange- 
 ment of differing intervals varies. In the earliest Greek 
 nucleus of a scale, the Doric, there was a semitone between 
 the bottom note and the next above it ix. each tetrachord — u 
 between B and C, or E and F. In course of time the posi- 
 tions of the semitones were altered to make different scales, 
 
*£££> fi>H SCALES 25 
 
 and then the tetrachord stood as B, Cjf, D, E, or, as in our 
 modern minor scale, D, E, F, G. This Hfijsjjajled th aJPhry gian. 
 and was considered the second oldest. Another arrangement 
 with the semitone again shifted, as B, 0$, D& E, resembles 
 the lower part of our modern major scale, and was known as 
 the " Lydj an." When the tetrachords were linked together 
 at first they overlapped ; as in the Doric form, if the lower 
 tetrachord was B, C, 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 tetra- 
 chords which did not overlap was adopted about the time of 
 
 Pythagoras. Thus the Doric mode stood asEFGABODE, 
 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 ^Eolic, 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 well- 
 marked 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 exclu- 
 sively taught the Doric mode, because it was considered to 
 breathe dignity, manliness, and self-dependence ; the Phrygian 
 mode was considered to have been nobly inspiring also, but in 
 different ways; and the Lydian, which 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 major mode under the influence of harmony. But 
 this mode was not in great favour either in ancient times or 
 in mediaeval times, when attempts were made to revive the 
 Greek system. 
 
 In this manner a series of the notes which were supposed 
 to ba fit for human beings to sing were mapped out into dii- 
 
2 6 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 tinct and well-defined positions. But one of the most imp or- 
 
 tant developments of .the scale still remained to be made. In 
 modern times the scale has become so highly organised that 
 the function of each note and the particular office 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; for if it stops elsewhere everyone 
 feels that the work is incomplete. To the tonic all other 
 notes are related in different degrees-the semitone be ow, as 
 leading to it; the dominant, as the note most strongly con- 
 trasted with k and so forth. But to judge from the absence 
 of comment upon such functions of various notes of the scale 
 by 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 clearly developed. \^**°™* 
 when there were only three notes to work with , it ^ seems a 
 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 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 » true 
 they had distinct names for every note m a mode , and^ two 
 are specially singled out as important, namely the midd e 
 note and the "highest," which all modern writers .agree was 
 what we should call the lowest. If anything can be gathered 
 Lm the ancient writings on the subject at all, it .won Id see- 
 to be that the middle note, the « mese," was something like our 
 dominant, and the "hypate," which we should I call the low**, 
 was the note to close upon. If this was so, the ongmal func- 
 tions described on page 20 were still recognised in th ry, 
 but the wisest writers on the subject in modern time, think 
 that matters got so confused that a Greek musician would end 
 upon any note that suited his humour. This vagueness coin- 
 
SCALES 2 J 
 
 cides 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 harmony it was almost impossible for 
 them to organise their scale completely. 
 
 The Qreeks subjected their scales to various modi fic atio n a 
 in the courBe 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 C$, but 
 less than a semitone above the C, which stood next above the 
 lowest note of the old Doric tetrachord; and this was called 
 the chromatic genus. Other experiments were tried in sub- 
 dividing 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 mawkish and insipid, and the enharmonic genus as too 
 artificial. 
 
 The Greek system may therefore be considered to have 
 irrived at its complete maturity in the state in which a range 
 Df 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 after 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 basis 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 
 
2 8 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 melodic systems like that of the ancient Greeks in principU 
 but different in their order of arrangement. 
 
 In the many and various melodic systems of the world, 
 scales are found of various structure, but the building of all of 
 them has evidently been achieved by similar processes. Races 
 show their average characteristics in their scales as much as 
 they do in other departments of human energy and contriv- 
 ance. 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 fanciful in proportion to their 
 inclinations in these respects. The Chinese, as might bo 
 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 extravagant in ingenious grouping of notes into 
 modes; while the Persians and Arabs have been remarkable 
 for their high development of instinct in threading the difficult 
 and thorny ways of acoustical theory in such a manner 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, 
 though the earliest records give examples of scales which are 
 already very complete, implying a very long period of ante- 
 cedent cultivation of the art. In the tenth century they had 
 already developed a scale which has the appearance of being 
 singularly complete, as it comprised all 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 C 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 of the kind so familiar 
 in modern harmonic music, but kept to the forms which were 
 v suitable to a melodic system. They did not, however, long 
 rest satisfied with a scale of such simplicity. By the time of 
 Tamerlane and Bajazet the series of notes had been enlarged 
 by the addition of several more semitones, and had been 
 
 16 
 
8CALES 29 
 
 systematised into twelve modes, on the same principle and for 
 the same purposes of melodic variety as had been the case with 
 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 different names of Octrag, Nawa, and 
 Bousilik. But even 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 unknown to our ears ; as, for instance, one note which 
 would lie between E^ and E, and another between A^ and A, 
 iL the scale of C. The former is described as * 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 treatment 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 perfect scale im- 
 possible, and, to obviate the difficulties which every acoustical 
 theory of tuning presents, they subdivided the octave into no 
 less than seventeen notes. Their object was not to have such 
 a large number of notes to make melodies with, or to employ 
 quarter tones, but to have a copious variety to select from as 
 alternatives. The arrangement 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 C ther§ 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 interval 
 known as the comma of Pythagoras (524288 : 531441). And 
 similar intervals 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 it 
 
30 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 another matter. Even under harmonic conditions, when notea 
 are sounded together, it is impossible for the most expert 
 tuners to make absolutely sure of intervals within such 
 narrow limits as the fiftieth of a semitone ; while it is well 
 known that in melodic systems the successions of notes used 
 by the performers are only approximately true ; for the finest 
 ear in the world can hardly make sure of a true third or a 
 true sixth when the notes are only sounded one after the 
 other. In modern times this remarkable system of the 
 Persians has been changed still further, by the adoption of 
 twenty-four equal quarter tones in the octave. But this plan 
 really lessens the delicate perfection of the adaptability of the 
 system ; for though it looks a larger choice of notes, it 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 had but an uncertain sense 
 of what we call a tonic, and, as far as can be gathered, stopped 
 short of classifying 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 scales ; and though the Indian 
 scales are even more complicated and numerous than the 
 Persian, they have been handed down from generation to 
 generation for ages, 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 unravelling of their system the more difficult. 
 The method used for arriving at the actual scales used by 
 musicians is to ascertain the exact length of the subdivisions 
 of the strings which are indicated by the positions of the frets 
 upon the lute-like instrument called the vina, which has been 
 in universal use for many hundreds of years, and to test and 
 compare the notes which are produced by sounding the strings 
 when "stopped" at such points. The frets are supposed to 
 mark the points at which the string should be stopped witb 
 
SCALES 3 1 
 
 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 get the interval which tradition taught him 
 to be the right one. In fact the frets on different instruments 
 vary to a considerable 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 the modern European 
 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 too complicated to be provided 
 for by a mere arrangement of twelve equal semitones. 
 
 As in the case of the Persian and Arabic system, the 
 Indian scale does not come within the range of intelligible 
 record till it is 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 6'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 extraordinary complexity has taken its place. 
 The actual series of notes approximates as nearly as possible 
 to the European arrangement of twelve semitones; and the 
 peculiarity of the system lies in the way in which it has been 
 developed into modes. The virtue of the system of modes 
 already 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. The 
 system can be made intelligible by a few examples out of 
 this enormous number. Our familiar major mode form! 
 
3 2 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 one of them, and goes by the name of Dehrasan-kftrabharna. 
 Our harmonic minor scale also appears under the name of 
 Kyravani, the Greek modes also make their appearance, and 
 every other combination which it is possible to get out of the 
 semitones, but always so that each degree is represented in 
 some way or another. The extremes to which the process 
 leads may be illustrated by the following. Tanarupi corre- 
 sponds to the following succession — 
 
 C, Dt?, Et?t> t F, G, A| B, a 
 Gavambddi to 
 
 C, D!?, E>, B| G, A>, B», 0. 
 
 This obviously carries the modal system as far as it can go 
 in the way of variety. 
 
 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 descend- 
 ing. 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 as in modern harmonic music certain discords must 
 be resolved in a particular way, but several subordinate notes 
 may be interpolated between the disccrd and the resolution. — 
 An example may make the system clearer. The formula given 
 for the raga called Nada-namakr/a is C, D>, F, G, At>, C in 
 ascending, and C, B, A>, G, F, E, Dt?, 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 At? ascending, and At? may either go to 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. Th« 
 
SCALES 
 
 33 
 
 example of this raga given in Captain Day's Music of Southern 
 India helps to make the system clear. 
 
 In the mode of Maya-milayagaula, and the raga Na la-namakrf i 
 
 j^g^Jf-ci 
 
 By such 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 pent a 
 tonic music, though the Indian music belongs to the heptatonic 
 group of systems ; and close as the restrictions seem to be, 
 it may be confessed that, judging from the examples given, a 
 great deal of variety can be obtained without transgressing 
 them. 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 it more definite character. 
 
 Pursuing their love of categorising 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 are believed 
 respectively to 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 con- 
 siderable antiquity in the established system ; for even peopl« 
 
34 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 who luxuriate in imagery and fancifulness like the Indians, do 
 not attribute divine qualities to a scheme which they them- 
 selves have only devised in comparatively recent times. The 
 whole story points to a considerable gift for the organisation 
 of artistic material ; but it is nevertheless 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 order, all of which 
 appear to have been developed from the basis of the fourth ; 
 and these have served for the highest developments of pure 
 melodic music. Some of the pentatonic 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 strongly marked 
 contrast to the Persian and Indian systems in every way. 
 The passion for making ordinances about everything, and 
 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. 
 A.ccording 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 over- 
 whelmed 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 1300 B.C. the scale is said to 
 
 have cones 
 
 ponded to C, D, E, G, A, /jr 
 
 which may be taken to be the old pentatonic formula. 
 
SCALES 35 
 
 About noo B.o. it was amplified to C, D, E, F& G, A, B, 
 
 i 
 
 Later still, when a great 
 
 Mongol invasion occurred, the Mongols changed the Fg to 3?, 
 and made the scale like our major mode. But then some of 
 the musicians wanted to use F and some FJJ, 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, Fj, G, A, B, C. About a couple of hundred* 
 of years later the Fjf was abolished again, and soon after 
 that the late form of the pen ta tonic scale was adopted, 
 
 which stands as 0, D, F, G, A. (S ^ t 
 
 But meanwhile the Chinese had from early ages a complete set 
 of twelve semitones 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 A alst, the 
 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 measurement. 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 
 
36 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 was perfect and not to be meddled with. But in fact nearly 
 all the intervals were out of tune. The fifth tube would 
 ostensibly give a note a third above the lowest tube — as, if 
 the lowest was C, the second would give G, the third D, the 
 lourth A, and the fifth E. But that note would really be too 
 high, and the intervals would go on getting more and more 
 out of tune till they arrived at the octave, which would be 
 the worst of all. But the matter was 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 sacred principles the " lus " were made 
 of such durable materials as copper and jade ; and though 
 it appears that the "lus" are no longer in use, the system 
 on which they were constructed still regulates the Chinese 
 scale. 
 
 But this must not be taken to imply that all these twelve 
 semitones 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. Practically 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 C, D, F, G, A. The use of the semitones 
 is to enable the series to be transposed bodily, which does nc'. 
 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 celebrated. So if in a ceremony which 
 took place in the first moon the pentatonic series began on 
 C f the hymn woidd 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 
 performance 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 
 
8CALE8 37 
 
 the Chinese system is the most crudely backward and in- 
 capable of development of any of the great melodic systems. 
 But at the same time it must not be ignored that notwith- 
 standing such obstacles, and the fact that musicians are looked 
 ilown 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 pecu- 
 liarly to characteristic effects, and to the production of impres- 
 sions which are more or less permanent Its very restrictions 
 give it an appearance of strangeness and definiteness which 
 attract notice, and with some people liking. 
 
 Nations which have not been so tied and bound by ordi- 
 nances and dogmatic regulations have managed to develop 
 pentatonic systems to a much higher degree of artistic elas- 
 ticity, and the result has naturally been in some cases to 
 minimise the characteristic pentatonic effect. The Japanese 
 were among the foremost to expand their system in every 
 practicable way. They have nominally as complete a series 
 of twelve semitones as European musicians, but, like all other 
 cultivators of melodic music, they only use them to select from. 
 Authorities may be confessed to differ, but their scale-system 
 seems to be pentatonic in origin, like that of 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, E?, G, A> ; another, Kumoi, to C, Dfr, F,* G, A> ; another, 
 Iwato, to C, Lfr, F, G?, Bt ; 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 neithei 
 major nor minor, but between the two. A Japanese musician, 
 
 * Mr. Pigott give* a note equivalent to E. 
 f Mr. Pigott gives a note equivalent to Bt\ 
 
38 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 view seems rather paradoxical; but the frequent 
 occurrence of a fourth with a semitone above the lower note 
 is so like the early tetrachord of the Greeks, with a sensitive 
 downward-tending leading note (see p. 23), that the doubt 
 cannot be said to be without some appearance of justification 
 The mode Kumoi, quoted above, would in that sense represent 
 two tetrachords, C, D^, F — G, A7 C, like those of Olympos, 
 put one above another ; and the effect of them may be gauged 
 by the process suggested on p. 20. 
 
 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 of the scales ; we can only take 
 the results as examined by Mr. Ellis and Mr. Hipkins, whose 
 methods seem thoroughly trustworthy, 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 the 
 intervals exceeds a whole major tone, such as C and D, by 
 a considerable interval, To our European ideas such a scale 
 seems almost inconceivable. To compare it with our major 
 scale of C, the first degree would be from C to a note half- 
 way between D and E£>, 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 B^, 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 F, 
 
8CALES 39 
 
 the third note would be just below G, the next a little below 
 B, and the remaining step would reach the octave C. Thia 
 is evidently a very elaborate artificial development of some 
 simpler pentatonic formula that has long passed out of record. 
 The Siamese system is almost as extraordinar}'. It is not 
 now pentatonic, though supposed to be derived originally from 
 the Javese system. The scale consists of seven notes, which 
 should by rights be exactly equidistant 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 the notes 
 of the European scale. The difficulty of ascertaining the scale 
 used in practice lay in the fact that when the wooden har- 
 monicon, 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 relations of the notes of the scale is so 
 highly developed that their musicians can tell by ear directly 
 a note is not true to their 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 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, as they are tuned empirically by ear. 
 Taking A as a starting-point, tha next note is a little below 
 B ; the next is not C, but almost a neutral third (p. 29) from 
 A; the next very nearly a true fourth above A, that is, a 
 little below our D ; the next almost exactly a true fifth from 
 A, that is, very near E ; the next a neutral sixth from A 
 (p. 29), between E and F; and the remaining note a shade 
 below G. The type is more like the ancient Arabic than any 
 4 
 
40 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 other, and not really the least like the Chinese, though the 
 impression conveyed by the absence of the leading note some- 
 times misleads people into supposing they are akin. Whether 
 it is really a pentatonic scale, as some have thought, is there- 
 fore extremely doubtful. Even if the modes were really of 
 five notes, that is not a proof 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 argument 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 elaborations 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. Similarity 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 mental characteristics and 
 artistic feeling of the races who devised the scales have 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 each other as that the same types of mind 
 working under 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 
 completeness 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 prin. 
 oiples and some of the formulas of melody of the ancient 
 
SCALES 41 
 
 Greek system — in the state to which it had arrived at about 
 the beginning of our era — for as much music as their simp.e 
 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 traditions 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 many 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 conse- 
 quence that they got most of the names wrong. Ambrose 
 authorised four modes, the (1) Dorian, (2) Phrygian, (3) 
 Lydian, and (4) Mixolydian — corresponding more or less to 
 the ancient Greek (1) 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 musicians were only allowed 
 to use the scale of D between D and its octave, by Gregory's 
 arrangement they might use the notes a, b, 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 harmony in the modern sense did not 
 develop into clearness for centuries ; but musicians got mow 
 
+ 2 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 . • a •„;„„ tr> make various melodies go 
 
 find more expert in contriving to make vano a 
 
 tLther without ugly combinations, and by degrees the mean- 
 ^chords and their possible functions in a scheme , rf£ 
 beL to dawn upon men's intelligence. Meanwhile artistic 
 instinct led composers to modify the ecclesiastical mode* 
 Even when they were only used melodically, certain imper- 
 feclons hid made themselves felt. The mediaeval musician. 
 hadTu te an intense detestation of the interval of the aug^ 
 ten^d Wth, such as appears between F and B ; and sing rs 
 were allowed to take the note a semitone lower than B that 
 TbV wherever the notes forming the objectionable interval 
 ^el close together in a passage of melody. £» i« - 
 Tfirst dictated by a feeling for the ugliness of ^ ar £°™ 
 effect of the notes, but for that of their melodic effect, *w- 
 no till men's sense for harmony began to grow and expand 
 Sat the ugliness of the interval in b-monv b-ame equally 
 apparent. Then one modification led to another^ T1 f * d °P 
 
 tne plain song had been generally in the bass, and had been 
 
 *. change in the ^-^f^^^E 
 fpeline for the pure melodic side of music pr« , 
 
 * Way JS, *W paX At first it »as customary to accompany 
 
SCALES 43 
 
 as long as nothing else was added this did very well, though in 
 the favourite modes the accompanying part moved up a whol« 
 tone instead of a semitone. The aspect of things was changed 
 when men found out that it sounded well to accompany the 
 penultimate step of the plain song by the fifth below as well 
 as the third or sixth, as E and C by A, or A and F by D ; 
 
 &^ 
 
 CSD 
 
 w 
 
 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 musicians 
 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, or of D minor to G. To obviate this a sharp 
 was added by musicians to the third of the penultimate chord, 
 as to C in example (a) above, and to F in example (b) } thus 
 creating the upward-tending leading note, and giving a better 
 effect of finality to the progression. 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 those described above, the modes were subjected to 
 further modifications 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 cen- 
 turies 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 
 
44 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 harmonies they had not the least notion whither their coursa 
 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 dis- 
 tinct 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 tonic — gave that 
 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 the third in 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 
 harmony 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. This 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 mani- 
 pulations 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 puts the European 
 harmonic system of music — as a principle suited for th« 
 
SCALES 45 
 
 highest artistic development — at least 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 another; that is, the tuning of the twelve 
 semitones so that exactly the same modes can be started from 
 any note as tonic. But it took men long to face this, and the 
 actual adoption of the principle necessitated a further modi- 
 fication of the scale. 
 
 As long as people could remain content with approximately 
 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 Bfr, Eb', 
 F$, Ctt, and G$. But as their sense for possibilities of har- 
 mony and modulation expanded they began to make Afr stand 
 for G£, and Dt? for C£, and ~Djk for E^, and endeavoured to 
 get new chords and new artistic effects thereby. When they 
 began to find out the artistic value of modulation as a means 
 of contrast and variety, by degrees they came to want to use 
 all the keys. But under the old system of tuning Bfr was by 
 no means the same thing as Att, and any one who played the 
 old GA 0, and E^ under the impression that it was the same 
 chord as C, E, and G transposed, was rudely undeceived by 
 an unpleasant discordance. The men whose instincts were 
 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 proposed 
 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 temperament won the day. The 
 first important expression of faith was J. S. Bach's best- 
 known work, the two books of Preludes and Fugues in all 
 the key 8, called by him the " well-tempered clavier." An 
 
46 THE ART OF MDSIC 
 
 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 
 our system requires. It is completely organised for an in- 
 finite variety of contrast, both in the matter of direct ex- 
 pression — by discord and concord — and for the purposes of 
 formal design. The instincts of human creatures for thou- 
 sands of years have, as it were, sifted it and tested it till they 
 have got a thing which is most subtly adapted to the pur- 
 poses of artistic expression. It has afforded Bach, Beethoven, 
 Schubert, Wagner, and Brahms ample opportunities to pro- 
 duce 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 centuries before any new system 
 is justified by such a mass of great artistic works as the one 
 which the instincts and efforts 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 unconscious types of 
 humanity ; such as unadulterated savages and inhabitants of 
 lonely isolated districts well removed from any of the influ- 
 ences 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 principles upon which 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, as 
 nuclei, are strung together upon any principles which give an 
 appearance of orderliness and completeness ; but the power 
 to organise materials in such a manner does not come to 
 human creatures till a long way above the savage stage. In 
 6uch things a savage lacks the power to think consecutively, 
 or to 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 
 product; and it cannot therefore be expected to be definite 
 or systematic when it represents the intellectual standard of 
 savages. Nevertheless the crudest efforts of savages throw 
 light upon the true nature of musical design, and upon the 
 
4 8 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 ■ v.- >, fc„ m an beings endeavoured to grapple with 
 manner in which human beings . th mus ical 
 
 2 The very futility of the *T^T^J^ an d the 
 fig uraa in the tunes o ^^"Zt an inte.li- 
 gradual development .^«^ ^ ^ general 
 
 gible order i. f*"^ .T*™? kinds £ the human race, 
 development ^^SltLmSm o development are those 
 At the very bottom of the Foce J ^ in them 
 
 If them L^he European musical £~^£X* 
 D atives of Australia are ^"^^^"1 a full octave 
 ^' W JitJ^S by an English 
 ILSTTSX S 22 thing. Every one who hnows 
 
 • • ^ +v,ot the stave notation cannot 
 
 anything about music - awarejat the * ^ soa]e of 
 
 in this case "present the «^ bQt very highly 
 
 correct semitones .s beyond the powers y ^ 
 
 txained singers even - f'^^e Polynesian cannibals 
 
 men t. Another ravell £g%^ A J y to J devoured, 
 
 as gloating over their ^ hvin s ot rising quartet 
 
 and einpng grue-mely sugge tive P ^ S^ ^ ^ 
 
 tones. I^ l8u0h ^ 8t n be ^ th0u t notes that were strictly 
 of the voice up or down, J^° ut n or to anv ge „eral 
 
 defined either m relation ta ones, o in every 8 ta g0 
 
 rreven^ne^ranlauctrand always implies direct 
 
 • „ th. toUowi.g Hawaiian tan. «or the same type ot 
 expression made into music :- 
 
FOLK-MUSIC 
 
 49 
 
 human expression in the action, for it is obviously out of the 
 range of any scale. But in advanced stages of ait it is a 
 mere accessory which the performers use for expressive pur- 
 poses 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 : — 
 
 This simple figure they are said to have gone on sinking 
 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 down- 
 ward fourth as the essential characteristic interval, with a 
 downward-tending leading note (see page 23). A similar 
 example of the reiteration of a single figure is quoted by a 
 traveller from Tongataboo, which is also described as being 
 repeated endlessly over and over again :— 
 
 et cct 
 
 It is extremely difficult to make sure what intervals savages 
 intend to utter, as they are very uncertain about hitting 
 anything like exact notes* till they have advanced enough 
 to have mstruments with regular relations of notes more or 
 toss indicated upon them. But if the latter illustration can 
 be trusted, it represents the nucleus of the pentatonic system 
 • See note at the end of the volume. 
 
THE ART OF MUSIC 
 als0 described by Mr. A. H. ^i^ iar and is0 , at6 d 
 
 continually repeats itself. of native8> the 
 
 «,ntrast of two melodic formoles, A end B. 
 
 And mod. 
 
 and, like children, to renera* the first ph ^ ^ ^^ 
 
 !X2 SiS J3. — g oothin g so -nooh a. 
 
FOLK-MCSIC 
 
 51 
 
 attempts at stories made by excitable children or people ol 
 weak intellect, who forget their point before they are half- 
 way through, and string incidents together which have in 
 reality nothing to do with one another.* There is a most 
 remarkable example of this kind of helplessness in a long 
 Trouvere song in an English manuscript of the thirteenth 
 century. It tells the story of Samson, and begins by reiter- 
 ating a very genial little fragment of tune, 
 
 p=3=^[^^-^ ^ae 
 
 S*m-son dux for-tis - si -me vio - tor po • ten-tis • ii - 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 : — 
 
 f^P-\- j u jg 
 
 It must be confessed that this must either have been improved 
 * See note »t the end of the volume. 
 
<2 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 upon in 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 
 
 Reiteration interspersed among vague meandering indefinite 
 passages of song of a characteristic phrase which has taken the 
 fancy and laid hold of the mind seems to belong to the same 
 order of design as the familiar rondo. A remarkably clear 
 example is quoted from the music of the natives of British 
 Columbia : — 
 
 Solo. 
 
 Em 
 
 
 w=^- 
 
 ^—- 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 P^ P5f 
 
 ^ 
 
 m 
 
 ^U J|J ^ M ^ ^ggi^p 
 
 
 As the standard of human organisation improves, the capa- 
 city to balance things more regularly becomes evident ; and 
 the power to alternate simple figures more systematically im- 
 mediately produces a primitive type of more definite character 
 than the specimen of the rondo above quoted. 
 
 The following example of Feejee music illustrates the type 
 with very fair regularity : — 
 
^UV. JU SJ ^ ^g^s^ 
 
 i 
 
 J M ^- 
 
 S 
 
 T~» H ~'" g: 
 
 « UM - ^ 
 
 ttcct 
 
 This type of design persists through the whole story of 
 musical art with different degrees of extension in the phrases 
 whicli are alternated. The familiar aria form of the middle 
 period of opera is merely an alternation 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 others which 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 examina- 
 tion, and it certainly puts the type in almost the closest limits 
 conceivable : — 
 
54 THE ART OF MUSIO 
 
 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 
 principle of knitting a whole movement together by the 
 reiteration of a characteristic feature. In this case the tor.al 
 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 manage- 
 ment 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 accompaniment to long passages 
 of free melody, as in the slow movement of Bach's Italian 
 concerto, and in the organ 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 " Ring ; " 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 indicates a 
 certain advance in artistic perception 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 
 ia one of the most important devices known to composers for 
 giving unity and intelligibility to progressions, and is used 
 
FOLK- MUSIC 5 5 
 
 constantly by every composer 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 Russian peasant tune quoted in a book of the 
 last century : — 
 
 The second is English of the Eliiabethan era : 
 
 o m w-\*~r ' ' 1 ^ r j r-i 1 ^ 1 1 ~n 
 
 ffi*~& I 4 " T ^ r lLJ J ~ ir If J, IrJ H 
 
 This last represents a much higher standard of musical per- 
 ception, as unity is maintained without strict uniformity 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 iange of the second half, 
 give an excellent principle of contrast ; and the consistency 
 of the principle of contrast is maintained 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 repetitions 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 ). curried out with com- 
 prehensive variety ; and, what is of highest importance in 
 5 
 
56 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 puch a case, the tune is knit into complete unity by the 
 definite a ess of the tonality. 
 
 The principle 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 importance in 
 the scheme, and others 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 incom- 
 plete. This impression of finality is produced solely by the 
 feeling for the key, which is an outcome of long human expe- 
 rience of certain types of progression and melody. In this 
 individual instance the key is understood through the har- 
 monic 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 accus- 
 tomed to melodic music. Indeed, the melodic systems are not 
 well adapted to such forms, since they have none of them any 
 such strong definition of a tonic as is characteristic of har- 
 monic music. The modern European scheme of art rests 
 upon a systematisation of the scale which recognises certain 
 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 principle is perfectly invalu- 
 able for establishing the unity of a piece of music. But it is 
 purely the result of harmonic development, 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 difficult to estab- 
 lish the unity of a piece of music, and the possibilities of 
 variety in intelligible designs are thereby limited. Indeed, 
 long consistent development of a single movement is impos- 
 sible 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 
 
FOLK-MUSIO 
 
 57 
 
 points like tonic and dominant. But, on the other hand, 
 melodic systems admit of an arbitrary choice of any particular 
 note, which can oe emphasised so persistently that it takes 
 rank as a sort of tonic. The pentatonic systems are happy in 
 this respect, because the definiteness of difference in the rela- 
 tion 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, as it is all threaded upon the single note D : — 
 
 It will also serve to illustrate again the same principles as 
 those illustrated by the Russian tune quoted on p. 53, 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, 
 a higher sense for clear and decisive balancing of contrasting 
 phrases, and also the Oriental love of ornamentation : — 
 
 n """"^ 
 
 &55F* 
 
 J 1 k 
 
 
 
 
 
 JP J J 
 
 
 tats^ 
 
 33^ 
 
 
 ^t^ 
 
 §r3 
 
THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 The Indians of the Orient contrive to make long passages 
 of melody ; but the order of the recurrence of the char- 
 acteristic figures is very frequently incoherent. The rondo 
 type is, however, fairly common. But it must be acknow- 
 ledged that many of the tunes are not true examples of folk- 
 music, but rather of a conventional art-music, which represents 
 the skill of more or less cultivated musicians. The ornamental 
 qualities are characteristic features of nearly all Oriental 
 music, and demand more than passing consideration. 
 
 With genuine Orientals the love of unmeaning decorative 
 ornamentation is excessive in every department of mental 
 activity, whether literature, art, or music. This is generally a 
 sign that the technical or manipulatory skill is far in excess of 
 th e e power of intellectual concentration. When mental develop- 
 ment and powers of intellect and perception are too backward 
 to grasp a design of any intricacy or a conception that is not 
 obvious and commonplace, the human creature who is blessed 
 with facility of execution expends his powers in profusior. of 
 superfluous'flourishes. In European countries the type is most 
 commonly met with among popular operatic singers; but it 
 is aim plentiful among showy pianists, violinists, and other 
 virtuosi, who rejoice the hearts of those members of the general 
 public who are as unintelligent as themselves. Indeed, the 
 truth is of wide application, and need not be confined merely 
 to music ; for it is noticeable that people who delight in excess 
 
POLK-MUSIO 59 
 
 of ornament and decoration are almost always of inferior intel- 
 lectual power and organisation. Ornament is the part of any- 
 thing 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 when it is purely a 
 matter of display, it generally implies 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 child-like 
 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 kind 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 dex- 
 terity 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 : — 
 
 HongarUa 
 
60 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 And the oloee >— 
 
 Hungarian. 
 
 Hungarian 
 
 Nearly all the music of South-Eastern Europe exhibits the 
 same traits. The Roumanian folk-music aud 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 fragment is unusually simple in part, but very 
 characteristic as a whole : — 
 
 Similar peculiarities, both of intervals and of ornaments, 
 are shown in the tunes of Smyrna and the islands of the 
 Hellespont. And even in Spain, in the southern districts, 
 and in the Balearic Islands, where traces of Oriental influence 
 are still to be met with in other Hues besides music, the 
 characteristic features of the tunes of Eastern Europe are met 
 with in combination with higher qualities of design. 
 
 Racial differences, which imply different degrees of emo 
 
FOLK-MUSIC 6 1 
 
 tionalism 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 countries. 
 No people attempt folk-tunes mechanically without musical 
 impulse. The very fact of musical utterance implies a genuine 
 expression of the nature of the human being, and is, in vary- 
 ing degrees, a trustworthy revelation of the particular likings 
 and tastes and sensibilities of the being or group of beings 
 which gives vent to it. 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 predilections, 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 circumstances 
 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 complete as melodic 
 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 poignant anguish, and to a fall either re- 
 poseful satisfaction or hopeless despair. Any attempt to infuse 
 6trong 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 com- 
 poser into climaxes and crises at moments 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 
 
62 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 * v~ oWa to brin« more and more expression 
 
 ..has been indicated in "^^/'^STi. „ e 1 off 
 
 the de*.gn ^/^J^J^nsic ; and the way in which 
 
 W * br °t'L th ^-^1 thorZea whose ostensibie 
 
 and an emotional ongm. inclme 
 
 ^ ma ^: r C f 6 ltetype Nonation ia restricted entirely 
 
 SIsssEsaesss 
 
 \ Jncinles If design in all branches of folk-music. The 
 
 rid from "he Macnaia and Feejeee. A primitive but more 
 .nZafnl pattern ia the following Russian peasant a tune .- 
 1 * ! 
 
FOLK-MUSIC 63 
 
 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 emphasises 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 in the two halves ; 
 so that the characteristic anapsest comes at the beginning of 
 the phrases in the first half, and at the end in the second. 
 It is also noteworthy as a very neat little subtlety that the 
 high note which completes the balance of the range of the 
 two contrasting halves of the scale is obtained by a slight 
 variation of the first 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. It is truly extraordinary what an 
 amount of variety proves to be possible. The simplest type 
 of all is A, B, A, without 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 following will serve : — 
 
 Hungarian. A 
 
 frffgs-ir rfe iEpgEi 
 
6 4 
 
 THE ART OF MU8I0 
 
 A 
 
 r^-pi-repf^ 
 
 zmmm^^^mg 
 
 Welsh. 
 
 ^^m 
 
 ^^^^^^^m 
 
 From the mountains of Galicia in N.W. of Spain. 
 A 
 
 UjTW irrn^ ^ 
 
 ±=£z 
 
 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 
 
FOLK-MUSIC 65 
 
 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 
 
 ps^ 
 
 3ty 
 
 i3£ 
 
 a = 
 
 M3 ^^ j ^ ^^P^^ 
 
 V 
 
 ■^t-r 
 
 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. 
 
 i 
 
 ?^£ 
 
 =££ 
 
 TiT-fr- 
 
 fvf=t 
 
 5 
 
 m 
 
 -p — ^ 
 
 ^^B^g^ ll 
 
 Each clause ends on a different note except the first and 
 last, and this gives a very strong impression of variety in 
 unity. 
 
 The device of repeating two different phrases successively 
 (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 it the 
 unity would not be complete. In other words, the tonality 
 supplies the impression of unity, and the successive alterna- 
 tions the contrast. When the tonality is not decisive the 
 
66 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 affect is quaintly incoherent, as in the following Russia! 
 tune : — 
 
 
 *^*fi» 
 
 gg^^fp£=Bg 
 
 t^=* 
 
 3s* 
 
 ~w=+=z 
 
 mgm*E^mms 
 
 Of the same A, A, B, B, with a little coda at the close to 
 strengthen the impression of unity, the old form of the tune 
 M In dulci jubilo" is a good instance: — 
 
 I 
 
 MS .)f A.D. 1305. 
 ft 
 
 -J- 
 
 T* 
 
 e3= 
 
 1=^ 
 
 =£2=^ 
 
 Coda. 
 
 & 
 
 33- ^ CJ 
 
 ^— Us? ~^- 
 
 An illustration of A, B, A, B, with a variation of B to 
 strengthen the close, is the following Slavonic tune : — 
 
 z fflj^ 
 
 In the more highly organised types the simplicity of such 
 methods of procedure is very much disguised. Very ofte» 
 
FOLK-MUSIC 67 
 
 the figures are not repeated in their entirety, but only char- 
 acteristic portions of them, especially those portions which 
 occupy the most prominent positions, such as the first part 
 of the phrase or the figures of the ca lence. 
 
 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 in- 
 stance is the following Scotch tune: — 
 
 >v^tjrH-^nzq ^^ 
 
 
 
 In this the effect of contrast between A and B is mainly 
 achieved by difference of position in the scale, as B is 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 remarkabU 
 
68 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 skill to attain the end of variety of contrast within unity. A 
 tune of this sort indicates a great power of mental concen- 
 tration in the nation which produces 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 concen- 
 tration of design nor often towards any degree of expression. 
 Very simple forms are met with, such as the Galician tune 
 on page 64. 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 types of creatures who do not 
 criticise but only enjoy. The Basques have extraordinarily 
 long rambling tunes, which in a sort of vague way suggest dis- 
 position 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: — 
 
 T=t 
 
 35=t 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 -p-p- 
 
 4_*_g_ 
 
 3^ 
 
 & 
 
 IS 
 
 (', J j^ [ 
 
 When analysed at close quarters there are some interesting 
 and subtle principles of cohesion even in this tune, but the 
 general effect produced is a sort of careless abandonment to 
 impulse. A characteristic feature of Spanish folk-tunes is & 
 curious jerk which commonly occurs at the end of phrases ; 
 and this not only ap pea rs in tunes from various districts of 
 Spain, but has crossed the seas, and continues to appear in 
 
FOLK-MUSIO 69 
 
 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 : — 
 
 ■pfl- 1 * * *'^rW~*- M? } f f • +ttm f * r * * 
 
 (j * i ! — I I ' -J 1 4 I — ' > —J 
 
 There is very little of close-knit orderliness about this tune, 
 but it is a good illustration of an impulsive type, and the 
 sequence in the second half illustrates the same principle 
 of cohesion as the Russian and English tunes on page 55. 
 As an illustration of the Spanish jerk from Sicily a small 
 fragment will suffice : — 
 
 m 
 
 1 — r 
 
 ^=*=£ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 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 sometimes cast on very 
 simple lines, and are melodically attractive, but are not often 
 highly organised or closely knit. 
 
 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 is devoid of marked characteris 
 
70 THE ART OP MU8I0 
 
 tics in the way of eccentric intervals and striking rhythms. 
 Expression is sometimes aimed at, but always in a self-con- 
 tained manner ; that is, in such a manner that both the out- 
 line of the melody and the general distribution of its phrases 
 adapt themselves to closely coherent and intelligible principles 
 of design ; and the designs themselves are on an average of a 
 higher order and represent stronger instincts for organisation 
 than the tunes of other nations which in actual details of 
 material are more attractive. There are certain obvious features 
 in early German folk-tunes which show an inclination for co- 
 herence 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 a 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 dignified flourish in the final cadence, which serves 
 to give additional weight and firmness to the return to the 
 tonic 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, 
 iind never gives the impression of being introduced for the 
 sake of display. A tune, which was printed at least as early 
 as 1535, will serve to illustrate most of these points: — 
 ABO 
 
 Wol - auff wol-aufl ma li.u - ter atiram, Thut uns der 
 
 War nooh bei iei - nem bu - len ligt, Dermach iioh 
 
 i 
 
 a -;: 
 
 *?— r=— Hi ■ . l~j rJ 
 
 t: 
 
 ter ting -en. Ih rfh ^ 
 
 von hin-»*». 
 
F0LK-MUS10 1 1 
 
 £ 
 
 a 
 
 mor • gen - rtit, Wol durch die wolo 
 
 H IK 
 
 I 
 
 
 5=22 
 
 y^f" 
 
 Besides the points above mentioned, the tune indicates a 
 fine sense for knitting things together, by presenting 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 ap- 
 pearing in successive repetitions 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 note- 
 worthy 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 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 metre, 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 impres- 
 sion produced by a large range of these tunes is far more in- 
 tellectual 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 some- 
 thing that will stand the test of close and frequent scrutiny 
 and endure. The light-hearted neas and excitability of southern 
 
72 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 races makes them care less for the element of permanence, 
 which is one of the essential objects of art (see p. 3), 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 impression 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 achieved by consider- 
 able 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 themselves in genuine folk -music With regard to 
 principles of design in general, it may be said that Germans 
 rarely adopt the plan of consecutively reiterating short phrases, 
 either simply or with variations, in the manner shown in the 
 Russian 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 first half is repeated in its entirety at the 
 conclusion of the tune ; and again at times the tune appears 
 to have very high qualities of design which defy anything 
 but a very close analysis. As an example of this type the 
 following especially beautiful tune is worth quoting :— 
 
 i 
 
 J j I II 
 
 5> 
 
 f 
 
 Von 
 
 art, auch rein 
 
 mnd 
 
 ==at 
 
 rr~^- 
 
 1 r- 
 
 m 
 
 ■art, 
 
 •in kron. 
 
 d«r iok mioh hon 
 
FOLK- MUSIC 
 
 73 
 
 SET I fJ- ^^^3^^fe z= ^^ r^ ^ 
 
 (y cn-Wn inr. t'laulj' mir fiir war Aa» hurt r in mir 
 
 I 
 
 i-ben gar, glaub' mir 
 
 fur war das herti in mir 
 
 r J-f*-^ 
 
 -f^nP-ga: 
 
 2Z 
 
 e 
 
 _c?: 
 
 IZ2ZC2 
 
 ±zztz| 
 
 I 
 
 krenkt sich nacb dir dar - umb iob gem auff all deiu er bilff 
 
 JEZZ^i 
 
 W 
 
 *r-n>—rz—^ - 
 
 *—+- 
 
 *=+ 
 
 t=£ 
 
 act 
 
 St 
 
 r, icb bab' nit troi 
 
 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 
 relative minor; which is an alternation very often met 
 with in folk-music, specially amongst northern peoples, such 
 as the Scandinavians. Then there is the contrast of long 
 sweeping phrases and short broken ones ; the variety of the 
 closing notes of each phrase; the long sweep of the open- 
 ing and closing phrases, which are thereby made to match ; 
 and the subtle balance of the curves which constitute 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 
 
 2t 
 
 cJ CJ z J 
 
 And again J— 
 
 i 
 
 EE^ 
 
 i=t 
 
 ^m 
 
74 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 The same interval occurs in Scandinavian tunes, M in th« 
 following from Upland : — 
 
 In more modern German folk-music the influence of harmony 
 becomes strongly apparent. Harmony represents the higher 
 standard of intellectuality in mankind, and the Germans 
 have always had more feeling for it than southern races. 
 In folk-music the harmonic basis is, of course, very simple and 
 obvious ; but it is sometimes very apparent, and shows itself 
 even in a strong inclination to construct melodies on the 
 basis of arpeggios. The Tyrolese adopt arpeggios for their 
 singular jodels, which are the most ornamental forms of vocal 
 music in Teutonic 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 effect 
 which mountain life has upon them is shown by the extra- 
 ordinarily 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 
 Balzburg : — 
 
 gn^ 
 
 ZZ 
 
 e 
 
 3 
 
 £Z 
 
 •a. 
 
 <^t 
 
 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 
 
FOLK-MUSIC 
 
 75 
 
 joyous spirits, than the vehement gestures, the stamping, and 
 the concentration 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 
 evidences 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 principle of design underlies many 
 tunes in which it is just shaded off so as to conceal its obvious- 
 ness. The following is a concise example to the point : — 
 
 m. 
 
 9 
 
 ~S 
 
 -*—*- 
 
 r^r 
 
 &e 
 
 j j ;jm-^ 
 
 t==i 
 
 |A 
 
 T==f 
 
 * * 
 
 & 
 
 *-£rH 
 
 JA 
 
 m 
 
 i i 
 
 ^=^ 
 
 r^ 
 
 a d : 
 
 It is worth noting that the final repetition of A is effectively 
 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 
 71. There are far more instances of reiteration 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 
 
76 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 example, in which there is a large quantity of such reiteration, 
 is the well-known " Carman's Whistle : " — 
 
 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 expression 
 in English folk-music, except in such rare examples as "The 
 Poor Soul sat sighing," and " Willow willow." There is, how- 
 ever, 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 icumon 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, fresh- 
 ness, and variety, than almost any folk-tunes 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 patlorn-type of folk-tune the instinct fo» 
 
FOLK-MUSIC 77 
 
 knitting things closely together is shown to be very remark- 
 able ; and the organisation of the tunes becomes completely 
 consistent from every point of view. A still higher phase 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 •©motional 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 in 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 67) there are many 
 interlaced. Similarly in emotional tunes of the lowest grade 
 there is only one climax, in the most highly organised tunes 
 *here 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.g., " Weel may the keel row "). Hungarian 
 tunes illustrate both types very happily; and the finest 
 tunes in the world combine the emotional 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 : — 
 
 3F3 
 
 £ 
 
 -<? 
 
 m 
 
 ~+^ 
 
7« 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 A 
 
 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 
 i he world, the following from Murcia, in the south of Spain, 
 is worth examining : — 
 
 Slow. 
 
 = g£gr=rN^ jgEl fer ^ 
 
 PP^5^g^l^EE§g^ 
 
 ia^HS^lS^! 
 
 The rises and falls are singularly systematic, and the relations 
 of the different points are admirably diversified, and alwayg 
 well calculated both for relative contrast and human ex 
 presaion. 
 
FOLK-MUSIC 
 
 79 
 
 Irish folk-music — probably the most human, most varied, 
 most poetical, and most imaginative in the world — is partiou- 
 larl^rich in tunes which imply considerable sympathetic 
 sej^^-eness ; and the Anglo-Scotch border folk-music is not 
 faw^aind. In many tunes of these districts the very design 
 itself seems to be the outcome of the sensibility of the human 
 creature. The cumulation of crises rising higher and higher 
 is essentially an emotional method 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 gathering itself together for a still more expressive 
 cry. The Murcian tune is good in this respect, but as a 
 simple emotional type the following Irish tune is one of the 
 most perfect in existence : — 
 
 The extreme crisis is held in reserve till the last In the 
 first half of the tune the voice moves in low ranges of ex- 
 pression, 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 
 
iS utter- 
 
 SO THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 to discuss here. At the beginning of the second half th« 
 voice begins to mount to a higher crisis at C, and intensifies 
 that point by repetition at D, and finally leaps to its 
 most passion at E, and then falls with a wide sweep/ 
 prising one more moderate crisis) to the final cadence, 
 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 operas and 
 such gay entertainments take the place of the spontaneous 
 utterances of the musical impulse of the people. 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 extinction 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 in music needs a genuine impulse in feeling as 
 will 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 delightfulness) are those which manifest the working 
 of the perfectly unconscious instinct for design, and those in 
 which the emotional and intellectual basis of the art is illus- 
 t rated by the qualities of the tunes which correspond with the 
 known characters of the nations and peoples who invent them. 
 Folk-tunes are the first essays made by man in distributing 
 his notes so as to express his feelings in terms of design. 
 Eighty 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 ornamenta 
 
FOLK-MUSIC 8 1 
 
 tion ; serious and strong races, and those with much reserve 
 of disposition, produce very simple and dignified tunes ; and 
 so on in varying degrees. Modes of life and climatic condi- 
 t^m all tell upon the product, and ultimately colour in no 
 l^Pf degree the larger artistic developments which are the 
 counterparts of these slender beginnings. Folk-music supplies 
 an epitome of the principles upon which musical art is founded ; 
 and though a long period had to elapse from the point where 
 conscious artistic music began, during which 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 adopted 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 of 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 pro- 
 fess it. The religion of the ancient Greeks comprised every- 
 thing which expressed the emotional inner being of man — 
 such as dances, theatrical performances, orgies, and an infinite 
 variety of curious ceremonies which expressed 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 :>n rare 
 occasions that eccentric outbursts of ecstatic fervour in any of 
 its professors find utterance in lively gesticulations or rhythmic 
 dance. From the very first the spirit of the religion was 
 most perfectly and completely reproduced in its music, and 
 even the various phases it passed through 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 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY 83 
 
 unfamiliar object ; but nevertheless the spirit of the religion 
 and religious life was essentially devotional and contemplative ; 
 and it followed that all the music employed in church cere- 
 monies was vocal or choral, and almost totally devoid of any 
 rhythmic quality and of everything which represented gesti- 
 culatory 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 har- 
 mony 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 the invention 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 and short 
 notes made orderly and coherent. It is perfectly 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 century till the sixteenth, it is quite 
 another matter ; for the parts were so far from moving upon 
 any principle of accent, that 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 
 
84 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 maintained 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 involved as the growing elaboration 
 of choral music, of that unrhythmic kind which was the 
 natural outcome of religious feeling of the Christian devo- 
 tional type. 
 
 It is very remarkable how soon after the first definite ap- 
 pearance 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 con- 
 tinued to manifest itself more and more as modern Europe 
 slowly emerged from the chaos which followed the collapse of 
 the Roman Empira It is as if harmony — the higher in- 
 tellectual 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 back- 
 ground, and made its appearance mainly as the result of the 
 combination of the separate melodies which various voices 
 lii&g at once. But towards the end of the sixteenth 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 immediate 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 
 ■lowly and laboriously achieved under the influence of the 
 
} 
 
 INCIPIENT HAKMONY 85 
 
 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 genera 
 tion by ear. These were certainly quite unrhythmic and also 
 rather melodically indefinite ; but the circumstances under 
 which they were used were so favourable to their preserva- 
 tion that they possibly obviated the difficulty which such 
 vagueness puts in the way of accuracy of transmission. For 
 anything which is part of a ritual has a tendency to be very 
 carefully guarded, and in course of time to be strictly stereo- 
 typed ; 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 it was nevertheless 
 inevitable that after the lapse of a few centuries the practice 
 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 credentials. It was then 
 that the connection of the music of the Church with the 
 ancient Greek system was definitely acknowledged (as de- 
 scribed on page 41) ; and though the regulations for systema- 
 tising the art did not quite agree with the Greek system, 
 owing to lack of opportunity to discover exactly what that 
 was, the slight discrepancies did not affect the artistic con- 
 sequences that followed. The Ambrosian and Gregorian 
 schemes included a number of vocal formulas, consisting of 
 traditional melodies, which became the basis of an extra- 
 ordinarily prolonged and comprehensive development. Ihey 
 were the few established facts of musical art then existing, 
 and upon them the fabric of modern music soon began to ha 
 built. 
 
 The immediate source of a most important new departure 
 seems to have been the simple 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 
 
S6 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 semi- 
 tones, according to the nature of the scale or key in which 
 the music is written. Thus if two voices 6ing the following 
 
 simple succession of notes together, 
 
 mm 
 
 it is not a reduplication of melodies, but a process of har- 
 monisation. 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, 
 
 PM^ 
 
 Such a progression would have the tones and semitones in 
 the same places in both melodies, but the effect would be 
 hideous to modern ears, and would have been impossible to 
 early mediaeval musicians, because they had not developed their 
 scale sufficiently to supply such conflicting accidentals. And 
 the same difficulties present themselves with all the intervals 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY *$7 
 
 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 effects of harmony, 
 that men only learned to endure even infinitesimally dissonant 
 chords by slow (.'egrees. The combination in which there is 
 the least element of discordance after the octave is the fifth, 
 
 ^) g? and after that the fourth, £\) ^ ' And these 
 
 two were the first which men learned to endure with equa- 
 nimity. It took them centuries to settle down to the com- 
 fortable 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 assailed by the sudden 
 jar. It is a pregnant fact that the process has gone on till 
 the present day, and that the combinations which human 
 ears accept without preliminary 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 passage — 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 combination. The test of 
 complete satisfactoriness for any interval is the possibility of 
 leaving off upon it without giving a sense of artistic incom- 
 pleteness and a desire in the mind for something further. In 
 modem times no chord is complete at the end of a composition 
 which does not contain a third ; but the mediaeval musicians 
 could not even put up with it in the final chord till the art 
 had undergone some five centuries of development. Its rela- 
 tive 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 mediaeval 
 7 
 
If THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 times he would .have wanted somethir ig more bamuM 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 rignifica.ice in the develop- 
 ment of harmonic music. But to people whose minds are 
 chiefly concerned with melodic effects it still seems a natural 
 procedure. Not only is it sometime^ adopted in modern 
 Europe by singers in the streets and by other people of low 
 musical intelligence, 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 ia 
 spared the contamination of modern European popular music, 
 it will probably go through the same phases as early mediaeval 
 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 departure 
 did not really amount to harmonisation, nor did it imply a 
 tense 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 combinations 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) 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY 89 
 
 as an accompaniment to plain-song. The following will illus- 
 trate their skill, about the tenth century, in varying the 
 monotony of consecutive fifths or fourths : — 
 
 r ' r " o g, ^ a 5 e a ^ E 
 
 S-r-c 
 
 Te hu-mi-le* fft-mu-li mo-du-Us ven-«r-an-do pi - i*. 
 
 i 
 
 g?£5 > <3 > g?£?g?g ' g > 
 
 ^ 64444411 
 
 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 inter- 
 vals 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 intermingling a 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 difficulties 
 were enhanced by their attitude towards harmonisation. 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 independent voice part by calcu- 
 lating 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 
 
90 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 of a second, and the organ um (the part added) moves down 
 
 the interval of a third, they will make a fifth 
 
 •^ 
 
 If the chant ascends a third, and the organum descends a 
 tone, they will be at the fifth : 
 
 If the chant 
 
 mounts a fifth, and the organum descends a fourth, they will 
 
 be together : gg 
 
 w 
 
 If the chant descends a second, 
 
 and the organum beginning at the fifth ascends a third, they 
 will make an octave : f\s~ ^ H And similar directions 
 
 were given for a great variety of contingencies in various 
 treatises, both earlier and later. The kind of result obtained 
 may be judged from a fragment of a thirteenth-century 
 hymn : — 
 
 ' /«V fj.™' ^ • rj . ^ . rj . ■ f— F 
 
 
 \^s ^ — 
 
 
 
 E - men -da • toa noa com -men -da Tu - o ns • 
 
 to. 
 
 (£2; "■'^TOr^rwT* - «■* 
 
 
 
 15686 1 S 113 5 
 
 This is what was originally meant by counterpoint. It was 
 point set against point, or note against note ; and nearly 
 .ill the early music in which voices of different calibres were 
 (.unbilled was of this description. Composers found it quite 
 sufficiently difficult to carry out a simple scheme of this kind 
 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 hav« 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY 9 1 
 
 thought of varying the monotony of the simultaneous pro- 
 gressions of the parts until they began to attempt something 
 more than mere two-part counterpoint ; and, moreover, com- 
 posers or singers who first endeavoured to improve upon such 
 homogeneity of the simultaneous motion of parts were ham- 
 pered 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 counter- 
 point came into practice, 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 
 to be inferred that after a time singers began to extemporise 
 improvements and ornaments to the descant, which- made the 
 keeping 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 
 lengths of time that the singers should hold the various notes. 
 The rules which were first devised were curiously complicated 
 and puzzling. There were no bars, and even the relative value 
 of notes varied in accordance 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 successive 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 oonsidi :■ 
 decisively understood and settled, and the task of the singers 
 who had to read them seems almost superhuman. It can 
 only be supposed that they did things very much by ear, as 
 they had done for many previous centuries. But the devices 
 of notation enabled composers to treat their respective voices 
 
92 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 a "canto fermo " 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 in early days is sufficiently indicated by the nature 
 of the productions of the most celebrated composers, which 
 have the same sort of aspect as the artistic efforts of a baby 
 just out of its cradle, when it tries to represent mankind or 
 its favourite animals. It may have been the severity of these 
 difficulties which caused composers to adopt a less laborious 
 hut more hazardous way of arriving at the effect of harmoni- 
 sation ; 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. This may seem a very surprising and even 
 laughable way of obtaining an artistic effect, but in reality the 
 actual practice of combining several tunes together is by no 
 means uncommon. Several savage and semi-civilised races 
 adopt the practice, as, for instance, the Bushmen at the 
 lower end of the human scale, and the Javese, Siamese, 
 Burmese, and Moors, about the middle. In these cases the 
 process usually consists of simultaneously singing or play- 
 ing short and simple musical figures, such as savages habi- 
 tually reiterate, with the addition in some cases of a long 
 sort of indefinite wailing tune which goes on independently 
 of all the rest of the performance. The Javese carry such 
 devices to extremes, producing a kind of reckless, incoherent 
 iisi rumental counterpoint, very much like a number of people 
 playing various tunes at once, with just sufficient feeling for 
 some defiuite central principle to accommodate the jarring 
 elements. The following is a portion of a phonographed 
 record of some Javese music performed by several instru- 
 mental performers. The directions of the stems up and down 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY 93 
 
 indicate the several instruments, and their respective tunes 
 or musical figures can be unravelled by strictly following the 
 notes which have the stems turned the same way. 
 
 
 +=**■ 
 
 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 with- 
 out 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 more easily intelligible when the 
 element of rhythm comes in and makes it possible to base 
 the combination upon short figures, and to present the whole 
 in an instrumental form. Vocal melodies, which are neces- 
 sarily more wide in their range, require much more manipula- 
 tion ; for the constantly changing forms of melody present fresh 
 difficulties of assimilation at every step. But the practice of 
 combining tunes seems to have become universal quite sud- 
 denly, and it led very quickly to fresh developments. And it 
 is worth noting that one of these developments was precisely 
 the same in principle as that adopted by the Bushmen and 
 the Javese and other semi-savage experimenters in such things; 
 which was to accompany the main combination of two melodies 
 by a short musical figure which could be incessantly reiterated 
 as an accompaniment. In mediaeval music this was a sort of 
 nonsense part, and was sung to nonsense syllables, Buch as 
 "Balaam," or "Portare," or "Verbum," or " Angelus," or 
 any other single word which could easily be adapted to a sort 
 of pseudo-rhythmic group of notes, which would fit in wfafli 
 
94 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 the other two or three voices got through their respective 
 tunes. When the word " Alleluia " was chosen for reiteration 
 it presents a rather more sensible appearance ; but this was 
 clearly an accident, as it happens to be used on one occasion 
 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-product 
 resulted : — 
 
 w^ w^^U 
 
 ■ rgPvg. -gggg 
 
 t=± 
 
 1 L 3 I— P=H 
 
 &- 
 
 Povre ae-cors ai en - core re - co - vrd, 
 
 A ma dame que je avoieservi 
 
 
 &eU 
 
 ^1^22 
 
 \=x 
 
 Gaude cborua om - ni - um fi - del - i 
 
 #£ 
 
 s=2 
 
 sz 
 
 » 
 
 An - ga - lot, An • f • • 1 
 
 ge • Ins. 
 
 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 attempted! 
 to combine, and he was necessarily absolved from the rules 
 which theorists laid down for the adding of counterpoint to 
 a canto fermo. The main object seems to have been to get 
 the chief points, on which stress could be laid, to form con- 
 sonances, and to let passing notes clash as they would. And 
 it is very remarkable that the instinct of the composers even 
 in adapting tunes together worked in the direction of succes- 
 sions of fifths and fourths, like those which made up the early 
 form of the organum. The example quoted above is rather 
 an extreme case of independence, if not of recklessness ; but 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY 
 
 95 
 
 even in this case the old type of the organum is discernible 
 in the relations between the lower and the upper parts, which 
 move in fifths and octaves. 
 
 In other compositions by the mediaeval musicians 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 nature of such composi- 
 tions may be best judged from an example of the thirteenth 
 century by the Trouvere poet and musician, Adam de la 
 Hale:— 
 
 f 
 
 3=t: 
 
 mm 
 
 Tan 
 
 SS=£ 
 
 ■si ' &< 
 
 ^ 
 
 fZ 
 
 i 
 
 3*=* 
 
 r 
 
 & 
 
 rai 
 
 - rai 
 
 m 
 
 *^ 
 
 m 
 
 The framework of this fragment consists of a succession of 
 octaves and fifths, which is almost as regular and unchanged 
 as the old diaphony of the ninth and tenth centuries ; but the 
 succession is disguised and made expressive by ornamental or 
 subsidiary notes introduced between the main blocks of octave* 
 
9^ THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 and fifths. The rest of the little song (which would take toa 
 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, such as octaves, fifths, and fourths, it was 
 imp sable 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 average quality 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 century, 
 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. 
 The little rondeau of Adam de la Hale, part of which is 
 quoted above, stands almost alone for genuine expressive- 
 ness, and even a certain attractiveness, amongst a great mass 
 of experiments which are simply chaotically clumsy and 
 homogeneous. 
 
 A still more rare and wonderful exception, which is im- 
 portant on other grounds besides its musical effectiveness, is 
 the 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 bein£ 
 sung as a round by several voices in succession, with a sort 
 of drone bass. It is an almost unique example of its kind 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY 97 
 
 for the time when it was written; and it proves, in a mannei 
 which cannot be ignored, that composers had already at this 
 early date a very definite idea of the canonic form, which 
 was one of the earliest and simplest devices of contrapuntal 
 music, and almost the only one which was cultivated with 
 any success before the sixteenth century. The significant 
 point about this canonic form, in Telation to the evol 
 of musical art, is its singular homogeneousness. It afi 
 hardly any effect of artistic variety or contrast, and of itself 
 no special means of expression. In fact it is really no more 
 than a technical device — a sort of exercise of skill, like any 
 game which men play just for the amusement of overcoming 
 a difficulty. But in these early stages of development the 
 distinction between art and artifice had hardly arisen. Con- 
 sidering the state of the art at the time of its first appear- 
 ance, 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 developed higher artistic sense, one of the most elastic 
 and comprehensive of musical forms was developed on that 
 principle. But in those early days, when musical intelligence 
 was so undeveloped, it was natural that composers should 
 endeavour to follow out a simple contrivance of the sort to 
 the bitter end, and should imagine that they had really 
 achieved an artistic result when they had manipulated the 
 flow of a voice part in such 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 d 
 undoubtedly took the fancy of early composers very stroi gly, 
 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 he 
 denied that canons can be made not only very effective but 
 beautiful; the mistake which most of the early composer! 
 and many modern ones have made is to take the means for 
 
98 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 another 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 orde-. The harmonies are the accident and not 
 the essence of the device ; and the product was in the early 
 examples both rhythmically and structurally incoherent, and 
 so far homogeneous. 
 
 Another defect in the form which is characteristic of un- 
 developed artistic sense is that the voices go on all through 
 without material breaks. There is no relief 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 they gave any voice a 
 rest of long duration, it was generally less for the sake of 
 artistic effect than because they found it so difficult (in a 
 triplum or quadruplum) to keep all the parts in continual 
 activity. One part indeed was necessarily kept going. For 
 it was 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 90. And if this 
 canto fermo stopped, there was nothing left to build upon. 
 Here again the product was homogeneous. 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 completeness supplied were the definite point in the scale 
 from which the start was made, and the conventional close at 
 the end, sometimes, but by no means always, on the same ton* 
 as that from which the movement set out. 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY 
 
 99 
 
 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 accompaniment in another part by a third 
 below or a sixth above in the penultimate step, passing finally 
 into the octave or the unison. 
 
 Modal part. 
 
 Accomp. 
 
 5=^1 
 
 -<S>— <=*- 
 
 Accomp. 
 
 Modal part. 
 
 The whole aspect and texture of this old music is so dif- 
 ferent from the modern style, that it seems almost inconceiv- 
 able 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 substruc- 
 ture of many compositions was a series of such fifths and 
 octaves disguised by ornamental notes and passing notes. In 
 other particulars also the difference from modern views ia 
 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 
 
IOO T1IU ART OF MUSIC 
 
 that of .another voice part, and, as it were, disregarded what 
 its neighbour waa doing for a short while, till it landed upon 
 some note which brought it again into consonance 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. Tin 1 early phase of the progress of harmony 
 from homogeneity to heterogeneity 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 degree of consonance is scarcely marked 
 enough to afford a sense of contrast. When the force of 
 circumstances drove composers to use the less perfectly con- 
 sonant combinations of thirds and sixths, they enlarged the 
 scope of their resources, and their materials became more 
 systematically heterogeneous ; but it took them a long time 
 to realise the effects which could be made by using thirds as 
 contrasts to more perfect consonances. Ultimately the com- 
 posers with the higher instincts learnt to use the qualities of 
 the different consonances for relatively similar effects of con- 
 trast 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 result of jostling passing notes only, but syste- 
 matically introduced and under artistic control. They 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 appearance 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 t« 
 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 
 aiotets made up of several tunes twisted and hammered into 
 
INCIPIENT HARMONY IOI 
 
 a dubious conformity by degrees ceasea to make tbeir appear- 
 ance. Composers still had to make their counterpoint upon 
 the basis of a canto fermo, or a canon, or some equally primi- 
 tive device, because without some kind of regulating principle 
 they wandered and were lost like children without guides 
 But a more musical spirit pervaded tlieir attempts, and tin j 
 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 interdependence. The 
 influence of the old homogeneous organum ceased in 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 varying the amount and dis- 
 tribution 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 imitatively ; 
 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 composers borrowed were 
 put into such enormously long notes that whatever indi- 
 viduality there was in them inevitably disappeared. It is 
 quite impossible 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 move- 
 ments, 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 BOine 
 technical difficulty. Their minds were so fully occupied with 
 the difficulties they hadjfco overcome that they could think of 
 
102 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 iittle els©. -And even up to the end of the fourteenth century 
 the effect produced by getting a certain number of voices to 
 go together at all seems to have been so new and attractive 
 that it was hardly necessary 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 prescribed by 
 ecclesiastical authority, and such rules of counterpoint as 
 ecclesiastical theorists discovered, pervaded such secular music 
 as there was quite as much as the genuine Church music. 
 There were plenty of attempts made to compose 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 independent 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 oufcide frbeAie 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 harried and ruined 
 by the Church the impulse dwindled and ceased. 
 
 But the crude efforts of the early contrapuntists, whether 
 secular or ecclesiastical, served as the immediate foundation 
 of one of the greatest eras in the history of musical art, and, 
 through that era, as the ultimate source of the characteristic 
 system of harmony which forms the distinguishing feature of 
 modern music. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE ERA OF PURE CHORAL MUSIC 
 
 The early period from the ninth till the end of the fifteenth 
 century was, as it were, the babyhood of modern □ usic, when 
 ideas and modes of musical thought were indefinite, un- 
 systematised, and unpractical. The Church, like a careful 
 mother, watched over and regulated all that was done, and 
 the infantile efforts scarcely emerged at any time into definite- 
 ness either of form or expression. 
 
 The two centuries which followed, up to the beginning of the 
 seventeenth century, wore the period of the youth of modern 
 music — a period most pure, serene, and innocent — when man- 
 kind 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 sterner experiences of life have 
 quite awakened him to its multiform realities and vicissitudes. 
 The manner in which the inevitable homogeneity of an early 
 6tage of art presents itself is still discernible from every point 
 of view. The most comprehensive fact is that almost all the 
 music of these two centuries is purely choral — that is, either 
 j*written for aeveral voices in combination without independent 
 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 proceases which are fit to be used by voices alone are 
 more limited in range and variety than those which can be 
 employed by instruments, owing to the greater difficulty of 
 taking awkward intervals 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 principle* 
 
 
104 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 >ccupied 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 constantly 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 music 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 incite- 
 ment 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 dis- 
 tracted by the varieties of style and taste which have been 
 developed, in the necessary course of musical evolution, for 
 different artistic purposes, such as the theatre and the concert- 
 room ; and they often introduce the formulas which belong to 
 one kind of art into another to which they are quite unsuited ; 
 but in the early days there were no such distractions. Men'i 
 minds were occupied by the conditions of choral performance 
 alone ; and the better they understood what they were trying 
 to do, the more refined and pure their artistic methods became 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC 105 
 
 The turning-point from the helpless experimental crudity 
 which marks the infancy of the art, to the comparative cer- 
 tainty of aim and execution which indicates its healthily 
 maturing youth, was somewhere about the end of the fourteenth . 
 century. The state of transition is most strongly apparent/ 
 in the works of the English composer Dunstabje^who in some 
 works still illustrates the bewilderingamorphousness of the 
 early stages of the art, and in others shows a fair mastery 
 of both design and general effect ; casting his vocaljnovemenis 
 in thoroughly intelligibl e design s, and disposing his voice 
 parts so as to obtain a really attractive quality of sound, not 
 for the casual moment only, but in passages which are suf- 
 ficiently long to be artistically effective. It marks no little 
 advance in skill and in the mastery of technique, when com- 
 posers were able to look beyond the mere overcoming of 
 incidental difficulties and to make use of their devices for 
 a purpose; and after Dunstable's time a definite purpose of, 
 some sort is more and more apparent in all they attempted. 
 
 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 effect s which are more 
 noteworthy for their beauty than for definiteness of expres- 
 sion and variety of characterisation. Distinctive definiteness 
 of expression was certainly not the aim of the composers of 
 the great choral period ; 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 simple purpose of making groups of various 
 voices produce 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 Jbasis^ 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 
 
106 THE ART OP MUSIC 
 
 'emotions which expressed themselves vocally rather than by 
 animated gestures, it followed that all this music was un- 
 rhythmic; and consequently it was also divested of all that 
 kind of regular orderliness of structure which seems so in- 
 dispensable in the maturer art of modern times. 
 
 It is true that composers had successfully elaborated 
 methods for regulating the lengths of the notes, but the 
 establishment of principles of relative duration tended rather 
 to obscure the rhythmic or metrical order of the music than 
 to define it at 6rst, owing to the manner in which they applied 
 them. The reason for this lay in the strong feeling musicians 
 had 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 in- 
 dividual voice part should be pleasurable to sing, and the 
 more subtly the independence of each singer or voice part 
 was suggested, the more fascinating 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 
 another moved, one came to its highest climax at one moment, 
 and then descended, while another, as it were overlapping, 
 moved up in its turn to another climax, and then in turn 
 gave way. And as the skill of composers in managing such 
 progressions 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 voice took its place. 
 
 The tendency of all such devices was to obscure the 
 rhythmic element of the music. But the necessity for 
 orderliness in the relative lengths of notes brought about 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC 107 
 
 a clear recognition of underlying principles upon which the 
 strong and weak accents were grouped. The mere fact that 
 Borne 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 proportionate 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 
 another. In respect of pure contrapuntal skill, the beauty 
 of effect of such devices depended 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 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 began to perceive the value of 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 became a most fascinating study to find out 
 how to control 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 ful- 
 ness or slightness which were required for the attainment of 
 satisfactory general effect. 
 
 The artistic problem was obviously by no means simple, 
 and though there was little to distract composers or divert 
 their energies into other lines of artistic speculation, very few 
 arrived at complete mastery of resource and complete percep- 
 tion of the various shades of chord effect which are as necessary 
 to the artistic result as the actual management of the strand* 
 
Io8 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 of the counterpoint. But in one short period at the lattef 
 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 of their labour was 
 a unique phase of a pure, and as it were ethereal beauty, too 
 delicate to satisfy mankind for long, and destined to be brought 
 to an end by a period of reactionary experiment which pro- 
 duced 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 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 contrast to the elaborate contrapuntal 
 methods 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 shifting 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 simpler mode of procedure; 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 (he same notes to different 
 syllables. This style is far more like the familiar modern 
 processes of harmonisation ; but there remains this marked 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC 109 
 
 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 also 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 kind of procedure was very 
 great, for it not only called men's attention more directly to 
 the 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 
 occasions, 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 important result of the adoption of a simpler 
 method of harmonisation was that it awoke in men's minds a 
 new perception of the aspects of harmony pure and simple, and 
 a change of attitude towards design, which is betrayed by their 
 very helplessness in sustaining the interest in a long passage 
 which is harmonic 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 m adrig als, which were written under the same artistic 
 conditions as the Church music, and aimed by similar treat- 
 ment 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 Axcadelt in the middle 
 
IIO TIT K A UT OF MUSIC 
 
 decades of the sixteenth century — were singularly simple in 
 their hai*monic aspects, as the harmonies were allowed to 
 move very much in blocks and to present the simple rhythms 
 of the poems set, without the disguise of the familiar cross 
 accents and the subtleties of choral counterpoint. It was under 
 such circumstances 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 har- 
 monies 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 deal with the development of a long movement success- 
 fully on any lines but the contrapuntal ones with which they 
 were familiar. When Arcadelt and his contemporaries tried to 
 sustain the interest 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 
 harmonic 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 works made them more 
 and more accustomed to tho possibilities of harmony of the 
 simpler kind, and in a great many smaller madrigals the 
 composers soon hit upon very definite and tuneful effects 
 which differ from modern works of a similar kind only in the 
 quaint and attractive peculiarities inevitable to harmonisa- 
 tion in the old ecclesiastical modes. In the madrigals of 
 the best time the finer contrapuntal methods were generally 
 adopted ; but men had so far progressed towards under- 
 standing 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 treatment of modulation of the modern kind ; which 
 implies a conception of art quite alien to the purely contra- 
 puntal and modal methods of the great choral composers, 
 A little consideration will show that the capacity to /eel 
 
PUKE CHORAL MUSIC III 
 
 the artistic effect of a change of key implies the adoption of 
 a new attitude in relation to art which is of the first import, 
 ance. 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 position of the centre 
 round which a uniform series is grouped ; and the beauty of 
 the effect is partly derived from the identity of order in rela- 
 tion 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 C, 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 considered offensive and inartistic, or to make 
 the close of the movement satisfactory to the ear. The idea 
 of introducing an F# into a passage in order to make a modu- 
 lation from C to G, or a Bl? to pass from C to F, was alien to 
 the very heart of the modal system. When B!?- was intro- 
 duced it was because the interval of the tritone or augmented 
 fourth between F and B was disagreeable; and when men 
 found that the introduction of a flat to B produced the very 
 interval they wanted to avoid between Bfr and E, they evaded 
 the obnoxious interval again by adding a flat also to E when- 
 ever 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 effect of a melodic passage. 
 The sharps were introduced on grounds which were less purely 
 melodic, as the dissatisfaction in a cadence consisting of the 
 
f I 2 THE ABT OP MUSIC 
 
 succession of the chords of D minor and G, which drov* 
 musicians to sharpen the F, implies quite as much sense of 
 the need for a penultimate major chord (which is a harmonic 
 consideration) 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 supplementary notes had been added 
 for one purpose, oomposers very soon made use of them for 
 other purposes. They soon saw that it gave them an addi- 
 tional means of effect, and without thinking of anything 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 Fj{ and F& or Q* and 
 Cfl 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 experi- 
 ments to which modern ears, though as a rule tougher than 
 ears of the sixteenth century, will not accord any appreciation. 
 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, 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 were not remembered 
 that the old modal system was quite unfitted for the artistic 
 purposes of harmony, and that the assimilation of modes into 
 a system of keys was a necessary preliminary to the develop- 
 ment of true harmonic music of the modern kind, and of 
 those principles of harmonic design which are vital to it> 
 existence. 
 
 The masters of the great choral period never arrived at i 
 definite acceptance of the contrast between tonic and domi- 
 nant as a basis of design ; but they understood the principle 
 wall enough to use progressions of such chords effectively it 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC I I 3 
 
 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? major, E minor and G, D minor and F. 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 counterpoint 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 contrast in the design which is familiar in modern 
 music. But they soon found out the advantage of making 
 subordinate 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 accidentals, till the 
 relation in which whole passages stood to one another was 
 sufficiently 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 were 
 driven to experiment in rhythmical grouping of periods more 
 like modern harmonic 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 manage- 
 ment of voice parts brought into being a variety of popular 
 forms which went by the names of Canzonas, Frottolas, and 
 Villanellas, many of which were simple arrangements of 
 popular street tunes, such as, but for the universal influence 
 of the modes, would resemble modern part-songs; and bi 
 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 of these works reacted upon the 
 higher types of art, such as the madrigals ; and in the latest 
 phase of that form of art, which is represented at its beat in 
 
114 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 England during 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 rhythmic than it had been in earlier 
 generations. The balance of style was admirably sustained 
 by the great masters of the English school, Byrd, Wilbye, 
 Weelkee Benet, 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 expansion of the style in these directions 
 bore with it the seeds of dissolution; and as soon as com- 
 posers endeavoured to enlarge the scope of choral music yet 
 further by imitating the methods of the early operas and 
 cantatas, the mediaeval type of choral art passed into mongrel 
 forms, and very shortly ceased altogether. 
 
 In connection with the dissolution of the early form of art, 
 it is impossible to overlook the fact that branches of art which 
 were completely in the background and were held of but small 
 consequence at the time when pure choral music was at its 
 highest perfection, had great influence in bringing the era 
 of its prosperity to an end. For even long before the days 
 of such unique masters of choral art as Palestrina, and 
 Lasso, and Gibbons, men had begun to divine that there were 
 possibilities of new effects, and a wide extension of artistic 
 resources to be got out of music for instruments. And even 
 while these great masters were busy enriching the world with 
 their masterly achievements, other men were busily making 
 crude experiments in instrumental music, which were among 
 the most potent influences in leading the world to prefer new 
 kinds of music to the choral masterpieces of the latter part 
 of the sixteenth century, and served to supply the sub- 
 stratum upon which the experimenting revolutionaries of the 
 next generation began to build. While men had so much of 
 their attention concentrated upon developing artistic methods 
 which were most suitable for human voices in combination; 
 instruments had naturally been considerably in the background, 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC I I $ 
 
 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 which had long 
 been in use were by degrees improved under the influence of 
 men's growing appreciation for beauty of tone and refinement 
 of feeling for execution, and before the end of the sixteenth 
 century, even when the great masters of choral music were 
 in the heyday of their artistic prosperity, the earliest repre- 
 sentatives of the unique and incomparable school of Italian 
 violin-makers were already busy with their inimitable work, 
 In kindred lines of workmanship men arrived at great per- 
 fection in the making of those troublesome but very fascinat- 
 ing domestic instruments, 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 approaching 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 independent 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 madrigals, or wrote music in imitation of 
 any of the varieties of choral music ; not realising that withoutl 
 the human tones and the varying degrees of effort and tension! 
 in the vocal chords, which gave expression to the rising and! 
 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 performers to play ; but 
 apart from such personal considerations, 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. 
 
 The case was different with dance tunes, for in such 
 rhythmic ranges the instruments were in their proper sphere. 
 
I 1 6 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 There is a very large quantity of such music for stringed in- 
 struments and harpsichords which represents the crude and 
 primitive types of later sonatas and suites. These little 
 works 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 in the composer. 
 They indicate a dim sense of abstract effect only in the alter- 
 nations of quick and slow dances, and of dances in rhythm of 
 three or four beats, and in attempts to regulate the structure 
 of the individual dance tunes into equal and balancing groups 
 of bars. The backward condition of the technique of perform- 
 ance on stringed instruments accounts for a good deal of the 
 crudity and absence of expression in the music written for 
 them ; for mankind developed their skill in performance quite 
 as slowly and laboriously as they developed the technique of 
 composition ; and the progress of both invention and execution 
 has been at all times to a great extent interdependent. 
 
 The standard of lute music was slightly better than that of 
 the music written for other stringed instruments. The instru- 
 ment 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 performance 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 
 also of fanciful movements which weald correspond to free 
 preludes or fantasias in modern music. What gives these 
 works a higher importance in relation to later instrumental 
 music than the early viol music, is, that the element of 
 personal skill and expression is much more apparent in them, 
 and that the style is on the whole much more independent 
 and more distinctively instrumental. The development ot 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC 117 
 
 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 material 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 such works and groups of movements formed the 
 basis of a long and continuous 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 nearest relatives 
 attained but slight independence in the days of the great 
 choral composers. Arrangements were made of choral music, 
 and imitations of the same were attempted ; and a fair quantity 
 of dance tunes similar to those written for the violins or viols 
 was produced. Some lute music was adapted, and a certain 
 number of independent fantasias and preludes were contrived; 
 which were sometimes written in the choral style, and sometimes 
 consisted 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 functions 
 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 experimenting in solo music, and 
 the results they attained to were as fruitful as they are 
 instructive. As in othor branches of instrumental music, 
 they frequently imitated the contrapuntal methods of choral 
 
I I 8 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 music, and with more appropriate effect. But following th« 
 natural instincts of human kind, they endeavoured to adorn 
 these movements with flourishes and turns and all the avail- 
 able resources of ornamental variation. They also developed 
 a kind of performance which, without disrespect, may be 
 compared to very bad and unintelligent modern extempori- 
 sation. The systematisation of chord progressions had yet to 
 be achieved, and even the ablest composers were therefore, 
 through lack of opportunity, 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 imperative. 
 They therefore devised toccatas and fantasias, which consisted 
 of strings of gcale-passages, turns, and shakes, upon succes- 
 sions of chords which are for the most part completely in- 
 coherent. 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 coherence 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 
 ■oale, and were the direct prototypes of the magnificent organ 
 
PURE CHORA L MUSIC 119 
 
 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 born in tin- 
 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, their ultimate predominance did not obliterate 
 the traces of the earlier polyphonic style so completely as 
 was the case in violin and harpsichord music, nor did their 
 concomitants entirely obscure the time-honoured dignity of the 
 early contrapuntal traditions. In other branches of instru- 
 mental music harmonic conditions necessitated the develop- 
 ment of an absolutely new style and new methods of art. In 
 organ music the old methods and something of the anciejit 
 style were retained, and were only modified by the ne.w con- 
 ditions so far as was necessary to make the design of the 
 movements systematic and intelligible in general and in detail. 
 It remains to consider shortly the essential artistic methods 
 and principles 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 the conception then formed of good vocal parts only the 
 simplest diatonic intervals were admissible, and only the very 
 simplest chords. It was unnatural for voices to assume discord 
 ant relations with one another directly, so the only discordfi 
 allowed were such as were purely transitory, or such as wr< ri 
 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, 
 8 
 
I 20 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 ti rid 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 nob satisfied till the source 
 of disquiet is intelligibly merged in a more reposeful combina- 
 tion. In a perfect work of musical art there is no absolute 
 point of repose between the outset and the close. 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 con- 
 text 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. The problem is so complicated and 
 delicate that it is quite beyond the powers of mere calculation ; 
 and its difliculty — combined with hundreds of other artistic 
 problems of similar delicacy — accounts for the great length of 
 time that human instinct has taken to arrive at the status of 
 modern music. The difliculty 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 dis- 
 cords, even of the gentle kind above described ; and they 
 obtained variety by making use of the more delicate shades 
 of difference in the actual qualities of various concords, whose 
 resolutions 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 
 suggested complete finality. 
 
 It was natural that the representatives of typically different 
 races should adopt artistic methods which led to somewhat 
 different results. The Netherlander, who took the lead so 
 prominently in the fifteenth century, always had a taste for 
 ingenuities and for subtleties of artistic device. It was the 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC 121 
 
 Netherland composers who carried the homogeneous form of 
 the canon to such extremes of futile ingenuity ; but it was 
 also their great composers who achieved all the most arduous 
 part of the early development 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, masterlv 
 flow of separate voice parts seems naturally to result in per- 
 fect combinations of sound ; in Lasso's work it is easy to see 
 the deliberate ingenuity which contrives some weird unex- 
 pected successions, and makes chords melt into one another 
 in ways which have a touch of magic in them; and Josquin 
 and Hobrecht, notwithstanding 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 its works show many traits of 
 a later order of musical art than do the purest Italian examples. 
 But the same premonitions of a great change are also plenti- 
 fully shown in the works of the adventurous composers of 
 Venice, especially those of the great Giovanni Gabrieli ; who, 
 besides producing many superb examples of the true old choral 
 style, endeavoured to introduce the element of direct expres- 
 sion both by harmony and figure, and tried effects of instru- 
 mental accompaniment which belong to a different order of art 
 from that of the pure choral era, and made many experiments 
 which 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 indefiniteness appears 
 to be universal. This is especially the case in respect of the 
 
122 THE ART OP MUSIO 
 
 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. 97). The device 
 has occasionally been made interesting by clever treatment, in 
 fcpite of its drawbacks ; but this does not nullify 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 early composers had but few. 
 Their treatment of musical figures and melodic material is 
 Fingularly vague. The familiar modern practice of using a 
 definite subject throughout a considerable portion of a move- 
 ment, or at certain definite points which have a structural 
 importance, is hardly to be met with 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 singu- 
 larly elastic, and even if the first half-dozen notes presented 
 similar contours 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 
 1 • ference 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 things was quite 
 foreign to their aims. The same is the case with all principles 
 of structure cither in general or in detail. Occasionally com- 
 p. Ben produced striking effects by sequences, and by giving 
 parallel passages to different groups of voices or balancing 
 choirs; but such devices were not of general application, 
 ionally also the beginning and end of a movement were 
 made to correspond; 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 definiteness and 
 
PURE CHORAL MUSIC I 23 
 
 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 
 I 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 
 incarnation, 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 occupies 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. In the matter of expression again the same absence of 
 definiteness and variety is noticeable, partly in consequence of 
 the limited and uniform nature of the scales. As each com- 
 plete piece of music was subject to the rule of some special 
 mode, all the sentiments contained in it were restricted by 
 the characteristics of the mode employed. If it was what a 
 modern musician would call minor in character, the musical 
 expression for the " Gloria " had to be got out of it as well as 
 that for the " Miserere." And though the use of accidentals 
 modified modal restrictions to a certain extent, the modifica- 
 tions were not sufficiently general to obviate the fact that in 
 detail a piece of music had to follow the rule and character of 
 the mode rather than the sentiment of the words. Indeed, this 
 is so far the rule that the attempt to introduce direct expres- 
 sion into the scheme at the expense of modal purity was 
 among the immediate causes of the rapid decay and collapM- 
 of the whole system of the old 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 
 
I 24 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 was based on consonant harmonies ; and the discords, 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 with- 
 out 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 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 
 subdivision of the period was into sacred and secular music. 
 But the higher class of secular music was very much like 
 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 perception of the qualities of chords 
 when sung by voices, and wonderful skill in manipulating 
 the melodic progressions of the separate voice parts so as to 
 obtain very subtle gradations of variety in the succession of 
 these chords. While they were achieving these matters, com- 
 posers unconsciously developed a feeling for the classification 
 of such chords in connection with certain tonal centres. The 
 almost universal practice of the "musica ficta" which entailed 
 the modification of the modes by accidentals, brought the effect 
 of tonality more and more into prominence, especially in the 
 cadences ; and by these processes the basis was formed for the 
 new departures which ensued; and with the help if the insigni- 
 ficant attempts at instrumental music, which were made even 
 while the art of unaccompanied choral music was at its highest 
 perfection, the materials which formed the groundwork and 
 footing of the structure of the latest modern art were supplied 
 
J 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC 
 
 Without taking into consideration the many external causei 
 which 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 development 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 priva- 
 tion, drove men of the highest taste and refinement, and 
 such as were most thoroughly in touch with the spirit and 
 movement of roeir 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 wellbeing 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 intelligent 
 efforts of previous generations. To a mind so constituted 
 a sweeping rejection of the judgment of ancestry is like 
 cutting away the very ground upon which things are built ; 
 
126 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 and the immediate result of sweeping reforms generally 
 justifies conservative forecasts. To the conservative 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 against all the best grounded 
 principles of art, and the offspring of brains which were 
 childishly regardless of the most obvious consequences. 
 The reformers, with the hopefulness characteristic of en- 
 thusiasts, though^ they could dispense with all the fruits 
 of past experience, and develop a new art on the basis of 
 pure theoretic speculation. / They gase- up the subtleties of 
 polyphonic uniting and the devices which were natural to 
 choral music ; the beau^ul effects obtainable by skilful 
 combinations of voice pWts ; the traditions of a noble 
 style, and the restrictions which made it consistent 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 experiences!^ guide to the 
 artistic means. / 
 
 But they had to adopt unconsciously mucn that their pre- 
 decessors had built up for them. It was ? as often happens 
 in revolutions, when 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 «ude application 
 of chord effects of which they could have hM no concepRon 
 without the development of choral polyphony which their 
 predecessors had laboriously achieved. Their first experiments 
 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 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 complicated edifice of modern art 
 could never have been achieved. The conservatives wer* 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC 12; 
 
 perfectly right in foreseeing that the methods of the new art 
 would immediately bring the old .jtrt 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. Thex ainaed, with a sobriety 
 which was artistic at least in its reticence, at devising means 
 to combine music and poetry, so that tm two arts should 
 enhance one another. They tried to find some simple musical 
 way of declaiming sonnets, poems, and playsflfcth a single 
 voice, accompanied by such gentle instruments as lutes and 
 harpsichords. The idea was nowtotally new, for theatrical 
 representations with music and a kind of declamation had 
 been attempted before ; solo music of a kind had been prac- 
 tised 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, but occa- 
 sionally also for crude experiments more of the nature of 
 abstract art. But nevertheless they had to begin almost from 
 the beginning, 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 the 
 poetry in musical sounds whose relations of pitch imitated 
 the inflections of the voice in ordinary declamation ; and they 
 were satisfied with an accompaniment which consisted of 
 nothing more than simple chords, such as they had grown 
 accustomed to hear 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 to lead them to imagine that a 
 similar practice was advisable in music associated with words. 
 
f28 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 complete verse of the poetry, the same chord 
 should appear at the beginning and at the end of the phrase. 
 The development of sense for chord relationship had pro- 
 gressed 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 struc- 
 ture of the p«feages themselves remained incoherent, because, 
 apart from the cadence, composers did not recognise the 
 essential importance of thi^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 the obstruction did not 
 cease even when the new music 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 in- 
 fluenced by the conventions of the modes, they constantly 
 made the harmonies move in directions which rendered 
 nugatory the one chord which was necessary as the principal 
 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 and intelligible 
 connection with certain tonal centres, and that the centres 
 round which the successive passages are grouped shall have 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC I 29 
 
 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 hail 
 no experience of such effects, and jumbled up their chords 
 together incoherently. They thought of littl< vary- 
 
 ing 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 do 
 principle of necessary cohesion beyond the occurrence of 
 cadences. The course of the early operas wanders on 
 through pages of monotonous recitative, varie'l only here 
 and there by little fragments of chorus or short dance tunes, 
 which are almost as innocent ofimelody or design as the 
 recitative itself. 
 
 This obvious condition of homogeneity appears not only in 
 the structure of these works, but also in the expression ; for 
 whether poignant anguish or exuberant joy is the tlieme, 
 there is hardly any variety in the style of the music, which 
 has therefore hardly any function beyond formalising the 
 declamation. In Rinuccini'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. Consequently 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 set! 
 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 I 
 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 complete 
 to afford safe inferences as to the aims and methods <>f the 
 new school; and the manner in which Peri treated the 
 two highly contrasted situations above alluded to is very 
 
130 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 instructive. The following is the passage which was then 
 held adequate to express the poignancy of Orpheus' feelings 
 over his loss : — 
 
 Voice. 
 
 Aoootnp. 
 
 m 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■#-gt-#- 
 
 b=t 
 
 ^C=^ 
 
 ^^m 
 
 O mio core O mio speme, O pace O ri - ta 
 
 ^ 
 
 2*±?± 
 
 -s>- 
 
 ~3~~&~V 
 
 \ h - b^S ^P 
 
 ^=s^ 
 
 
 i*-fc*- 
 
 ■fe-ftg^- 
 
 Ohi - dm Cbi mi t'hatol - to Chimit'ha 
 
 feS: & 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 :p^ 
 
 yp&r 
 
 fe j^M^^ 
 
 et cet. 
 
 tol - to Ohi-me 
 
 to segi - 
 
 «o ^ 
 
 a. *t£ i 
 
 The following is the music in which he expresses his joy at 
 bringing his lost bride back to the light of day : — 
 
 Vote* 
 
 S 
 
 :gt 
 
 ^zr 
 
 33=3 
 
 te al canto mio 
 
 
 *=F 
 
& 
 
 y=r 
 
 THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC 
 
 131 
 
 p: 
 
 ^P^P^ 
 
 £ 
 
 ■el • Te fron-do 
 
 Uio-i 
 
 m 
 
 p 
 
 H 
 
 ' -f- ff^ -cr 
 
 ^ 
 
 fr 
 
 *=±=i 
 
 ^==sz 
 
 S 
 
 col - U 
 
 J§L 
 
 d'ogni In - tor 
 
 m 
 
 r# 
 
 s 
 
 4=t 
 
 iE 
 
 :^- 
 
 3=i 
 
 3± 
 
 00 rim-bom 
 
 t^ u; ^ § 
 
 ss 
 
 bi dalle 
 
 1— 
 
 The texture of the two passages is obviously very similar ; 
 but it is well not to overlook the points which show some sense 
 of adaptation to the respective states of emotion. Both pas- 
 sages afford fair opportunity to a competent singer to infuse 
 expression into the ostensibly bald phrases. And, besides 
 this, they lend themselves very happily to the requirement* 
 of the situations, and show the justness of the composer's 
 instinct in those respects in which artistic technique is not 
 'ivy 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 tnese can be effected by intelligent 
 beings without much training or experience ; but the detaili 
 
U3 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 are carried out crudely and baldly, for the day was still far ofl 
 when men learnt how to make anything artistically appropriate 
 of the instrumental accompaniment. 
 
 There is very little in the works of the other representa- 
 tives of this new departure which indicates views or skill in 
 any special degree superior to Peri's. Caccini's setting oi the 
 same drama of Euridice is in general character very like Peri's. 
 It lias the same monotonous expanses of recitative with accom- 
 paniment 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 cantatrice, he introduced roulades 
 and ornamental passages for the singers; thereby devising 
 some of the first formulas, and prefiguring even in those early 
 days the tasteless and senseless excesses of vain show which 
 disfigure certain types of modern opera. The following pas- 
 gage is from Caccini's Euridice : — 
 
 Voice 
 
 Aooomp. 
 
 m 
 
 Can 
 
 ^ 
 
 m 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC I 33 
 
 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," in which he described the objects of the 
 reformers ; and in this work he gave some examples of set- 
 tings of short poems for a solo voice, which serve as almost 
 the earliest examples of consciously contrived solo-songs with 
 instrumental accompaniment, as distinguished from folk-songs. 
 These also serve to emphasise the very slight sense which the 
 composers had of the need for design, or of the possibility of 
 obtaining such a thing by the distribution of the successions 
 of chords. What remains of Emilio Cavaliere's work is similar 
 in character, and shows almost as vague a sense of design. The 
 bass solo which serves as an introduction to his one Oratorio is 
 the finest piece of work left by this group of composers, 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 example, 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 education. They 
 soon became conscious of new requirements and possibilities 
 in their line of work, and the early homogeneous experiments 
 were by degrees 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-de6ned 
 characteristics from that day till this. It may well be doubted 
 if Monteverde would ever have succeeded in a line of art which 
 required concentration and logical coherence of musical design. 
 lie seems to have belonged to that familiar type of artist* 
 
134 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 who regard expression as the one and only element of import* 
 ance. 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 6uch direct forms of utterance. A decisive harshness 
 breaking upon the ear without preliminary was shortly to 
 become a necessity to musical mankind ; but to the old order 
 of things it was the omen of immediate dissolution. The' 
 methods of choral art did not provide for dramatic foice or 
 the utterance of passionate feeling ; and under such circum- 
 stances it was natural that Monteverde should misapply his 
 special gifts, which were all in the direction of dramatic ex- 
 pression. The new departure, 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. fty prp.s .sfon, and showed but little 
 gift for it, 1 * Monte verde's insti nct and aim was chiefly in 
 that direction ; and he often sought to emphasise his situations 
 a t~aIT 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 evidently had a very considerable instinct for 
 stage effect, and realised that mere monotonous reci tative _w as 
 not_£he final solution of the problem nor even the nucleus of 
 dramatic music. It is true he in troduces~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 figures of 
 melody and apposite 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, 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC 135 
 
 variety, and conspicuously characteristic passages, which 
 heighten the impression of the situations, as all stage music 
 should. - ^AjL* 
 
 His ideas of instrumental music were v ery crud e, but 
 nevertheless invjaensely in advance of such as are indicated 
 by the works of his predecessors. Where they had been 
 satisfied with a siugle line and figures to indicate to the 
 lute players 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 ex- 
 perienced handling to become permanent 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 which passed through Cavalli and Lulli into 
 France and ultimately 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 
 course of musical development in Italy 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 bo 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 ot a poem 
 or the scenes of a play. Men who were masters of the 
 technique of the ol<5 cnoral art, such as Giovanni Gabrieli at 
 Venice, tried to apply it in new ways in conformity with the 
 10 
 
136 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 spirit of the new theories ; introducing singular experiment* 
 of a realistic character, and some remarkable experiments 
 in expression by harmony. This type of art wag carried by 
 his interesting pupil, Schutz, 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 other* 
 contributed their share to the progress of the movement ; but 
 circumstances combined to give peculiar prominence to Caris- 
 simi, 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 in respect 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 therefore less 
 tempted to trespass in the direction of crude expression. Hi* 
 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 at the same time it is noteworthy that the effect 
 produced by his choral writing is very different from the old 
 •tyle. The sense for harmonic design is conspicuously per- 
 oeptible, and it i* obvious that he tries to apply his skill in 
 part writing to the ends of expression. The choruses ar* 
 often constructed on bold and simple series of chords, and the 
 figures written for the voices strongly resemble passages 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 tenderness, and has a good hold on many varieties 
 of human feeling. The greater part of his 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 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC I 37 
 
 outlines ; while there are plenty of examples of solo music in 
 which the reiteration of a characteristic phrase in contrasting 
 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 harmjyua_dfisjgn_as well as of counterpoint, while 
 solo music gained definition through the same impulse to 
 make it at once 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 attention 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 developing among musicians; for Cesti and Stradella 
 (who were younger contemporaries of Carissimi) both show 
 a very considerable skill for that time in writing string ac- 
 companiments 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 mfllody. 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 keaa_ jpstinct for balancing ^ p hrases, distributing 
 sijadencjgs, do vetailing passages, presenting musical figures in 
 various aspects, and contriving good stretcher of thoroughly 
 vocal melody. Stradella's genius was of a different cast 
 from Cesti's, and found its natural expression in a different 
 type of sentiment He 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 
 
138 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 cultivating all the natural resources of that form of art — on 
 the lines which Handel adopted later — at a time when hia 
 fellow-composers were falling in with the inclination of their 
 public for solo singing, and were giving up the grand oppor- 
 tunities 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 performances, that he ex- 
 tinguished her own composers in his lifetime, and left native 
 musical impulse paralysed at his death. 
 
 The career of this Italian Lulli illustrates very decisively 
 the manner in which artistic developments follow the lines of 
 least resistance, by the simple process of submitting to be 
 guided by the predilections of the public for whom the works 
 of art are devised. Lulli was transplanted 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 copious 
 demands which afforded excellent prospects of profuse re- 
 muneration. Lulli was undoubtedly made to perceive very 
 early that French taste ran ii f he direction of the theatre, 
 and more especially in favour of dancing and spectacular 
 effect in connection 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 when 
 they were grouped in sets. 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 them- 
 selves; as Cambert, the native composer whom he extin- 
 
THE RISK OF SECULAR MUSIC I 39 
 
 guished, 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 famoua 
 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 in this manner he gained the oppor- 
 tunity of studying his methods in respect of recitative, de- 
 clamation, and treatment of the vocal portions of his works. 
 
 Under these circumstances Lulli developed a scheme of 
 opera which was more mature and complete than any other 
 of his time. 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 complete 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 to make it effective. 
 
 In the first place, the plan 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 founda- 
 tion, 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 usually begins with 
 an introductory scene, often mythological, which comprises 
 choruses, dances, and such other features as obviously imply 
 spectacular display and much grouping of people on the stage, 
 and lend themselves to a good deal of musical sound and ani- 
 mation. The drama proper is interpreted mainly in accom- 
 panied 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. 
 
r40 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 Lulli shows excellent sense of relief and proportion in the 
 general planning and laying out of the musical elements in the 
 scenes, and in regulating 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 associa- 
 tions 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 he was 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 for orderliness 
 and system in the laying out of his musical material was in 
 advance of his age ; but as the realisation of principles of 
 design was still very backward, 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 corre- 
 sponding 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 sufficiently stereo- 
 typed in his time for Lulli to use it as persistently 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 procedure which 
 aims at 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 
 
THE RISE OP SECULAR MUSIC 1 4 1 
 
 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 the fact that 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 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 component ballet 
 movements, choruses, instrumental interludes, arias, recitatives, 
 and so forth ; and though the plan of the drama was very 
 artificial, and was mechanically subservient to stage effect, 
 the character of the music followed the character of the 
 story from moment to moment very successfully, and there is 
 singularly little of superfluous ornament or of passages in- 
 troduced for the purpose of pure executive display. Indeed 
 the dignity and expressiveness of most of the declamatory 
 portions of these works are creditable alike to Lulli and to 
 his audiences. The operas are mainly defective in 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, accompanied 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 supple- 
 mented occasionally 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 
 obviousness of these occasions shows that musicians had but 
 little craving or taste for variety of colour as yet. The haut- 
 boys serve to give local colour to rustic scenes, and tbs 
 
142 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 trumpets and drums are called in to illustrate martial ones, 
 and so forth. But less obvious occasions call for no distinctive 
 use of instrumental colour, and there is no delicate adjustment 
 either of mass of sound or special tone for artistic ends. The 
 whole group of strings plays constantly together in a mono- 
 tonous and mechanical manner — extremely homogeneous — 
 in all movements which are " accompanied ; " and recitatives 
 and solo movements have only bass with figures, from which 
 the accompanist 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 gave an 
 impetus to the order of essentially histrionic music, and esta- 
 blished a type which has survived and sometimes even flashed 
 into brilliant conspicuousness in modern times. 
 
 Almost completely outside the direct course of musical 
 evolution stands the unique and highly individual genius of 
 PurcelL The sources of his artistic generalisations can be 
 traced, as is inevitable even with the most pre-eminently 
 "inspired" of composers; but isolation was entailed by the 
 peculiarly characteristic line he adopted, and the fact that 
 almost all the genuine vitality dropped straight out of English 
 art directly he died ; while none of his remarkably English 
 achievements penetrated so far afield as to have any sort of in- 
 fluence upon the course of musical progress on the Continent, 
 Purcell was imbued with the solid traditions of the music of 
 the English Church composers ; but he was equally in touch 
 with the methods of the most advanced composers of the new 
 style, especially in its French phase as illustrated by Lulli 
 He waa also saturated with the characteristic English tune* 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC 1 43 
 
 of his day, and possessed an instinct for the true relation 
 between the accents of the language and the accents of musical 
 melody and declamatory recitative, which has never been sur- 
 passed by any composer of the same nationality. Applying 
 the views of art which were in the air in a typically English 
 way, he produced characteristic effects of harmony in both 
 choral and instrumental music, which were without parallel 
 till J. S. Bach began to enlarge the musical horizon in that 
 respect. In his solo music, he endeavoured to follow the 
 meaning of the words in declamatory passages with the 
 utmost closeness ; resorting with almost too much frequency to 
 obvious realistic devices. But the elaborate scenes and grandly 
 expanded movements for solo voices in his opera and theatre 
 music are so full of variety and force as to be still almost un- 
 surpassed in their particular line. The airs and songs which 
 he introduced into the same works have a specially tuneful 
 ring, which is much more pointed and individual than any- 
 thing to be found in similar productions by his contemporaries 
 on the Continent. The tunes of the foremost Italian Opera 
 composers of his time have a family likeness about them which 
 is rather conventional and monotonous, charming as some of 
 the tunes are; but Puree! l's songs are like so many strongly 
 diverse forms cut in clear crystal, each ringing with in- 
 dividuality. In much of his instrumental music, such as the 
 dance tunes in his theatre music, he shows much greater 
 skill and point and lightness of hand than Lulli, and a much 
 nearer approach to genuine instrumental style than almost 
 any composer of his time in any form of instrumental music 
 which was then cultivated. But England lay far from the 
 centres of musical activity, and the general course of musical 
 evolution went on in Europe with hardly any reference what- 
 ever to his remarkable artistic achievements. 
 
 It is important to realise how early national predispositions 
 show themselves in music. They are often more decisively 
 apparent in an early and imm.-iture 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 
 
1 44 THE ART OF MUSIO 
 
 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 engrained in their musical dispositions, and which 
 have been carried by the Germans to very extreme lengths. 
 The real bent of both nations is the same. In respect of 
 external beauty they are neither of them so keen in apprecia- 
 tion, or so apt in creative faculty, as Italians, and during 
 the period in which beauty was the principal 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 characteristic 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, and the other the use of simple 
 realistic devices to identify the music with the spirit of the 
 words. Thus Heinrich Schtitz in his choral works frequently 
 contrived strange chords for the purpose of immediate expres- 
 sion. In his setting of the first Psalm the words, "in the 
 counsel of the ungodly," are expressed as follows : — 
 
 The late English phase of the madrigal period affords in- 
 structive illustrations of racial tendencies, for composers aimed 
 at characteristic expression of the words far oftener than the 
 great Italian masters had done ; and they often showed a 
 tendency towards the 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 ; for the standards and models for the new style, and 
 the examples of what could and what could not be done. 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC 
 
 145 
 
 io deficient that his judgment went not infrequently 
 astray ; and in trying to carry out his ideals according to the 
 principles of the " new music," he sometimes achieves a 
 marvellous stroke of real genius, but occasionally also falls 
 into the depths of bathos and childishness. The experiment* 
 which he made in expression, under the same impulse as 
 Schtitz in church choral music, are often quite astounding 
 in crudeness, and almost impossible to sing ; while in secular 
 solo music (where he is generally successful) he frequently 
 adopts realistic devices of a quaintly innocent kind, for lack of 
 •esources to utter otherwise his expressive intentions : — 
 
 Precisely in the same spirit Schiitz describes the angel 
 descending from heaven at the resurrection as follows : — 
 
 Der En - gal dea Her-ren ateig vom Him - mel 
 
 her -a?" 
 
 And when he rolls away the stone from the sepulchre he doe« 
 it in this wise — 
 
 Und wii 
 
 tet den Stain 
 
 In Italy, after Cavalli's time, the tastes of the nation soon 
 influenced the course of operatic development, and impelled it 
 
I46 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 into a different path from that taken by French and English 
 ope ra. The tendency which is most apparent at this time is the 
 outcome of the growing feeling for simplicity and clearness of 
 form, and distinctness and amenity of melody. The Italians 
 gravitated away from strong direct dramatic expression, and 
 indeed from immediate expression of any kind, and endea- 
 voured merely to illustrate situations as they presented them- 
 selves by the general sentiment of an entire movement or an 
 entire passage of melody ; thus breaking away altogether from 
 the path which Monteverde 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 in- 
 stinct of the nation for singing. As the century progressed 
 composers became more skilful in the management of their 
 instrumental accompaniments, and began to see more clearly 
 how to lay out the plan of their operas as wholes, organising 
 the acts into well-defined portions, consisting of instrumental 
 preludes (called either overtures or sinfonias), interludes, 
 recitatives, airs, and even fairly developed choruses. The 
 most important results obtained in these respects are summed 
 up in the works of Alessandro Scarlatti, who became the most 
 prominent composer of his time in secular vocal music and 
 church music, and no mean master of instrumental music of 
 the kind which was practised in those days. But the most 
 notable part of his contribution to the progress of his art is 
 in the department of opera; and by a singular fatality his 
 method of procedure, though excellent in itself, had a most 
 injurious outcome. For his cultivation of the form of the 
 aria caused him, though a man of real genius and of high 
 artistic responsibility of character, to do more than any 
 one to establish that prominence of the "prima donna" in 
 opera which has in after times been one of its most fatal 
 
THE RISE OP SECULAR MUSIC 1 47 
 
 impediments. 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 sufficiently explored to make 
 it clear in what directions danger lay ; and Scarlatti was led, 
 mainly by his instinct for musical design, to ignore obvious 
 inconsistency in the dramatic development of the plays which 
 he set, in order to obtain a complete musical result which 
 satisfied his own particular instinct and the tastes of his 
 Italian audiences; and he thereby opened a door of which 
 vanity and levity were not slow to take advantage. 
 
 The history of opera from first to last has been a constant 
 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 forma- 
 lised and made artistically complete at the expense of dramatic 
 truth, and at another the music was made subservient 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 utmost 
 profusion of artistic resources can provide for the adequate ad- 
 justment of the requirements of both the literary and musical 
 elements in such a combination. 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 pieces together, and for 
 distributing them so as to illustrate contrasting moods and 
 types of sentiment. The story of the drama may be dimly 
 felt in the background in such works, but it would be the last 
 thing about which the amateur of Italian opera would have 
 concerned himself much in those days. Apparently even the 
 spectacular effect was more considered, because it was less 
 likely to interfere with the composer's unaccommodating atti- 
 tude. It soon followed that the interests of the individual 
 
148 THE ART OP MUSIC 
 
 singers became the most powerful influence in regulating the 
 scheme, and the type of art became thoroughly 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 performers. 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 com- 
 pletely that he poured out opera after opera in which all the 
 solo pieces were in the same form, and that the simplest con- 
 ceivable. The principle of statement, contrast, and restate- 
 ment 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 spaces between one aria and 
 another, and prevented their jostling one another; while on 
 the dramatic side they served to carry on the plainer parts of 
 the dialogua It is noteworthy that both his recitative and 
 his instrumental ritornels are less characteristic than Monte- 
 verde's had been. Being a practical man, he realised that the 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC 1 49 
 
 public did not care much about them, and he did not care to 
 expend effort where it was almost sure to be wasted. All the 
 Italian composers soon gave up attempting to put any expres- 
 sion into their recitatives, and made them as near as possible 
 mere formalised declamation — sometimes not even declama- 
 tion, but formalised talk. Moreover, the progressions of the 
 accompanying chords became as aimless and empty as the pro- 
 gressions of the voice, so that the effect depended solely upon 
 the skill of the singer in delivery ; and this retrograde ten- 
 dency produced as its natural result one of the most detest- 
 able 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 writing ensemble 
 movements, 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 generally 
 wrote them in three or four short movements, distributed in 
 the order which is familiar in modern symphonies. When he 
 used three movements, the first was a solid allegro, cor- 
 responding 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 overtures in this form. When four 
 movements were written 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 contrapuntal; 
 but the feeling for tonality is always conspicuously present 
 
I 50 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 in the general outline of the movements. There is nothing 
 in them of instrumentation of the modern kind, and the 
 movements are 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 "sym- 
 phonies") 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 improved, the scheme was widened and en- 
 riched and diversified till it appeared in its utmost perfection 
 in the great works of Beethoven. 
 
 In the pure 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 unsurpassable 
 perfection attained by the great Italian violin-makers, such 
 as the Amatis, Guarnerius, Stradivari, and Bergonzi, naturally 
 coincided with a remarkable development of the technique of 
 violin-playing. The crude experiments 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 move- 
 ments 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 is also in conformity 
 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 art 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC I 5 1 
 
 mainly variations of it, or outcomes of the essential artistio 
 necessity of contrast and restatement. The names the violin 
 composers gave to their works were various. A Sonata da 
 Camera was mainly a group of dance movements, essentially 
 secular in style; a Sonata da Chiesa was a group of abstract 
 movements in more serious style, generally comprising a 
 fugue or some other contrapuntal movement, derived ulti- 
 mately from the old choral music. Concertos were variable 
 in their constituents, and were written for more instruments. 
 The modern sonata was jin outcpjn^^jCuL^lLthree, and of 
 the general development of instrumental expression and 
 technique, which also went on under the names of Suites, 
 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 to the modern hearer as being suffi- 
 ciently mature to be tolerable; and though in point of 
 technique his range was rather limited, he managed to 
 produce works which in their way are complete, well-balanced, 
 and perfectly adapted to the requirements of instrumental 
 performance. The appearance of crude helplessness and un- 
 certainty which characterises the works of earlier composers 
 is no longer perceptible, 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 indicating 
 an epoch in art. All music whatever which was of any dimen- 
 sions, except rambling fantasias, organ toccatas, and contra- 
 puntal fugues, had hitherto been dependent on words for 
 its full intelligibility. Real artistic development, independent 
 of such connection, had not been possible till men changed 
 their point of view and developed their feeling for tonality 
 and for the classification of harmony. 
 
 Corelli's methods are ostensibly contrapuntal, but it is note- 
 worthy that his is not the old kind of counterpoint, but rather 
 an artistic treatment of part-writing, which is assimilated into 
 chords whose progressions are adapted to the principles of 
 modern tonality. He uses sequences for the purposes of 
 form, and modulations for purposes of contrast and balance, 
 11 
 
152 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 and cadences to define periods and sections, and other char- 
 acteristic devices of modern art ; and though the traces of the 
 old church modes are occasionally 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 development ; 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 importance. The 
 fact that they are the earliest examples of pure instrumental 
 music which have maintained any hold upon lovers of the art 
 implies that men's instincts do not endorse the methods upon 
 which earlier works were constructed. His works therefore 
 mark the point where imperfect attempts are at last replaced 
 by achievement. 
 
 Corelli's contemporary, Vivaldi, who was a more brilliant 
 executant than Corelli himself, had even keener sense for 
 harmonic principles ; and though his work has not the sub- 
 stance, nor the uniform interest, nor the smoothness of part- 
 writing, nor, finally, the permanent popularity of Corelli's 
 work, it was extremely valuable at the moment for supplying 
 various types of instrumental passages and for helping to 
 establish the feeling for harmonic design. In his concertos 
 and sonatas the harmonic plan is clear even to obviousness, 
 and there is much less of contrapuntal and free inner 
 development than in Corelli's works ; but they are more char- 
 acteristically fitted out with typical figures of harmonic 
 accompaniment, brilliant fiorituri, 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 
 harmonic system of design a solid foundation, and to esta- 
 blish those principles of development which have been refined 
 and elaborated by many generations of instrumental composer! 
 up to the present time. 
 
 Among other lines of progress later events made the de- 
 velopment of organ music of peculiar importance. As has 
 before been pointed out, organ music obtained an independent 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC I 5 3 
 
 status sooner than any other branch of instrumental musics 
 probably because organists were afforded such frequent oppor- 
 tunities of experiment in solo-playing in connection with the 
 services of the Church. Many of the kinds of work in which 
 they experimented led to nothing particular, but their imita- 
 tion of choral works led to the development of fugue, which 
 is one 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 versd. In the old choral musio 
 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 through- 
 out 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 advantage of associating the principal 
 phrase or subject with contrasting subordinate phrases, and of 
 making the order and pitch of subsequent reiterations of the 
 initial phrase afford contrast by varying from the first order 
 of statement. Then as their feeling for tonality grew 
 stronger, they realised the advantage 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 phraMe or 
 
154 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 subjects prominently to round the whole movement into 
 completeness. 
 
 The filial form had an advantage over pure harmonic forms 
 through its enabling composers to dispense with the cadences 
 which deflned the various sections, but broke up the con- 
 tinuity of the whole. But it was a disadvantage, on the 
 other hand, that the methods of using the subjects were 
 so inviting to musicians of an ingenious turn of mind that 
 the form became vitiated by sheer excess of artifice, in the 
 manipulation of subjects and counter-subjects, and inter- 
 weaving of strands into all manner of curious combinations ; 
 while the possibilities of pure contrapuntal device were dis- 
 cussed up and down to such an extent, that most composers 
 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 possessed for variety of expression, and for effective 
 general development based upon the use of well-marked sub- 
 jects, 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 pitch that any 
 better form for choral music 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, 
 Swelinck, 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 so 
 attractive as the violin ; and in the early part of the century 
 they still had a formidable rival in the lute. Works for thesa 
 
THE RISE OF SECULAR MUSIC 15 5 
 
 instruments began to be produced very early in the century, but 
 of these all except rare and exceptional specimens by Orlando 
 Gibbons and Byrd are chiefly interesting on account of their 
 containing the crude foreshadowings 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 instrument, and developed a happy knack of writing tune- 
 ful 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 in later times as Suites. His prototypes were pro- 
 bably 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 
 tlie French for illustrating 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 
 inev itable t endency of all_tliings_ fro m homogen eity towards 
 diversity and definiteness. In its widest aspects art is si en 
 to branch out into a variety of different forms. The difference 
 in style and matter between choral movements and instru- 
 mental works begins to be more definite and decisive. The 
 types of opera, oratorio, cantata, and of the various kinds of 
 church music become more distinct, and are even subdi 
 into different subordinate types, 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 inde- 
 pendent existence, and began to branch out into the various 
 forms which have since become representative as sonatas and 
 
156 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 symphonies. The treatment of instruments began to be 
 individually 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 im- 
 portant 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 feeling for tonality of the modern 
 kind, which implies a classification of harmonies and an adop- 
 tion 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 principles of rhythm 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 tbu 
 old order of things. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 COMBINATION OF OLD METHODS AND NEW 
 PRINCIPLES 
 
 The development of principles of design in music must in- 
 evitably wait upon the development of technique. Very little 
 can be done with limited means of performance; and the 
 adequacy of such means is dependent on the previous perfect- 
 ing 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 other branches of art 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 instruments 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 composing. 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 some of the greatest of recent composers have 
 been 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 composer is all part 
 of the business of designing, and while the violinists and 
 organists were devising their types of figure they learnt to 
 fit them together in schemes which had the necessary general 
 
1 5 8 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 good effect as well as the special telling effect in detail • and 
 all branches of art contributed something of their share 
 towards the sum total of advance in art generally. But the 
 various methods and resources of art were developed in con- 
 nection with the different departments 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 expression 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 composer 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 
 than it became in later times. 
 
 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 weL 
 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 when a special branch came 
 to a standstill for a time because the development of other 
 branches upon which it had to draw for further advance was 
 in a backward state. This was mainly the reason why opera, 
 which was cultivated with such special activity in the seven- 
 teenth century, came practically to a standstill for some time 
 at the point illustrated by Scarlatti and Lulli. The actual 
 internal organisation of the component parts, such as the arias, 
 improved immensely in style and richness ajyl scope as men 
 gained better hold of principles of melodic development ; and 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES I 59 
 
 Handel and Hasse and Buononcini, and many others, im- 
 proved 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 representatives 
 of the new style of music had been extremely inefficient in 
 choral writing, because they thought that the methods and 
 learning of the old school were superfluous for their purposes. 
 But in the course of about fifty years musicians found the 
 need of again studying and gathering the fruits of the ex- 
 perience 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 the melodic modes and 
 essentially contrapuntal texture of the earlier art, 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. Composers 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 combined counterpoints, move so as to illustrate 
 the principles of harmonic form, and thus gave to the hearer 
 the sense of orderliness and design, as well as the sense of 
 contrapuntal 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 the 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 succes- 
 sions were made deliberately to look like good counterpoint 
 
 This was partly the result of the peculiar disposition of the 
 
1 60 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 Italians. They attained to very considerable skill in manipu* 
 lating voice-parts smoothly and vocally, but they were not 
 particularly ardent after technical artistic interest or charac- 
 teristic expression. Their sense of beauty shows itself in the 
 orderliness and fiaa»-of their harmonic progressions, and in 
 the excellent art with which general variety is obtained. But 
 as usual a certain native indolence and dislike of strenuous 
 concentration made them incline too much towards methodi 
 which lessened the demands upon the attention of audiences. 
 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 following and understanding what they listened 
 to. The result was favourable to the establishment of formal 
 principles in choral music, but it put a premium on careless- 
 ness 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 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 independent means of effect. The ne^vf mode of com- 
 bining 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 expression which could be obtained. 
 But at the same time it is important to note that the instru- 
 mental 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. 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES I 6 I 
 
 Even the most responsible masters were forced by the back- 
 wardness of instrumental art to adopt a contrapuntal style 
 for their orchestral works, and to write for their several instru- 
 ments as if they were so many voice-parts; and when they 
 attempted variety of colour they used it in broad 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 progress. 
 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 achieve- 
 ments in the new style were on the lines of sacred and serious 
 art, because it was in that line alone that composers could 
 gain full advantage from the old traditions. And whereas the 
 early representatives of the new style had cast aside 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 toi 
 full fruit. 
 
 It was indeed the first time that the Teutonic temper found 
 full expression in the art which now seems most congenial fco 
 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 representatives. But now that social conditio! - 
 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 compara- 
 tively neglected forms of art, such as the oratorio and church 
 cantata, reached the highest standard of which they have 
 proved capable. All the German 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 
 
1 62 THE ART OF MUSIO 
 
 altogether Italian principles, merely infusing into their work 
 the firmer grit and greater power of characterisation which 
 nomes of the stronger and more deliberate race. But by fai 
 the greatest and most important results were obtained where 
 the Teutonic impulse for characteristic treatment was given 
 fullest play ; and where the resources made available by the 
 combination 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 which is the outcome of difference 
 of method and disposition is illustrated to the fullest degree 
 in the familiar oratorios of Handel on the one hand, and in 
 Bach's " Passions " and the best of his church cantatas on the 
 other. The Italian development of oratorio had been stunted 
 and perverted through the lack of interest which audiences 
 took in the choral portions of such works ; which appears to 
 have caused composers of about Handel's time to give up 
 writing choruses of any importance in their oratorios, and to 
 lay stress mainly upon arias and solo music. The situation 
 affords a noteworthy instance of the influence of circum- 
 stances upon products. ' For in his first oratorios, which were 
 written in Italy for Italian audiences, Handel hardly wrote 
 any choruses at all, and those which he did write are of 
 the slightest 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 impor- 
 tant features are the numerous grand choral movements. 
 But it so happened that the English of that time had lost 
 touch with their own native traditions of style, and had 
 become thoroughly Italianised ; it therefore naturally followed 
 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, 
 fur ever since he had left Hamburg and his native country 
 in his youth, every new lino he took up showed invariably the 
 influence of Italian methods and Italian musical phraseology. 
 He was so saturated with musical 1 talianism" of~«tl kinds thai 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES 1 63 
 
 actual phrases of Corelli, Alessandro Scarlatti, Stradella, 
 CaiissimL, and others constantly make their appearance in 
 his works ; while the texture of his instrumental move- 
 ments — such as slow introductions and fugues — closely re- 
 sembles similar movements by Corelli and Scarlatti, and the 
 style of his choral music closely resembles the facile, smooth, 
 and eminently vocal style of the Italian masters, as exemplified 
 in various kinds of church music of the new kind. Where he 
 improved upon their work so immensely was in the use of 
 the resources of artistic technique for the purposes of expres- 
 sion, and in the greater vitality of contrapuntal texture. As 
 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. Intrinsically it was sufficient for 
 them if the music was melodious and vocal in solos, and if 
 the counterpoint in the choruses conveyed 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 expression in the music itself; and when in im- 
 mature 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 Knglish 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 suffi- 
 cient persistence of character to bring to maturity. 
 
 This it is which 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. \ He not oily 
 gives in his choruses the direct expression of the feelings of 
 human creatures, whose places the singers might be said to 
 take, in exultation, mourning, rage, devotion, or any other 
 phases of human feeling; but he makes most successful use 
 of them for descriptive purposes, and for conveying the im- 
 
1 64 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 pression of tremendous situations and events. This lattei 
 feature in his work may have been somewhat owing to his 
 English surroundings, as the German bent is to use music 
 more for the expression of the inward emotion and sentiment 
 than for direct concrete illustration. But this descriptive 
 phase 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 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. 4- 
 
 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 sur- 
 roundings made him take, in his most genuinely characteristic 
 works, a thoroughly 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 par- 
 ticularly occupied with organ music, with organ style, with the 
 technique and methods of all the greatest organists whose 
 performances he could contrive to hear, and the compositions 
 for the organ of various schools which he could find oppor- 
 tunity to study. Fortunately the organists of that day were 
 exceptionally worthy of their instrument. They did not try 
 either to make it gambol, or to 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 tempered and 
 enlarged by the wide range of his sympathetic studies in every 
 branch of composition. Together with organ. music he heard 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES 1 65 
 
 and absorbed tbe church music of his country; and the peculiar 
 mystic sentiment, full of tender poetical imagery and personal 
 devotion, which was then characteristic of Teutonic Chris- 
 tianity, took firm hold of his disposition. Unlike Handel 7 
 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 more 
 particularly to the composition of great choral works, the 
 Italian influences are but rarely apparent; 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 confessed 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 counterpoint 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 in 
 texture. But where Handel aimed at the beauty of melodic 
 form, Bach strove for characteristic expression. Where 
 Handel used orderly progressions of simple harmony, Bach 
 aimed at contriving elaborate interweavings of subtly dis- 
 posed parts to give the effect of the subtlest shades of human 
 feeling. Where Handel used the most realistic means to 
 convey the hopping of frogs, or the rattling of hailstones, or 
 the rolling of the sea, or the buzzing of flies, Bach attempted 
 to express the inner feelings of human creatures under the 
 impress of any exciting 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 spirit 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 illustrated than in their use of recitative. Handel, 
 accepting the conventions of Italian art without hesitation, 
 ruined an enormous number of his works by the emptiest, 
 baldest, and most mechanical formulas; while Bach, dh> 
 
1 66 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 satisfied with anything which had not significance, endeavoured 
 by the contours and intervals of his solo part, by the pro- 
 gressions and harmonies of his accompaniment, and by ever} 
 means that was available, to intensify from moment to moment 
 the expression of the words. Bach's recitative was conse- 
 quently 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 recitative may be easy to sing, but, with rare and 
 noble exceptions, it means next to nothing, and the formulas 
 often suit one set of words as well as another. 
 
 Bach's feeling for 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 regular melody 
 with simple secondary accompaniment. Solo music indeed 
 was not the most congenial form for the expression of his 
 ideas, and faithfully as he tried to achieve a perfect scheme 
 and principle of procedure, he never made sure of a satis- 
 factory result. He aimed at something which is a little 
 beyond the capacity of a formal solo movement 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 treatment 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 produced 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 pleasant and 
 agreeable at the expense of the truth of the sentiment. The 
 only respect in which he fell conspicuously under the spell of 
 convention was in following, without sufficient consideration, 
 the principle of repetition indicated by the too familiar direction 
 " da 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 hi« 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES 1 6; 
 
 movement; and thereby impaired some of his happiest in- 
 spirations through want of the practical observation 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 composers 
 were equally backward, though their aims and methods, and 
 the results they achieved, were very different. They were 
 necessarily restricted to the standard of their time at the 
 beginning of their careers, 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 
 experiments, 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 enhancement 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 instru- 
 ments 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 S^ 
 for stringed instruments in the contrapuntal manner. He Z 
 looked to the present, and finished up much as he began. 7 
 Bach, on the other hand, looking always forward, gives proofs S 
 of much more purpose in his use of instrumental resources. 
 He used a great variety of instruments of all kinds, both L 
 wind and strings, though not so much to increase the volume L 
 of tone in the mass as 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 j and he never seems to have thought of adopting any- 
 12 
 
1 68 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 thing like such modern methods of variety. But as far as hii 
 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 other instruments ; and with the view of in- 
 tensifying 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 
 accompaniment 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. 
 I To the object of obtaining 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 
 S accompaniments and supply fulness of sound, that it does 
 nnot seem to have struck either of them as worth while to 
 /look for any degree of richness or volume from combinations 
 \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 instruments 
 are often totally drowned by the strings. The proportions 
 were very different in those times, but even if the old pro- 
 portions of wind and strings were restored, many contrapuntal 
 effects in which flutes or hautboys have to take essential 
 parts on equal terms with violins, 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 they had 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 thai) 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES 1 69 
 
 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 contra- 
 puntal complexity 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 practical public 
 man, constantly in touch with the public, and constantly 
 watching their likes and dislikes, and catering for his suj 
 porters accordingly. 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 accompanist on 
 the harpsichord ; 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 com- 
 poser 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 introduction of grand choral move- 
 ments. 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 
 
I 70 THE ART OP MUSIO 
 
 of earlier works, giving them new words and adding soma 
 new movements to make the whole pass muster, and calling 
 the patchwork by a scriptural name. The success of the 
 experiment encouraged him to proceed to compose or patch 
 together more works of the same kind ; and a strange illus- 
 tration of his attitude towards oratorio at first is afforded by 
 the fact that the grandest and most impressive of all his 
 works is actually a piece of patchwork ; for " Israel in Egypt" 
 contains a most surprising number of old movements which 
 may have been early compositions of his own, and also a very 
 large quantity of musical material which was unquestionably 
 by other composers. He transformed some of the borrowed 
 materials into extremely effective choruses, and wrote other 
 new choruses which are among his finest achievements ; and 
 the greatness of his own work has carried the second-rate 
 work along with it. But his procedure 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 achievements, 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 origin- 
 ality 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 Egypt " 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. 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES 17 I 
 
 Thinking so much of the big public may therefore have been 
 no great drawback to him ; and some of the thanks for the 
 lofty standard of his achievements are due to the good taste 
 and sense of the people for whom he altered. His position 
 made him practical, and helped him to that definite and 
 wholesomely direct style which was congenial to his English 
 audiences; and though they may be also answerable for a 
 certain amount of commonplace and complacency in his work, 
 they deserve credit for encouraging him in the line of choral 
 work, which 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 cir- 
 cumstances 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. Moreover, the relation of a composer to his 
 surroundings is of supreme importance, and Bach's position in 
 relation to " the public " 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, throughout the greater part of his life he hardly knew 
 what an audience was, and he had next to no opportunities 
 whatever to feel the public pulse. But in any case he could 
 hardly have brought himself to see his art through other 
 people's eyes; for it was his nature to judge solely for him- 
 self, and he laboured throughout his life with simplicity and 
 singleness 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 prog- 
 ress is made. For lie early adopted the practice of studying 
 »nd copying out the works of composers who excelled in all 
 
 ' 
 
172 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 7the diffei ent branches of art, and of endeavouring to improve 
 
 ^ upon their achievements. Sometimes he actually rewrote thp 
 
 y 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 and amalgamated it as part 
 
 of his own artistic procedure. He ranged far and wide, and 
 
 1 studied the methods of Italians, Frenchmen, Netherlander, 
 
 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 rewrote 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 became far more 
 individual and strongly marked, and that he went far beyond 
 the standard of the musical intelligence of his time ; and the 
 inevitable consequence was that 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 sym- 
 pathy than he was. Even his sons and pupils but half under- 
 stood 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 independent attitude which is capable 
 of producing the very highest results in men who have grit 
 enough to save them from extravagance and incoherence. 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 com- 
 poser, the art of music is more indebted to him than to an; 
 
OLD METHODS AND NEW PRINCIPLES 1 73 
 
 other composer who ever lived, especially for the extension 
 of the arts of expression. 
 
 The peculiar services he did in the branch of pure instru- 
 mental 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 unaccompanied 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 ex 
 perimental, but it ensured the highest development of the art 
 of expression 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 
 leeling. They had merely been versions of lives of famous 
 scriptural 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 that lay in their 
 power. The plan was to break up the story into its most 
 vivid situations and intersperse these with reflective choruses 
 (*nd solos, which helped the mind to dwell intently 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 the Teutonic nature — 
 which were interspersed throughout. Many poets and many 
 composers tried their hands at this curious form of art, Bach 
 nimself several times ; and the crown was put on the whole 
 series finally by the famous Passion according to St. Matthew, 
 which Bach wrote and rewrote towards the end of his career 
 for performance at Leipzig. 
 
 It is not necessary to emphasise further the difforence 
 between Bach's treatment of great sacred choral works 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 Paaaions which 
 
I 74 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 im- 
 mediate 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 organisation 
 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 OP EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC • 
 
 Axthough the principles of design upon which modern self- 
 dependent instrumental music is based had hardly dawned 
 upon the minds of men till the eighteenth century was nearly 
 half spent, the latest instrumental music of the early period, 
 written almost entirely upon the same general principles as 
 choral music, is not only historically important, but has 
 more genuine vitality than a very large proportion of the 
 music which has come into existence since the cultivation 
 of pure harmonic music has so greatly enlarged the resources 
 of composers. The situation is parallel in many respects 
 to the earlier crisis of Palestrina and Marenzio. There is 
 less of the sense of immaturity in their work than in the 
 work of Lulli and Scarlatti of nearly a century 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 altogether. If a man's ideas are 
 worth expressing, and are capable of being expressed com- 
 pletely within the limits of his resources, his productions may 
 be in a certain sense 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 expres- 
 sion, the balance of his work would have been destroyed ; he 
 would have gone beyond the limits which were then inevitable 
 for completely artistic work. Part of his greatness consisted 
 in his feeling exactly where the limitations of his kind of art 
 were, and achieving his aims within the field of which he was 
 complete master. The position of the composers in Bach's 
 
l?6 THE ART OF MUSIO 
 
 time was much the same ; and part of his own particulai 
 greatness consisted 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 different 
 types of artistic procedure representing different epochs fre- 
 quently overlap. Just as in the arrangements of society a 
 monarchy may be thriving successfully in one country, while 
 its neighbour is trying experiments in democratic institutions ; 
 so in art it constantly 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 conventional 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 sytem, 
 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 experiments 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 representa- 
 tives of the new school. But it is clear that he was not 
 satisBed with the results, and that the style was not congenial 
 to him. His peculiar gifts would not have found suffcient 
 means for employment on the simple lines of harmonic 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 harmoni- 
 sation 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 
 
THE CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC I 77 
 
 partitas, and other varieties ; and his work in those lines 
 sums up the fruitful labours of all his predecessors, and pro- 
 vides the most perfect examples of all the older forms. The 
 essence of the being of the old instru in ejitaL forma was the 
 polyphon ic texture in which every J>ar t or voic e is on eq"al 
 terms with every_other one. There is no despotic tune with 
 subservient accompaniment, nor strict conventions as to the 
 distribution of chords according to their tonalities. The use 
 of chords as artistic entities 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 polyphonic elaboration of musical figures ; by 
 the interweaving of which, like the strands of a ropa^he 
 works were made coherent and interesting. 
 "~Of all the forms of instrumental music which were charac- 
 teristic 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 obvious imita- 
 tions of choral music adapted for the organ or for sets of viola 
 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 the movements. But when the form came to be 
 used independently of 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 a work to give unity 
 to the whole. The early composers who speculated on these 
 lines called their works by all sorts of names — canzonaa, 
 ricercari, fantasias, and so forth ; and they were very un- 
 systematic in their ways of introducing their " subjects." But 
 experience led them by degrees to regulate things with due 
 attention to symmetry and better distribution of their 
 materials. By degrees the aspect of the form became suffi- 
 ciently distinctive for theorists to take note of it, and the 
 simplicity of the conditions of procedure led them to imagine 
 
I J% THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 that an artistic scheme might be very successfully devised bj 
 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 superfluous 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 
 sufficiently definite melody and rhythm to stand out from its 
 context and be identifiable — and that this subject shall give 
 the cue to the mood of the movement at the outset and re- 
 appear frequently throughout. Artistic interest and variety 
 of effect are maintained by the manner in which the voices or 
 parts sometimes sound all at once, and sometimes 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 catching one another up like people who are 
 60 eager in the discussion of their subject that they do not 
 wait for each other to finish their sentences. Subordinate 
 subjects are made to circle round the principal one, and the 
 various ideas are made to appear in different relations 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 simul- 
 taneously makes a complete 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 con- 
 
THE CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC I 79 
 
 trived for giving additional effect and interest to the scheme 
 and in Bach's time fugue became the highest representative 
 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 ensured 
 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 find a 
 6ner or more true-hearted set of men in the whole range of 
 the art than such as Frescobaldi, Froberger, Swelinck, Kerl, 
 Reinken, 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 judg- 
 ment of those who have enjoyed maturer things, it was 
 only through their devoted pioneering that the musical 
 revelation of the personality 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 opportunities to test his own 
 experiments in similar lines. At one time he devoted himself 
 to organ music, at another to secular instrumental muic, at 
 another to choral music As has been pointed out elsewhere, 
 
I 80 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 the organ period 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 jom- 
 poser ; and the effect of the most successful works written 
 for it, depends in great measure on the manner in which 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 com- 
 plexity proportionately to the receptive capacities of human 
 creatures, beginning from different points, and rising suc- 
 cessively 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 dignified 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 seen. 
 
THE CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC l8l 
 
 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 when 
 he has to reduce the number of notes sounding to a minimum, 
 the relation of the passage to its context prevents the interest 
 from flagging. It was in such circumstances that his pre- 
 decessors had 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 manipu- 
 lates all his resources so well that even his quietest moments 
 have some principle of interest which keeps the mind engaged, 
 and his final climax of sound and complicated polyphony 
 comes like the utmost possible exultation, taking complete 
 possession 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 in- 
 tellectual from end to end, relying on the beauty of some 
 melodic phrase 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 pre- 
 sented in every possible light with byplay of subordinate 
 theses, like little commentaries, which are often beautifully ex- 
 pressive 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 eminently serious at all 
 times, 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 toccatas, 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 
 
1 82 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 of tonal design, without having anything of the sonata *,har> 
 acter about them. The sonata mood and type of form is 
 conspicuously 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 which admitted of wide range of modulation and 
 variety and system in the presentation of subjects without 
 foregoing the advantages of clearly recognisable part-writing. 
 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 contrast of whirling rapid notes 
 with slow and stately march of pedals and harmonica He 
 knew how the pearly clearness of certain stops lent itself to 
 pasages 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 different parts ; and he designed his movements so well 
 that he made 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 some- 
 times 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 Ov-casionally 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 possibilities 
 of pure organ music. Everything that has been written since 
 is but the pale shadow of his splendid conceptions ; and 
 though the modern attempts to turn the organ into a sort 
 of second-rate orchestra by means of infinite variety of stops 
 ar« often very surprising (and very heterogeneous), they 
 
THE CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC I 83 
 
 certainly cannot compare with his work for intrinsic quality 
 or genuine direct impressiveness. 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 de- 
 lightful — vigorous, vivacious, and characteristic. 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 harpsichord 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 exposition of the varieties of the suite form, and of the 
 old instrumental fugue, as well as of all those varieties of types 
 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 echoing 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 expression and delicate phrasing; but the 
 harpsichord, with a certain noble roughness of tone, admitted 
 of hardly any expression and of no great variety of volume 
 Here indeed was a great temptation to subside into purdj 
 intellectual subtleties. But there was an amount of huinai 
 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 in his works of misuse of artistic resources. He was 
 incessantly trying experiments, and it was natural that h« 
 1?, 
 
I 84 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 Goldberg 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 
 Husikalisches Opfer were deliberately contrived for definitely 
 technical purposes, and hardly come within the range of real 
 practical music. 
 
 Among the most important of his clavier works are the 
 ■everal 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 grouping dance tunes together 
 was of very old standing; and composers had tried endless 
 varieties, from galliards and pavans 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 audiences by adding to the nucleus a long series 
 of lively picture-tunes which 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 move 
 ments 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 from which the movement began. This is all that the 
 movements have of actual harmonic form, though they fre- 
 quently 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 move- 
 
THE CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC I 85 
 
 ments — 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 contrapuntal. 
 There are sarabandes of all kinds. Some are purely melodic, 
 some superbly rich in harmonisation, some gravely rhythmic, 
 and some are treated with beautifully expressive counterpoint. 
 In almost all of them Bach strikes some vein of very concen- 
 trated 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 (a gigue) at the end. But as a sort of 
 concession to human weakness very light and rhythmic move- 
 ments 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 contrived them 
 throughout in the terms of perfect art. For they 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 contra- 
 puntal, 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 sufficient to prove 
 that uncompromisingly artistic methods are by no means in- 
 consistent with most vivacious gaiety. 
 
 By the side of Bach's suites may suitably be mentioned the 
 two sets of suites by Handel, though they are not of anything 
 
(86 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 like equal artistic importance. The second set are indeed fc* 
 the most part so poor and inert that they have almost dropped 
 out of notice altogether. They were probably written just to 
 supply a demand engendered by the great success of the first set, 
 which are vastly superior in every respect, and have maintained 
 a lively popularity even till the present day. Both sets are, 
 however, very peculiar examples of the order of art to which 
 they profess to belong, which may by some people be regarded 
 as a merit. They comprise combinations and distributions of 
 movements, which are not frequently met with in suites, such 
 as long series of variations, and very effective fugues ; and they 
 are obviously better calculated to win popular favour than such 
 austere and conscientious types as those of J. S. Bach, but the 
 details are much plainer and the materials less concentrated 
 and interesting. The same qualities are noticeable in all 
 Handel's various ventures in the line of instrumental music ; 
 such as his effective and popular organ concertos, some very 
 attractive violin sonatas, the very unequal grand concertos, 
 and similar compositions and pasticcios for orchestral instru- 
 ments, and the long chaconnes for harpsichord alone. Handel 
 was too great a genius to be able to help breaking out occa- 
 sionally into something remarkably fine and attractive, even 
 when he was not putting his heart into what he was doing. 
 But the public nature of his career is indicated in this as in 
 other departments of his work, both in respect of its advan- 
 tages and its drawbacks. The artistic level is not consistently 
 as high as Bach's, and the influence of Italian ruodett of thought 
 has the effect, in this range of art especially, of making a great 
 part of his instrumental music more justly classifiable with 
 the works of the early harmonic style, to be considered in the 
 next chapter, than with the distinct group which represents 
 the "climax of early instrumental music." 
 
 Of all the works with which Bach enriched the world, the 
 one which is most cherished by musicians is the Collection 
 of Preludes and Fugues which is known in England 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 
 
THE CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC I 87 
 
 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 ; which has already been shortly sum- 
 marised in Chapter II. 
 
 In choral music wide diatonic intervals are so far preferable 
 to semitones that in the early days, when all music was choral, 
 composers found a very limited number of flats and sharps 
 sufficient for all their requirements. Modulations 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 under- 
 standing of the principle of tonality or definition of key. But 
 when instrumental music began to be cultivated, and men de- 
 veloped a sense for identity and variety of key, and began to use 
 modulations as a basis of design as well as a means of effect, 
 they 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 position in 
 the scale which are arrived at by other methods of tuning. 
 Thus, if starting from C, the notes G-, D, and E are suc- 
 cessively 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& 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 Bt?, E^, C#, FJJ, and G* 
 The old methods of tuning made these possible without modi- 
 fying the essential intervals, such as the fifths and thirds. 
 No 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 composers perfectly 
 understood the status of the various notes in the scales, at 
 
188 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 least instinctively, and modulation from one key to anothei 
 had become a vital essential of art. No music was possible 
 without it. But it still took some time for music to expand 
 so far 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 the more adventurous spirits would 
 not be gainsaid. They found that they required to assume 
 Afr to be the same as G#, and D^ as C#, and the fact that the 
 chords which resulted from their experiments 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 represented 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 this with such clearness that he tuned his own instrument 
 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 repre- 
 sented 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 avail- 
 able notes, was sufficient for the purposes of the old church 
 music, because the aims of the art were different. The growth 
 of modern instrumental music brought new aims into men'g 
 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 objective way gave his full sanction, 
 is now a commonplace of every musical person's experience. 
 Some people imagine that it was always so. But in reality 
 
THE CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC I 8§ 
 
 the existing system is only a hundred and fifty years old, and 
 was resisted by some musicians even till the present century. 
 
 The two books of preludes and fugues represent an extra- 
 ordinary variety of artistic speculation on Bach's part. They 
 have much the same standing in his artistic scheme as tbe 
 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 expressiun 
 of abstract' ideas was the fugue. As the fugues in this col- 
 lection 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 mood 
 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 (C minor, 
 Cjf major, Bt> in first book ; F minor in second book). Strong 
 confident fugues (D major, first book; A minor, second book); 
 intensely sad fugues (Bl?" minor and B minor, first book) ; 
 serenely reposeful fugues (E major and B major, second book) ; 
 tenderly pathetic fugues (G# minor in both books). In every 
 case his subject gives him his cue, and the treatment of har- 
 monisation, modulation, counterpoint, design, and general 
 tone, follows consistently the mood which the subject indi- 
 cated. 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 treatment of the subject. He never 
 makes the mistake of writing a fugue in sonata form, which 
 is little better than 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 
 
I90 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 true objects of the form. The fugues have the reputation 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 evident experi- 
 ments in compact little forms, the schemes of "srhich 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 interest and variety exists 
 in the whole range of music. Some of the preludes are of the 
 nature of very carefully considered 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 successions, which 
 range through dreamy modulations without ever losing 
 coherence, or falling out of the rational 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 char- 
 acteristic progressions of harmony are so directed as to arrive 
 at quite a passionate climax just before the end. Following 
 the same line again, the figures corresponding to the arpeggio 
 forms of the chords are sometimes made specially 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). In such ways device was built upon device to 
 make new types of movements. Of quite a different order it 
 the wonderful prelude in E^ minor in the first book, which is 
 a highly emotional kind of song, with a most remarkable 
 succession of interrupted cadences at the end, which exactly 
 
THE CLIMAX OF EARLY INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC 19I 
 
 illustrate the longing mood of the principal idea. Of similar 
 type is the highly ornamental solo rhapsody in G minor in 
 the first hook, which might be a beautiful violin piece with a 
 compactly consistent polyphonic accompaniment. A few are 
 dance movements in disguise (Ai> in first book). One is 
 either an imitation or an arrangement 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 from that of the sonatas of that century that the 
 relationship is barely recognisable (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 
 workmanship, perfect in design and full of refined expression ; 
 and few things in the range of art are so full of suggestions 
 of 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 keenest in- 
 telligence for the greater part of a century, and they bear the 
 test so well that the better 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 par- 
 ticular 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 sin 
 verity of the style. The moment the balance swung over to the 
 harmonic side, and men thought more of the ease of the pro- 
 gression of the harmony than of the details of the polyphonic 
 texture, work on his lines became almost impossible. The change 
 is curiously illustrated by the difference between the ring of 
 Buch a work as his " Chromatische Fantasie," and of the experi 
 
192 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 ments on the same lines by so true a composer as his son, 
 Philip EmmanueL The first is one of the greatest move- 
 ments ever written for a keyed instrument; the latter soon 
 reveal 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, on the other hand, to write something 
 new on the lines of the toccata; but in his particular poly- 
 phonic treatment of the form Bach's work is so high and noble 
 that it entirely forbids all hope of advance beyond his 
 standard. People have very rarely attempted toccatas of his 
 kind again. The modern type is of a totally different order, 
 for some curious convention seems to have grown up that a 
 toccata 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 congenial style to him — 
 as he revelled in the grand successions of powerful harmonies, 
 and the contrasts of brilliant passages, and the varieties 
 of all possible imitative passages, and expressive counter- 
 point. Indeed he had a gift for rapid ornamental passages 
 almost unequalled by any other composer ; for with him they 
 never suggest mere emptiness and show, but have some 
 function in relation to the design, or some essential basis of 
 effect, or some ingenious principle of accent, or some inherent 
 principle of actual melodic beauty which puts them entirely 
 out of the category of things purely ornamental. Thus even 
 into the merest trifles he infused reality. The same genuine- 
 ness and sincerity look out from every corner of his work, 
 and — art having been happily at the right stage for his pur- 
 poses — give the world assurance of artistic possessions which 
 the passage of time and more intimate acquaintance only 
 render the more lovable. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE BEGINNINGS OF MODERN INSTRUMENTAL 
 MUSIC 
 
 Ii 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 conceivable. Indeed 
 the whole course of musical history in every branch went 
 straight out of the sphere of his activity for a long while; 
 his work ceased .to have-any significance to the genera- 
 tion which succeeded him, and his eloquence fell upon deaf 
 ears. A few of his pupils went on writing uiu>ie of bhe 
 same type as his 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 follow- 
 ing generation, was infected by the complacent, polite super- 
 ficiality of his time; and he was forced, in accepting the 
 harmonic principle of working in its Italian phase, to take 
 with it some of the empty formulas and conventional tricks 
 of speech which had become part of its being, and which 
 sometimes seem to belie the genuineness of his utter 
 and put him somewhat 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 ahead of his time. It is true that his gift for 
 divining new possibilities of combination, new progroarioni 
 
T94 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 of harmony, and new effects and procedures of modulation, 
 was so great that his contemporaries could not keep pace 
 with him. The very plenitude of his inventiveness ex- 
 hausted their faculties 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 ulti- 
 mately grasped that he aimed not at pure technical in- 
 genuities as ends in themselves, but at infinite variety of 
 artistic devices as means to expression. This, however, is 
 not a complete explanation of the situation, but only an indi- 
 vidual example among the more widely acting causes which 
 governed the progress of art. The very loftiness of Bach's 
 character and artistic aims prevented 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 operatic and otherwise, in the next genera- 
 tion, and the simultaneous lowering of standard and style, was 
 as inevitable as a reaction as it was necessary as a preliminary 
 to further progress. 
 
 Handel and Bach had carried the art of expressive counter- 
 point to the utmost extremes possible under the artistic con- 
 ditions of their time, which were limited to the combination of 
 polyphonic writing with the simplest kind of harmonh; form. 
 The harmonic element is still in the background in their work 
 because so much energy is expended upon the details of the 
 complex choral and contrapuntal expression. As long as com- 
 posers aimed chiefly at choral effect, they were impelled to indi- 
 vidualise 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 prin- 
 ciple of systematic harmonic design was more or less a secondary 
 consideration. But after Handel and Bach there did not seem 
 much to be done in the line of polyphonic expression. 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 could be altogether complete with- 
 out the ingenuities of counterpoint or the words which formed 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC 
 
 95 
 
 a necessary part of vocal utterance. As has been pointed out, 
 an instinctive desire for harmonic design and for clear definite 
 distribution 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 be- 
 longed to the same class as Handel and Bach looked upon the 
 independent and equal freedom of motion of all parts (which 
 is called counterpoint) as the essence of good style ; and the 
 massing and distribution of the harmonies as secondary. The 
 two great masters carried their feeling for contrapuntal effect 
 into every department of art. Even in their arias the prin 
 ciple is often 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 accom- 
 panist, yet in a large proportion of instances even the 
 I kiss part moves about quite as vivaciously as the melody; 
 as, for instance : — 
 
 Voice. 
 
 Violin. 
 
 S ffi-rjV+J ? 
 
 ^T=K 
 
 mm 
 
 Ger - ne will ich mich be -que-meu 
 
 g^^= 
 
 ttg ^S^g psN 
 
 Na=3g=§ E£gE^ B ^ 
 
 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 
 ase 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 contra- 
 puntally conceived ; and Bach's impulse was even more 
 strongly to make all parts of his scheme equally alive and 
 Vndividuah 
 
 But as soon as their work was done the index swung over. 
 
196 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 and the balance went down on the harmonic side. Counter 
 point, aad interest in the subordinate parts of the music, 
 became of secondary importance (or even less), and clearness 
 and intelligibility of harmonic and melodic progressions be- 
 came the primary consideration. Composers made a show of 
 counterpoint now and then, but it was not the real thing. The 
 parts in ostensibly contrapuntal works of the time immediately 
 following Bach and Handel are not in the least interesting or 
 alive. They are mechanically contrived to have the appear- 
 ance 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 con tern 
 poraneous 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 for instru- 
 mental music 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 there is so little intervening mechanism 
 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 in- 
 strument was even specially suitable, and as the inartistic 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC 1 97 
 
 sophisms, to which Italians have proved so lamentably prone 
 to succumb, had not yet darkened the musical horizon, theit 
 instinct for beauty of form and melody led them under its 
 influence to very notable achievements. Corelli's style wai 
 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, Loca- 
 telli, lie Clair and Nardini, possessed with the passion to 
 attain some ideal joy that their instrument seemed to 
 promise in possibility, soon brought their department of art 
 to almost the highest pitch of perfection. 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 for musical works which 
 could be completely intelligible on its own account, without 
 either systematic dance rhythm or contrapuntal devices or 
 words to explain it. The speed with which they advanced 
 towards an intelligent grasp of the principles necessary for 
 such a purpose of design is very surprising. It was probably 
 due to the fact that they were all 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 har- 
 monies, and not melody as only the upper part of a set ot 
 equal independent parts. The solo violin has been forced— an' 1 
 forced with success — to play contrapuntal movements ; but it 
 may be confessed, without disrespect to J. S. Bach, th.it 
 counterpoint is not its natural mode of expressing itself, and 
 that its resources of expression could not have led to th« 
 development of the typical Italian solo sonata if the accom 
 
198 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 paniment had been on equal terms with the solo instru 
 ment. It is naturally a single-part instrument — a singing 
 instrument with great capacity for enlivening and adorning 
 its cantabile with brilliant passages. It was therefore im- 
 perative for the player-composers to find a form which 
 should not depend for its interest upon contrapuntal in- 
 genuities and devices — a form which should mainly depend 
 upon distribution of melodious passages, supported by syste- 
 matic and simple harmonic accompaniment. The oppor 
 tunities for testing their experiments being plentiful, they 
 soon found and established 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 per 
 feet works. 
 
 The types which served these composers for models were the 
 Sonate 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 expression with- 
 out degenerating into incoherent 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 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 tempo- 
 rarily 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 con- 
 tours of connected melodic phrases (supported and defined by 
 simple harmonic accompaniment), gave the impression of definite 
 tonality — that is, of being decisively in some particular key, 
 and giving an unmistakable indication of it Thev found 
 out how to proceed by giving the impression of leaving that 
 key and passing to another, without departing from the 
 characteristic spirit and mood of the music, as shown in tha 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIO 1 99 
 
 "subjects" and figures; and how to give the impression of 
 relative completeness 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 
 disclosures. So they made the balance complete by re- 
 suming the subjects and melodic figures of the first half in 
 the extraneous key and working back to the starting-point ; 
 and they made their final close 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 each balance 
 the other more completely. They also lengthened the 
 second half of the movement by introducing more extensive 
 modulations in the middle of it, and thus introduced a 
 new and important element of contrast. How this simple 
 type 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 in principle 
 of structure as the familiar primitive minuet and trio. As 
 instrumental art was still in a very experimental 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; j. an expressive 
 slow movement ; 3. a lively finale — to which was often most 
 suitably appended a slow and dignified " introduction," to begin 
 the whole work. The reasons which made men gravitftt* 
 14 
 
200 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 towards this grouping of movements appear to be obvioua. 
 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 canzonas 
 in Sonate da Chiesa ; and as that would necessitate beginning 
 with only a single part sounding at a time, it was not sufficient 
 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 trival and light grounds they can with 
 difficulty be brought to attend to anything serious after- 
 wards. The principal allegro movement which follows the 
 introduction always tends to be the most elaborately or- 
 ganised of all the movements, and to appeal to the intel- 
 lectual side of the audience. In this the composer puts 
 forth all his resources of development and mastery of 
 design. The intellectual tendency was illustrated in the 
 early days by the fugal form in which the movement wag 
 usually cast, as in the Sonate 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 Sonate 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 con- 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC 201 
 
 trast, 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 move- 
 ment that the Italian violin-composers most frequently failed ; 
 and the same is the case with Haydn and Mozart and the 
 whole school of harpsichord-composers ; and the full perfec- 
 tion 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 technique of expression much 
 longer than for the technique of mere design. And it 
 may be noted in passing that nothing marks the dif- 
 ference between extreme modern music and the earlier phases 
 than the different degree and quality of passionate emo- 
 tion 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 intel- 
 ligible. 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. Restoring 
 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 com- 
 poser, 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 artiitio 
 •ubtleties and refinement^ of design. 
 
 3. The appeal to emotional sensibilities. 
 
202 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 com- 
 posers, as well as by the fatuity of musical malaprops. 
 
 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 comprehensive 
 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 capabilities 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 utterance 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 
 foundations 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 marvel- 
 lous, 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 harpsichord 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 
 play ere rather than composers ; for the quality that is most 
 
; MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC 203 
 
 conspicuous in his work is his thorough command of the 
 situatioffas a performer. His work, at its best, gives the 
 impression 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 an 1 
 incisiveness of his rhythms, the peculiarities of his harmony, 
 his wild whirling rapid passages, his rattling shakes, his leaps 
 from end to end of the keyboard, all indicate a preternaturally 
 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 principal object. 
 They serve as the means to convey his singularly characteristic 
 ideas in forms as abstract as modern sonatas. The definite- 
 ness 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 characteristic personality. In 
 spirit and intention his works prefigure one of the latest of 
 modern musical developments, 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 man- 
 kind, but his successors were very slow to avail themselves 
 cf it. The majority of harpsichord composers immediately 
 after his time were more inclined to follow a path tha* 
 was redolent of the saponaceous influences of opera, and 
 made their works but slightly distinct as forms of instru- 
 mental art. His influence is traceable here and there, but 
 it did not bear full frijit till the development of genuine 
 pianoforte playing began. 
 
 His sense of design was not so strong as his ideas or hi* 
 
204 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 feeling for effect. His works consist of single movements 
 which are almost invariably in the same form ae the earliei 
 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 ones, either technically or intrinsically. 
 He was too much of a performer to care much about the con- 
 ventional ingenuities of fugue, 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 expres- 
 sion 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 harpsi- 
 chord music the most deserving of mention is Pa radi si. 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 intelli- 
 gent feeling for harmonic design. The hest of his sonatas 
 (which are most frequently 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 structurally definite. He deserves credit also 
 for devising true sonata subjects, and escaping the tempta- 
 tion of writing fragments of operatic tunes with dummy 
 accompaniments — a rock upon which the Italians, and 
 even some very wise Germans in later times, were very 
 liable to split. 
 
 The true centre of progress in the line of the harpsichord 
 Bonata soon proved to be in Germany. As has been before 
 remarked, many of Germany's most distinguished composer* 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC 20 5 
 
 6uch 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 harmonisation, 
 and rhythmic and figurative interest, which was essentially 
 Teutonic. The high intellectual qualities come out both ia 
 his scope of harmony, and in the richness 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 
 it is not often the influence of the opera. Instrumental 
 music had 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 sonstas are usually 
 in three movements — the central one slow and express v.-, 
 and the first and last quick. It is characteristic of his 
 Teutonic disposition that he is a little shy of adopting the 
 traditional lightness and gaiety as the mood of his last 
 
i06 THE ART OF MUSIO 
 
 movement. But he finds an excellent alternative in forcibla 
 rigour and brilliancy. 
 
 There is yet another branch of instrumental music which 
 was very slow in developing, but has come in latex 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 contra- 
 puntal 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 was as essential to the 
 development 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 upon 
 them. 
 
 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 instru- 
 ments only, with the occasional 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 department 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 interesting, 
 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 
 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC 20"J 
 
 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 
 *ork, and in course of time the symphonies came to be con- 
 siderably in request on their own merits, apart from 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 for the most part saved themselves all 
 the trouble they could. They used musical material of such 
 slight definiteness 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 
 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 in- 
 struments, and equally little attempt to use their various 
 qualities of tone as means of effect. The horn parts had 
 4 he 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 instru- 
 ments, by degrees found out their great value as a means 
 of holding things together and supplying a sort of back- 
 ground of soft steady tone while the other instruments 
 were moving about. 
 
 When these " symphonies " or " overtures " came to b« 
 played more often apart from the operas, both composers and 
 
208 THE ART OF MUSIO 
 
 performers began to realise that they were wasting oppor 
 tunities by slovenliness. The process of coming round to 
 more sensible and refined ways is very interesting to 
 watch in the successive publications of these very numerous 
 symphonies. It is like the gradual return of a human being 
 to intelligence and right-mindedness after being temporarily 
 submerged in levity. At first the style of the works was 
 empty and conventional in detail, and it can be guessed that 
 the players hacked through the performances in a careless 
 style, which 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, or jrianos or fortes; and gradations of more delicate 
 nature are implied to have been entirely ignored. But as 
 time went on the directions for expression 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 capabilities of the instruments. Com- 
 posers 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 carelessness. The refinements of modern 
 orchestration, and those subtleties of sensuous colour-effect 
 which are among the most marvellous and almost un- 
 analysable 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 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC 209 
 
 sound of the harmony, as conveyed by the different instru- 
 mental timbres, which is quite different from the unassimilated 
 counterpoint of his great father's instrumental 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 harmony whose shades are constantly 
 shifting and varying. 
 
 Amongst the men 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 
 x> obtain various shades of piano and forte, 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 possibilities 
 of instrumental effect. He in his smaller way followed some- 
 thing of the same bine as Berlioz, laying very great, even 
 superfluous, stress on the importance of elaborate directions 
 to the performers. 
 
 The position of Philip Emmanuel Bach in this line of art 
 was important, though not quite in conformity with the 
 tendencies of his age. In his best symphonies he adopted a 
 line of his own ; similar in principle to the ways of his father 
 in his orchestral suites and concerti grossi. They have an 
 underlying basis of harmonic form, but yet they are quit* 
 
210 THE ART OF MUSIO 
 
 different in design and style from the symphonies of th« 
 Italian order above discussed ; and though remarkably vigo- 
 rous, animated and original in conception, they have not led to 
 any further developments on the same lines. His manage- 
 ment of the various instruments shows considerable skill and 
 clear perception of the effective uses to which they can be 
 put ; and he treats them with thorough independence and 
 variety. His feeling for orchestration is even more strik- 
 ingly 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 these, as in many other note- 
 worthy 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 contemporaries, and serve chiefly to illustrate the rapi- 
 dity 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 ygive 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 produced 
 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 considering how complete is the 
 change of attitude between Bach and Mozart, it is very credit- 
 able 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 
 
MODERN INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC 211 
 
 the time of Handel and Bach, and was going on, though on 
 different lines from those they followed, during their lifetime. 
 Their line of work branched out from the direct line of har- 
 monic music into a special province of its own. The purely 
 harmonic style was not sufficiently matured to allow of their 
 expressing themselves fully in it; had it been otherwise a 
 development like Beethoven's would have come nearly a 
 hundred years sooner. It was the possibility of combining 
 the polyphonic principles of the old choral art — painfully 
 worked out in the ages before harmonic music began — with 
 the simplest 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 preliminaries 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 instru- 
 mental music. 
 
 ( The main points so far achieved may be here gummed up. J 
 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 
 supply these typical solo instruments with intelligible music, 
 composers laboured with excellent 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 instrument* 
 in combination ; and before long the growing perception of 
 the adaptability of various kinds of technique and of the 
 relations of different qualities of tone to one another, and 
 of the possible functions of the different instruments in th« 
 
212 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 scheme of orchestral composition, put things in the right 
 direction to move on towards the accomplishment of the 
 highest and richest achievement in the story of music — the 
 employment of the complicated resources of an immense 
 aggregate °f different instruments for the purpose* 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 weakness of design. 
 One man cares only for melody, when another is satisfied with 
 grand harmony j one wants artistic 6kill, when another cares 
 only tor expression. This is true even of symphonies and 
 sonatas, and such pure examples of human artistic contrivance ; 
 but in opera the complication and variety of constituent 
 means of effect intensify the difficulties of the situation tenfold, 
 and the chances of satisfying all tastes are necessarily ex- 
 tremely remote, for the elements that have to be combined seem 
 to be almost incompatible. Scenic effect has to be considered 
 as well as the development of the dramatic situations, 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. Jfclugic, 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 pasMon 
 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 seemed as if people 
 had to take their choice, and either accept the music as the 
 
2 14 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 essential, and let the words and scenic appurtenances cease ta 
 have any dramatic significance ; or to fasten their attention 
 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 typical form 
 of movement known as the aria had been fairly established, 
 the ingenious artifices which had seemed to settle the plan 
 of operations degenerated into mere conventions, and even 
 musical progress in general came to a dead standstill It was 
 impossible 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 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 absurd. It 
 was like performing " King Lear" and the " School for Scandal " 
 in alternate acts. But the ultimate result was eminently 
 beneficial to opera in general. The composers who took the 
 opera buffa in hand developed a special style for the purpose 
 — merry, bright, vivacious, and pointed, and in its way very 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA 2 I 5 
 
 characteristic. In the music of the opera seria no attempt 
 was made to follow the action in the music, because action in 
 such situations could have amounted to nothing more than 
 stilted gesticulation. But the composers of the intermezzi 
 tried to keep the scene in their minds, and to accentuate 
 gestures by sforzandos and queer surprising progressions, 
 in accordance with the meaning of the actions, and so to 
 bring all the resources of effect into the closest union. 
 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 ex- 
 pression 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 per- 
 formed Italian intermezzi, and aroused much controversy and 
 opposition, 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 typo 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 Mozart's light and merry scenes 
 in "Seraglio," "Nozze 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 dis- 
 position that it coloured his work throughout ; and traces 
 of it peep out in symphonies, quartettes and sonatas, as well 
 16 
 
2l6 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 »s in his operas. And even Beethoven sometimes gives eleai 
 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 drifts into 
 formality, and composers and artists show that their efforts 
 are concentrated upon the utterance of mere barren conven- 
 tionalities, light music, and even vulgar and trivial music, 
 which gives people a strong impression of being genuinely 
 human, is bound to succeed best of the two. The audiences 
 of the comic opera were at least allowed to take some genuine 
 interest, and to get a genuine laugh out of the human per- 
 plexities and comic situations, and to feel that there was a 
 reality about them which the heroic complacencies of the opera 
 seria did not possess. 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 time. 
 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 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 
 
 * Quartett in B[>, Op. 1 8, No. 6, at beginning. Opening tcene on 
 Fidelia Violin sonata in minor, last movement 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA 2\J 
 
 proposed ; but at least he succeeded in dispelling a good deal 
 of apathy, and in persuading people that real dramatic musio 
 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 even the famous librettist, 
 Metastasio himself. He made several isolated attempts 
 to re-establish 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 pro- 
 claimed 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 function, 
 that of seconding the poetry by enforcing the expression of the 
 sentiment and the interest of the situations without interrupt- 
 ing the action or weakening it by superfluous ornament . . . 
 I have been very careful never to interrupt 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 flexibility 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 passage at pleasure. 
 
 " My idea was that the Sinfonia ought to indicate the sub- 
 ject, and prepare the spectators for the character of the piece 
 they are about to see ; that the instruments ought to be intrc- 
 
£ I 8 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 duced in proportion to the degree of interest and passion in 
 the words; and that it was necessary, 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 considera- 
 tions, or by his practical exposition of them 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 held 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 
 resources, more lightness and variety and geniality in the 
 music, and a better artistic standard of work all around. He 
 was a man of musically 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 conspicuously different from 
 the average Italian product 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 Rameau 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 lie attacked were in the 
 Italian form of opera, and that the natural form of Fiench 
 opera was not so amenable to his criticisms, yet it was better 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA 219 
 
 to promulgate them in a place where people 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 " Iphigenie 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 "Armide" in 1777. After this a very estimable 
 Italian composer, Piccini, was brought over from Italy by 
 Gluck's opponents in the hopes of defeating him in a down- 
 right contest ; and for a while the fervours of the rival parti- 
 sans divided Paris. Gluck brought out his final manifesto, 
 "Iphigenie 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 victoiy, 
 as far as the development of the art is concerned, is the 
 restoration of the element of genuine human 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 Franch operatic scheme to be discarded without almost 
 certainty of failure. But, in the case of the arias, he did his 
 be.^t 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 oouoentrated 
 a great deal of genuine expression. For the ballets he bad 
 the justification of the ancients; and he undoubtedly applied 
 them in many cases extremely well. Wherever it v,u 
 
2 20 THE ART OF MUSIO 
 
 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 Rarueau, who had both adopted a 
 free style of expressive declamation with definite accompani- 
 ment; 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 lines, improved immensely upon their standard in 
 respect of refinement and artistic finish. Moreover, the ex- 
 pressive qualities of his admirable recitatives 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 pass- 
 ing moment of feeling implied by the dialogue. Composers 
 were successfully developing the sense of the functions and 
 resources 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 ap- 
 plied 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 anticipated modern 
 procedure in adapting his colours exactly to the mood of the/ 
 situation. A good deal hail 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 bo expected from 
 his training. He shows very little feeling for polyphony, or 
 for the effects which are produced by those kinds of chords 
 which become possible oidy through the independent treat- 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA 22 1 
 
 ment of parts. In this respect he was the very opposite of 
 Bach. His early experiences of choral writing had been in a 
 bad school ; and his choruses, except when animated by some 
 powerful dramatic impulse, are poor 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 choral 
 writing is inferior. There is no attempt to treat his instru- 
 ments 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 harmoni- 
 cally, more impressive than the work of modern composers 
 who have a more copious supply to draw from, but less dis- 
 cretion 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 at times a somewhat pointless mannerism ; but the 
 greatness of his genius is emphasised by the fact that he con- 
 trived to attain a very high pitch of genuine expression, and 
 to sustain the general musical character of extensive works, in 
 conformity with the nature of the situations, at a time when 
 the resources of expression, especially in the dramatic line, 
 were very limited. It must also be remembered that the 
 development of modern instrumental forms of art had only 
 just begun, and Gluck lacked models of orchestral style as 
 well as of design. It so happened that the first of Mozart's 
 ■ymphonies which is really notable from the point of view of 
 gtyle 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 in its infancy. Moreover, Gluck had no such natural 
 gift for the management of general effect as Mozart. Ilia 
 powers as a composer were developed mainly under the in- 
 fluence of his strong feeling for things dramatic and poetical, 
 
22 2 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 and it was the intensity with which lie felt the situation! 
 which gave him musical utterance. His orchestration has 
 none of the roundness or balance or maturity of Mozart's. 
 It is unequal and uncertain, and requires humouring in per- 
 formance to make it produce the effect which 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 the history of art in certain directions 
 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 composers were not 
 troubled with convictions as Gluck was, and they have too 
 often liked bad music quite as much as their audiences. Upon 
 French opera the influence of Gluck was more permanent, 
 and his schemes were developed by later composers to gran- 
 diose proportions, sometimes with excellent results, sometimes 
 with an unfortunate tendency to emphasise histrionic dis- 
 play, 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 requirements. 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. 
 
 Though the genuine opera seria of the Italians was no! 
 destined to be lifted out of the ruts into which it had fallen 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA 223 
 
 for a long while, the scheme which their composers 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 
 composers and their German imitators. He was no reformer 
 by nature, and the immense services he did to art were 
 in no sense either speculative or theoretic, but merely a 
 sort of natural growth ; amounting to a general improve- 
 ment of the texture of things rather than to a marked change 
 either in principles or details. He was gifted with an extra- 
 ordinarily keen sense of beauty, and with the most astound- 
 ing natural facility in all things artistic which ever was the 
 lot of man. The inevitable consequence was that he began 
 to see how to improve upon the work of his predecessors 
 in every direction very early; and he was afforded ample 
 opportunities. 
 
 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 composition ; 
 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 though they show 
 his unusual powers in finished modelling of melody, and skilful 
 management of accompaniment, they do not need any 
 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 
 
224 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 depart- 
 ments 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 (1781) for the Carnival in Munich, where he had 
 every inducement to exert himself to the utmost, 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 go very much richer and better 
 than any earlier opera of its class that it makes a point of 
 signal importance in the story of the art. To begin with, lie 
 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 instrument in the way best suited to its 
 special idiosyncrasies gives the effect of security and com- 
 pleteness. Nothing is wasted. No player of a wind instru- 
 ment merely blows into his pipe to make a sound to fill up a 
 gap, 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 introducing 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 fin«j 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA 225 
 
 artistic sense is shown. The earlier composers had to concen- 
 trate 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 back- 
 ground. Mozart's spontaneous instinct for artistic fitness 
 brought things to their proper level, and simultancou.-lv raised 
 the standard of interest in every respect. Even in the matter 
 of singing and acting the soloist has in this case 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 situa- 
 tions 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 has repeated 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 murder, or the pussion of 
 a prima donna in full sight of an audience. Mozart showed 
 a superiority to that weakness 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 Btage 
 machinery is but the symboL Mozart never ti 
 through laying too much stress on expression. It was 
 necessarily rather the reverse, for he belonged to a formal 
 period; in which the machinery of art claimed s 
 deal of attention. But within the limits of formal ity lie 
 often succeeded in infusing true and sincere human exp 
 sion, and he used his resources of colour, rhythm, and 
 melody with perfect relevancy to the situations. In I 
 respects the distance between his work and that of the 
 Italian composers of his time is really enormous. But 
 
2 26 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 make- 
 shift 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; for its chaotic inanity is such 
 a perversion of the purpose of music that it becomes far 
 more noticeable than dialogue, which pretends to be nothing 
 more than it is. 
 
 Apart from these recitatives, Mozart probably carried expres- 
 sion as far as was then possible within the limits by which he was 
 bound. His instinct for design was too cautious to allow him 
 to venture upon untried methods which might fit 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 under- 
 stood, 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 counter- 
 point 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 forma- 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPKRA 227 
 
 lity 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 spread- 
 ing 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 \ip 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 Mozut'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 
 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 Teu- 
 tonic. The music itself is admirable, and every artistic ac- 
 cessory 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 instrumenta- 
 tion and phraseology are all 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 im- 
 part 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 Singspiel 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 wai 
 
2 28 THE ART OF MUSIO 
 
 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 cynically humorous, and seem scarcely fit 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 realities 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 exigencies of his story, the composer has 
 to deal with a tragic moment, that the formality necessarily 
 becomes prominent. Real tragic intensity of feeling would 
 be quite out of place in such surroundings ; and such 
 sorrows as Elvira'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 situations 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, especially at the end of 
 an act. This was the way in which complete assimilation 
 of the musical factors into a composite whole was gradually 
 approached. In some cases, as in the finales in Figaro, he 
 contrives to make the interchange of dialogue between the 
 characters very rapid for a long time at a stretch, producing 
 an extremely animated effect But it illustrates th« imma- 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OP MODERN OPERA 2 25 
 
 turity 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 thi.- 
 device of phrase repetition he used without the least disguise. 
 lie probably borrowed it from the Italian composers of opera 
 buffa, and it became so much 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. On the other 
 hand, Mozart undoubtedly brought his music into very close 
 connection with the action, especially in comic scenes. It 
 sometimes fits so perfectly that it seems as though 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 development 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 brightness of the 
 music might have otherwise obtained, completely impos- 
 sible. " 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 which could inspire him 
 to fresh achievements. 
 
 His last operatic work was far more important, for one* 
 again it made him the representative of the German aspira 
 tion to have a national opera. On the previous occasion the 
 experiment had been made under the auspices of the Austiian 
 Emperor and his court; the new one was made for an essen- 
 tially popular audience. The invitation came from the actor- 
 manager Schikaneder, who had been catering for the Viennew 
 public for some time with fair success. He conceived the 
 
2 30 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 idea that the German public would be attracted by a magia 
 opera; and to judge from the surprising number of magic 
 operas which have since appeared in Germany, he gauged 
 the Teutonic disposition in that respect very acutely. The 
 play, which Schikaneder himself prepared and called " Die 
 Zauberflbte," is almost unintelligible ; but it contained 
 some good opportunities for musical effect, and as the 
 interest 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 alto- 
 gether inappropriate 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, though 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 accompaniment, 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 accompaniment 
 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, associated 
 with the forms of accompaniment which support a solo voice 
 in the very simplest manner. They were perfectly content to 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF MODERN OPERA 23 I 
 
 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 different arias 
 and scenas ; and the same successions of chords Berved 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 Diirer 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 harmony became one also 
 very early. And a? harmony has more power of immediate 
 expression than melody, the Teutonic nature was drawn 
 towards it more and more. And as polyphonic treatment 
 enhances the capacity of harmony for expression, and gives 
 vitality to its inner details, the Teutonic mind was also drawn 
 in that direction. Polyphony is melody multiplied, and repre- 
 sents 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 impossible for their 
 ideals of operatic art to be satisfied with such immature con- 
 ditions as are represented in Mozart's operas, admirable 
 though the works themselves are as representing the Italian 
 conception of art. But though Mozart, owing to his circum- 
 stances, and the state of art at that time, could not satisfy 
 the full aspirations of the Germans in tluir own field, he 
 raised Italian opera to its highest point. His more earnest 
 German surroundings, and his experiences at Mannheim, led 
 his impressionable disposition to the full development of his 
 marvellous aptitude for orchestration ; to a higher, richer, and 
 16 
 
232 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 more characteristic standard of melody ; to a wider range of 
 harmony, and more perfect modelling and management of 
 design, than had ever been attained by Italians. In all these 
 things he enriched the art to an enormous extent, and left it 
 more highly organised in nearly all its various department* 
 than when he took it up. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE MIDDLE STAGE OF "SONATA" FORM 
 
 rHE principles upon which self-dependent instrumental music 
 was being developed during the greater part of the eighteenth 
 century were quite new to mankind. Before men developed 
 the capacity for understanding the classification of harmonies 
 in connection with certain tonal centres, such principles 
 were altogether inconceivable. But when once the idea of 
 harmonic centralisation was well established, progress in 
 readiness to grasp the artistic purpose of the composer in 
 disposing his groups of harmony, so as to convey the im- 
 pression of design, was extraordinarily rapid ; as may be 
 judged by the difference in obviousness 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 instrumental 
 works, to gratify the feeble taste of their fashionable 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 under their notice. And though their higher 
 sense of style and expression rejected the more trivial ind 
 •superficial things that they heard, their own work became a 
 
2 34 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 Bort of instinctive generalisation, which was based on th« 
 general average of all that attracted their attention. Every- 
 thing 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 over- 
 comes 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 excellences 
 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 establishment 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 contemporaries, 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 intelligible when the course of its history is 
 taken into consideration. 
 
 The aim of composers was first to establish a point of de- 
 parture ; and when that had been sufficiently insisted upon, to 
 set out from it and find an orderly series of contrasts of as 
 many 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 ordinary dance tune, which pro 
 ceeded from a given point to a contrasting point, and after 
 laying sufficient stress upon that point to emphasise the con- 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF "SONATA FORM 2J5 
 
 trast, worked back again and re-established the initial posi- 
 tion. 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 material 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 presented 
 itself definitely at the outset. The plan of a considerable 
 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 order of distribution of materials was adopted ; but 
 in accordance with harmonic requirements, the passages which 
 coincided in musical material were lengthened, and made 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 [( 
 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 keys were repeated in the 
 second half of the movement in positions corresponding to the 
 arrangement of the earlier form ; the first idea ooming in 
 the key of contrast at the beginning of the second half, and the 
 •econd in the home key at the end. The portion between the 
 two subjects in the second half began to expand very early ; 
 
2^6 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 both to widen the scope of the modulations, and because com. 
 posers' instincts told them that there still was a lack of con- 
 trast 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 distributing them in 
 progressions which had an appearance of being unsystematic. 
 
 By the time the movement had expanded to such propoi- 
 tions, the mere re-statement of the second subject at the end 
 was barely sufficient to give a comfortable reassurance of 
 being safe home in the original key. And, moreover, as the 
 progress of music in general was tending to a much more 
 decisive recognition of the musical subjects and ideas them- 
 selves 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 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 1 , transition ending in b* || a*, transition ending in b 1 , 
 
 2nd form . A 1 B* | A 8 modulations B 1 . 
 
 jrdform . A 1 B 2 || A s modulations A 1 B l . 
 
 A , , ai x>« o modulation and A1 t>. 
 
 4 th form . A» B» | developmenfc A* B*. 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF " SONATA " FORM 237 
 
 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 repeti- 
 tion 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 com- 
 monly dispensed with, because the musical instinct has become 
 so quick to grasp any indication 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 the first move- 
 ments of such later sonatas as the Waldstein (Opus 53) and 
 the one in FJJ (Opus 78). In movements which are so deci- 
 sively 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 101), 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's being distracted 
 by it 
 
 The prominence which Italian operatic taste gave to 
 melody and to superficial views of art led people to regard the 
 principle of design as consisting of the exposition of a first 
 tune in one key and of a second tune in a contrasting key, 
 and certain developments based on them to follow and com- 
 plete 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 often write 
 two 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 
 
238 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 at short and incisive figures for their musical ideas, which 
 indicated the spirit and mood of their work in a manner 
 more suited to pure instrumental music, and made them lay 
 hold of the mind quickly; and they completed the musical 
 sentences, which represented each essential key, by repeating 
 the most characteristic figures in different positions in the 
 scale, or with ingenious variations of detail which gave thea 
 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 con- 
 veyed in terms of the tonic chord of the movement, which is 
 the essential point from which the outset is made. A few 
 examples may be noted in the following works. Scarlatti's 
 Sonata in G major — 
 
 the principal allegro movement of Tartini's Sonata in Q minor 
 (Didone Abandonnata) — 
 
 Paradisi's Sonata in D major, Mozart's well-known Sonata in 
 C minor, Beethoven's Sonata in F minor (No. 1), the last 
 movement of his Sonata in C# minor ; the first of his Sonata 
 Appassionata, his overture Leonora (No. 3), and Weber's 
 Sonata in A7. 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 exist- 
 ence have some such principle inherent in their structure 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF " SONATA FORM 239 
 
 But the subject itself is not the form, nor until it is repeated 
 is it a necessary factor in the scheme of a design in the 
 abstract. It is the idea or musical fact of melody, or 
 rhythm, or harmony, which conveys the mood or thought 
 which the composer wishes to express. The mould in which 
 the idea is cast is a different thing. The idea may be ex- 
 pressed 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 j and upon its 
 being understood in that sense, the feeling for the design of 
 the movement as a whole depends; but the chord is not an 
 idea till it is vitalise I by rhythm or melody. Similarly, the 
 design in a picture does not consist of the subject, but of the 
 manner in which the factors which indicate the subject are dis- 
 tributed. The design in music of the sonata order consists of 
 the distribution of the keys and tonal centres and subcentres, 
 rather than of the so-called subjects, or the order in which they 
 are presented. This point requires to be emphasised, 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 or typical musical ideas 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 character is 
 go strongly illustrative of the harmonic principle of design as 
 employed in sonatas, as to call for special notice. 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 decisive confirmation, because the 
 impression of the first has to be obliterated. For that reason 
 the second principal idea is generally put into irery definite 
 and clear terms of tonality, and is often followed by nnmeroni 
 accessory passages obviously indicative of the key ; and finally, 
 when the period which represents the contrasting key comes 
 to an end, the wisest composers confirmed that k*>y strongly 
 by introducing a short new subject of specially attractive 
 
240 THE ART OF MUSIO 
 
 character, which is entirely modelled upon a group of chords 
 forming a complete cadence. The function of this subject is 
 essentially to call attention to the particular point in the 
 design where the division representing 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 intention. The first part 
 of the movement aims at definiteness in every respect — dofinite- 
 ness of subject, definiteness of contrast of key, 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, 
 tbe obliteration of the sense of regularity by grouping the bars 
 irregularly ; and aims, 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 principal 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 justi- 
 fication and reason for existence. Each concord must have its 
 due relation to its immediate context, each discord must have 
 its resolution, each statement its counter-statement. From the 
 point of view of the subject or idea persistent interest is given 
 to every moment by the distribution and coherent relevancy 
 of the melodies and rhythms employed, by the variety of the 
 situations and the lights in which the musical figures are 
 placed, and by the development of such climaxes as are in- 
 herent in the very principle of their structure. In the most 
 perfect movements there can be no moment when the prin- 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF " SONATA " FORM 24 1 
 
 ciple of design is lost sight of, or the ideas cease to he articu- 
 late. But it must be confessed that there have been only 
 two or three composers in the history of the world who hav« 
 had such complete hold of their resources as to produce move- 
 ments which are entirely perfect from end to end 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 uni- 
 formly adopted for sonatas, symphonies, overtures, quartetts, 
 and all forms of chamber music, and sometimes for .small 
 lyrical pieces. The development of self-dependent instru- 
 mental 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 has 
 sometimes been used also for the emotional slow movements, 
 but it was more usual to adopt a simpler type 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 suitahle 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 interesting by throwing the vari- 
 ous sections into groups, and by distributing the subject-11 
 so as to give enhanced interest to the rather primitive type of 
 struct ire. 
 
 By the time that Haydn and Mozart arrived upon the scene 
 this scheme of instrumental music was fairly established, but 
 It had been used by most composers before their time crudely, 
 obviously, and mechanically. While the form was new it was 
 enjoyable as a novelty, and as a mere piece of mechanical in- 
 genuity, and the perverting influence of the predominating 
 operatic taste prevented composers from applying any faculties 
 
242 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 fchey might have possessed to the improvement of the detail* 
 It was the superior artistic instinct of Mozart 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 impelled the two great composers 
 into their respective courses 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 professional 
 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 favourable 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 indi- 
 viduality 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 ex- 
 perience of artistic music came late, and who had, like Bacn 
 and Beethoven, and many others of the great ones, to work 
 out his own musical salvation. And, to emphasise the diffe- 
 rence between the two men, where Mozart had been entirely 
 subject to Italian influences from the first, and found hia 
 most congenial model in such a type as John Christian Bach 
 — the Italian Bach — Haydn by good fortune or happy instinct 
 took for his model Philip Emmanuel Bach, the only promi- 
 nent composer in Europe who retained any touch of the old 
 traditions of Northern Germany, and some of the sincere and 
 noble spirit of his father, which spared not to make every 
 detail as characteristic and full of vitality as circumstances 
 allowed. The result is that Haydn is throughout as Teutonio 
 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 char- 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF " SONATA " FORM 243 
 
 acteristic vitality; while Mozart, with more delicate artistic 
 perception, more sense of beauty, a much higher gift of tech- 
 nique 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 peculiarly, 
 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 progressed 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 composer; for the circum- 
 stances 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 severe trials of his youth, Haydn's circumstances 
 changed, and he thereafter enjoyed advantages such as have 
 hardly fallen to the lot of any other 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 nad every encouragement to write the best music he 
 could produce 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 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 purpose 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 slight est 
 description ; short, undeveloped, and not very interesting in 
 detail. His early symphonies were exactly of the standard 
 
344 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 adopted by the average composer of such things all over the 
 musical world at that time; and not notably better in the 
 matter of scoring than John Christian Bach's. There is char- 
 acter 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 instrumental music 
 were called into play. The musical traditions at Mannheim 
 were at that time probably the best in Europe, and their 
 effect upon Mozart was immediate and 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 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 symphonies which he wrote in 
 Vienna in 1788 represent the highest level in idea and style 
 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 except the 
 quartette ; and their general standard of treatment and thought 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF " SONATA " FORM 245 
 
 is nobler and more genuinely vigorous than that of any other 
 of his works except the Requiem. In management of or- 
 chestral 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 intro- 
 duction of short subtle excursions out of his principal keys 
 in unexpected 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 conventional 
 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 sym- 
 phony form on a secure basis ; and no doubt he did a great 
 deal for it. But the first symphonies 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 sym- 
 phonies 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 cultivated 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 of 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 kind of 
 treatment best suited to the group of four solo instruments. 
 
24 6 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 completely 
 to the necessities of the situation ; without adopting a poly- 
 phonic manner, and without sacrificing the independence of 
 his instruments. 
 
 Instrumental music was at this time branching out into sc 
 many forms that it is not possible to follow his treatment 
 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 his heart 
 into them, probably for amateur pupils. There are, of course, 
 very important exceptions, and some interesting 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 copying his manner, only came to his finest achievements 
 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 dis- 
 appeared ; and though he never succeeds in getting such a 
 perfectly mellow equal tone as Mozart's, he treats all his 
 instruments with absolute freedom and fitness. The old tradi- 
 tions 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 polyphonic than 
 Mozart's; which accounts for the sound of the instruments 
 not assimilating in the mass of tone quite so well. It was 
 more natural for Mozart to think of the harmonies whicb 
 
THE MIDDLE STAGE OF " SONATA FORM 247 
 
 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 contra- 
 puntal in turn, that it would be unwise to lay too much stress 
 on this point. Mozart achieves a degree of beauty in his slow 
 movements to which Haydn does not attain; but in the solid 
 allegros Haydn is more genuinely vigorous than Mozart In 
 the minuet movements — which fori*, 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 merri- 
 ment are those of the simple honest peasant, while Mozart's 
 is the wit of a man of the world. 
 
 The artistic 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 countries, and the clavier sonatas. 
 The scope of movements was small and without much develop- 
 ment, 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 com- 
 plete forms; such as symphonies, concertos, quartet ts, b 
 and sonatas for violin and clavier. The style appropriate 
 to each had been more or less ascertained, and the schemes 
 of design had beeii perfectly organised for all self-dependent 
 instrumental music. Both Haydn and Mozart immensely 
 improved upon their predecessors in the power of finding 
 characteristic subjects, and in deriding the type of subject 
 which is best fitted for instrumental music. The difference 
 in that respect between their early and later work.-, is very 
 marked. They improved the range of the symphonic cycle 
 17 
 
248 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 movement. Between them they had 
 completely transformed 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 effective features in the system of modern music. Even 
 in detail the character of music is altered in their hands ; 
 all phraseology is made articulate and definite ; and the 
 minutiae which lend themselves to refined and artistic per- 
 formance 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 perfection 
 by them ; and if the world could be satisfied with the ideal 
 of perfectly organised simplicity, without any great force of 
 expression, instrumental art might well have stopped at the 
 point to which they brought it 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE PERFECT BALANCE OF EXPRESSION 
 AND DESIGN 
 
 The style and intrinsic qualities of music so faithfully reflect 
 the state of human affairs of the time at 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 inde- 
 pendent 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 religious enthusiasm which had 
 sprung up at the time of the Reformation. 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 manifested 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 different footing in that respect from the 
 ordinary work of everyday life. Inspiration without methods 
 and means at its disposal will no more enable a man to write a 
 symphony than to build a ship or a cathedral. No doubt a 
 primeval savage might be inspired with feelings very much 
 like those of some modern composers ; but the means and the 
 
2 50 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 knowledge how to express these feelings in terras of art would 
 be 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 crea- 
 tures to make the means and the methods for the expression 
 of the inner impulses richer and more perfect. It is a puro 
 accident that when the means become plentiful and the methods 
 very well understood, 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 justification for their employment. The mere manage- 
 ment 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 lan- 
 guage 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 adequately developed. 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 millennium befoi-e 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 never- 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN 2$ 1 
 
 theless owes them great thanks ; for though men may be 
 deceived in hoping too much and attempting the impossible, 
 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 development 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 urgently needed 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 con- 
 tented with the average progress of things, and finds no neces- 
 sity 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 completed. They did 
 for characteristic style what he did mainly for the organisa- 
 tion of melody, colour, and design. And when those various 
 phases of art which they represented had been put into prac- 
 tical shape, the resources of the composer who was to come 
 were enormously enlarged. 
 
 Tne 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. Be 
 the difference in opportunities, there were immense diflen 
 in the type of the 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-dependence very early, and to make acquaintance 
 
252 THE ART OP MUSIC 
 
 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 plea- 
 6antest. 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 com- 
 paratively 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 facility of diction, come to the point 
 of production early, and do not grow much afterwards. Such 
 composers as Mozart and Mendelssohn succeeded in express- 
 ing themselves brilliantly at a very early age; but their 
 technical facility was out of proportion to their individuality 
 and force of human nature, and therefore there is no such 
 surprising difference between 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 sh.ow 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 best days, makes its 
 appearance; such a stroke as the end of the Coda of the 
 Righini variations, which presents a device which he carried 
 out more effectually and for more expressive purposes much 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIQN 253 
 
 later 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 'a 
 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 
 in other phases ; but it was allotted to Beethoven 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 their principles, and expanding them to 
 the utmost that they would bear. 
 
 It is indeed a most characteristic feature of Beethoven'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 fortune that the sonata form had been so perfectly 
 organised, 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 design ; 
 and even to grasp what he aimed at when he purposely pre- 
 sumed upon their familiarity with it, to build fresh subtleties 
 and new devices upon the well-known lines; and sometimes 
 even to emphasise vital points by making progressions in direc- 
 tions which seemed deliberately to avoid them. Beethoven 
 had a great gift for extemporisation ; and there are many 
 Bubtle devices in his work that look as if he had tested 
 the power of his audiences to follow his points by actual 
 
254 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 observation. like Scarlatti, he often seems to play upon 
 his audience, and to anticipate 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 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 B? 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 char- 
 acteristic 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 
 brilliant Waldstein Sonata is Opus 53 ; close upon it cornea 
 the first symphony which is genuinely great in all aspects, 
 the Eroica, completed in 1804 ; then one of the most impul- 
 sive and passionate of the sonatas, that in F minor, Opus 5 7 ; 
 then the delicate G major Concerto, with the extraordinary 
 slow movement, instinct with the dramatic spirit of the very 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DKSION 255 
 
 beet moments of Gluck ; the Rasoumoffski Quartette, Opus 59; 
 ~tire Bi? Symphony; the Violin Concerto; the rugged Overture 
 to Coriolan ; the C minor Symphony, which is the concentrated 
 essence of the individual Beethoven of that time; the Pastoral 
 Symphony, 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 noble Concerto in Efr, justly 
 called the Emperor ; the Quartett in E?; the romantic Seventh 
 Symphony, and the playful Eighth Symphony, which he called 
 his little one ; and the Trio in B7, Opus 97. But as his Opus 
 numbers pass into the nineties a change begins to be discer- 
 nible in his style, especially in the Quartett in F minor, Opus 
 95. The warmth of expression, and the spontaneous flow of 
 energetic thought which mark 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 disposition. The iron had 
 entered into his soul, and it made him dive deeper into human 
 problems and emotions. 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 hia 
 suffering and his determination to endure. There is more 
 thought and more experience of life in this period ; and if lesi 
 of geniality than in his middle life, an infinitely wider range 
 of feeling, characteristic expression, and style. It seems aa 
 if his art had widened out from being the mere expression of 
 his own wonderful personality, and had become the interpreter 
 of the innermo> * joys and sorrows of all human creatures. In 
 order to find expression for all that he had in his mind, ha 
 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 impoesihle to play. But 
 this was in reality not because it was more technically diffi- 
 cult 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 
 
256 THE ART OF MUSIO 
 
 people how to perform it rightly ; and very few people had 
 enough musical intelligence to find out for themselves. la 
 later times the traditions of what is necessary for the 
 adequate interpretation of these works have been so care- 
 fully and minutely described, that even people of no in- 
 telligence sometimes contrive not to make great artistic 
 conceptions sound like nonsense ; and works once thought 
 impracticable are among the most familiar features of every- 
 day concerts. 
 
 It is a palpable fact to every one that Beethoven's workt 
 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 treatment of the instru- 
 ments he employs. 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 
 and glide over the keys with flat hands and inactive arms. The 
 early pianofortes had but slight fall in the keys, and conse- 
 quently 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 
 the more powerful muscles of wrists and arms were brought 
 into exercise ; and though typical conservative minds regarded 
 any effort to change their habits 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 dealing 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 harpsichord 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 pedal he managed to produce the floods of tone 
 in which his soul delighted. His contrivances in the latter 
 direction were especially important, as he not only widened 
 the capacities of the keyed instrument, but gave the first im- 
 pulse to the characteristic softening and clouding of outline* 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN 25; 
 
 which is so familiar in the no-called "'romantic" style of 
 recent times. In the orchestral branches of art the enrich- 
 ment of tone by the gradual increase of varieties of inel 
 ments had been going on ever since Alessandro Scarlatti'.- 
 time. The nucleus of strings with two pairs of wind instru- 
 ments, and a harpsichord to fill in the harmonies, whicl 
 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 instrumental tone to 
 the utmost. 
 
 The constitution of the orchestra has remained as he estab- 
 lished it ever since. The aspirations of modern sensational 
 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 over- 
 balanced by the great number of stringed instruments used 
 for large concert-rooms, the only balance of sonority in " forte " 
 passages is between strings and brass instruments. And this, 
 combined with the growing ta.-te for brilliancy of colour, has led 
 to a slight increase in the latter ilepartment. Beethoven en- 
 joyed the advantage, over Haydn and Mozart, that the actual 
 powers and technical efficiency of performers on orchestral 
 instruments had greatly improved. He could afford to R 
 more difficult passages, and to use a wider range of sounds. 
 Even in his first two symphonies he advanced beyond the 
 earlier masters in variety of effect and in a certain solemn 
 
258 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 depth which is very characteristic of some of his moods ; and 
 he uses his instruments with more and more distinctness of 
 purpose 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 has a place in his scheme, and the extraordinary 
 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 uncertainty and myntery cf 
 the horns, and their powers of enriching the softer harmonies, 
 are most especially congenial to him. He knows the majestic 
 force of the trombones in the loud passages, and their im- 
 pressive 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 in his music serve 
 not only for contrast, but, like colours, to excite sensibilities. 
 Mozart occasionally used special instruments to enforce situa- 
 tions, as in the wonderful accompaniment of soft swelling 
 trombones and horns to the voice of the oracle in " Idomeneo;" 
 and in the familiar passages for the brass instruments in " Don 
 Giovanni " and " Zauberflbte." But a large majority of his 
 special effects are for the mere purpose of pure beauty or con- 
 trast ; and his variety is not very great. For there is a great 
 family likeness in his frequent 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 to be 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 disintegrate 
 them. The expression is great because it comes exactly in 
 the true place in the scheme of design to tell. The colour 
 exerta its full influence, mainly because the expression and th« 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN 25^ 
 
 design put the inind 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. The 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 rhythmic 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 Meyerbeer 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 in his works 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 the disposal 
 or ordering of their contents. The form of the principal 
 movement (which is commonly known by the name of 
 " binary * ") is so wonderfully elastic that he found little 
 
 * The term "binary" is undoubtedly unhappy if too much stress is 
 laid on the relation of the plan of the modern type of movement to the 
 btrict meaning of the classical terms from which it is derived. The U »nn 
 ha.- changed so much that it presents an aspect more like a threefold 
 unity than a scheme consisting of two balanced divisions. Hut the word 
 still indicates the undoubted lineage of the type, and there are so many 
 qualities of style and distribution which distinguish it decisively from 
 the primary or simple three-limbed structure, which is its most frequent 
 antithesis, that any attempt to re-name or re-cla-sify the type is to b« 
 deprecated, as only tending to add fresh oonfosion to a subject already 
 obscured by superfluous variety of terminology. There are many words 
 In the English language which have changed their meaning, and do not 
 suggest what was originally meant by the syllables from which they 
 are derived ; yet every one understands them well enough. And the 
 language would hardly be a gainer if any one attempted to reconstruct 
 it, in order to restore the primitive meanings of familiar word*. 
 
260 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 occasion to alter it except by strengthening 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 comprehensive view of the situation, he varied 
 the number and order of the movements in all classes of in- 
 strumental works, sometimes increasing to five, and sometimes 
 reducing to two. Sometimes beginning with a slow move- 
 ment, sometimes omitting it altogether. His most important 
 alteration in the general scheme was the introduction of the 
 scherzo in place of the old minuet. The virtue of introducing 
 the minuet after the slow movement lay in the decisive con- 
 trast which the rhythmic principle of the dance afforded to the 
 cantabile character of the slow movement. But the choice 
 was 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 warranted; and composers ultimately gave up all 
 attempts to pay any attention to the relation of the music to 
 hypothetical dance motions, and took the movement presto, 
 and called it by a new name, the scherzo. 
 
 The fact that the 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. Both by 
 implication and in itself it is one of the most important of the 
 musical features which made their appearance in the early 
 part of this century. That it made such a much better contrast 
 to the slow movement than the minuet is really of secondary 
 importance, though from the purely artistic point of view the 
 improvement is considerable. Very much more important is 
 the meaning of the change in respect of expression. Many 
 people have unfortunately got into the habit of taking "ex- 
 pression " to mean only sentimental expression ; and conven- 
 tion has deprived the language of a comprehensive word in 
 order to give it a special bearing. In reference to music, it 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN 26 1 
 
 must be taken in its widest sense ; and at this moment it i« 
 particularly important to take note of the fact; as. the essence 
 of musical progress from Beethoven onwards lies in the 
 development 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 
 which usually characterised works designed upon harmonic prin- 
 ciples, that the plan of such 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 and 
 moods this apparent independence of uniformity and rule was 
 just perfectly apposite ; and it is interesting to note that 
 Mendelssohn's keen insight divined this fact, 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 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 deep interest in everything that concerned the human 
 creature, without respect of persons or classes, comes out 
 Other movements supplied him with the opportunities for 
 uttering graver sentiments and emotions; here he dealt with 
 mischief, rxillery, humour, fun of every description, in terms 
 that are like the healthy honest spirits of a child. Indeed 
 the analogies are generally most likely to be found in 
 the spontaneous merriment of children, for the veneer of 
 respectability and responsibility in people of mature yean 
 
2 62 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 buries most of the 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, 
 quartetts, and trios, where either variety of colour or the 
 crystalline clearness of violin tone afforded him better 
 opportunities. 
 
 The element of design is of such pre-eminent importance in 
 his works that it must inevitably be discussed in some detail ; 
 since the effect they produce depends so much upon his mar- 
 vellous concentration and self-control in that respect. Very few 
 people realise the paramount importance of systematic design, 
 and the extent to which it can be carried ; for though they 
 cannot fail to see how important it is in small things, they do 
 not follow out their observation 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 even when that much is seen, and 
 it is realised that the proper management of the successions 
 of chords and keys 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 through- 
 out 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 suc- 
 cessive 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 concentration 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN 
 
 26 3 
 
 in this respect is such as no other composer has ever ap- 
 proached. With all Mozart's skill in design, his work is 
 often very loose in texture compared with that of his suc- 
 cessor. A short discussion of an obvious parallel may help 
 to make this clearer. It 60 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 G minor 
 symphony. The gist of the idea is an energetic upward 
 leap through a rhythmic arpeggio to a 6trongly emotional 
 high note. 
 
 Mozart. 
 
 _ Bkkthovdt. fo)^_ 
 
 The high note, as the crisis, naturally requires something to 
 round it off. Mozart makes the emphatic point subside into 
 a sentimental harmony ; Beethoven cuts it off sharply by an 
 emphatic turn. 
 
 Moiabt. 
 
 £ 
 
 §£E 
 
 Bkthovkn. 
 
 i 
 
 
 # 
 
 ~tm±z= 
 
 rt 
 
 Mozart then simply breaks off and continues the proceedings 
 by a new phrase, which has no striking significance, but is 
 sufficient in relation to the style of the rest of the movement 
 to complete the sentence appropriately. 
 
 Beethoven, on the contrary, keeps firm hold of his text ; and 
 18 
 
264 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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. 11 
 
 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: — 
 
 Thus the whole of Beethoven's first sentence is knit together 
 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 ordei 
 
 Compare «h« Iriah folk-tone on page 79 for the 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN 265 
 
 of the harmony reversed, taking dominant first and tonio to 
 answer it, and 60 concludes : — 
 
 ih ^f^^^ iM^ 
 
 ^itfl 
 
 ^fe£,gafe33 
 
 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 next 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 easily 
 grasped, 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 
 motion of bass happily disguises it, while it also serves as an 
 additional 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 Beethoven resumes his subject in 
 the bass 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 intentions all at once ; so the key seems to 
 be C minor, though it is intended to lead to At>. When 
 the emotional point in the resumed subject-figure is reached, 
 it is immediately pushed on, together with the turn which 
 
266 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 makes it identifiable, by an unexpected discord. This of 
 course requires its resolution, which is made in such a 
 way as to produce another discord; and so by the neces- 
 sities of each resolution the music is pushed on step by 
 step till the 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 points 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 
 Mozart, in the parallel case above quoted, also uses his mate- 
 rials very consistently, and develops them into new phases ; 
 though 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 
 recognise. One of the most remarkable instances 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 D^ ; and for the purposes of design 
 it is necessary to modulate back to the principal key, F 
 minor, and to concentrate attention upon the chord imme- 
 diately preceding the step which finally announces that 
 
 * It may also be well to point out that the object of this detailed com- 
 parison is not to emphasise Beethoven's greatness at the expense of 
 Mozart, but to show the general tendencies of evolution. In this parti- 
 cular case Beethoven's treatment of his subject-matter admits of closet 
 scrutiny than Mozart's. But there are other cases in which Mozart un- 
 doubtedly has the advantape ; as in the parallel cases of " Batti batti," 
 and the slow movement oi Beethoven'i quintett in E? for pianoforte and 
 wind -h'rtrvmiTinti. 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN 267 
 
 the rambling and voyaging division of the movement is 
 over, and the principal key reached again. To do this Beeth 
 oven makes his bass rise slowly step by step for fifteen bars 
 — from the D^ below the bass stave to the D5 next under the 
 treble stave. The whole mass of the harmony rises with it, 
 with increasing excitement, so that the crisis of the emo- 
 tional aspect of the progression exactly coincides with the 
 point which it is most essential that the mind should grasp 
 firmly in anticipation of one of the most important points 
 in the scheme — the return to the original key and sub- 
 ject. 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 development portion of the first move- 
 ment of the sonata in At), Opus no, where the progression 
 drops down step by step for a whole octave; thereby com- 
 pletely 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 constantly 
 shifting by steps of thirds. The most remarkable instance 
 is the introductory movement to the fugue in the sonata in 
 Bl?, Opus 106, 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 tc his most elaborately contrived effects of harmonic 
 motion. 
 
 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 
 tonio chord. But he is very fond of suggesting and bewilder 
 
268 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 ing at the same time. Thus the principal part of the Eroica 
 ■ubject is made out of the tonic chord of E^, 
 
 fe fe^ =j L^ = J E^Egg 
 
 but then the whole aspect of things becomes perplexing for 
 m moment by its passing straight out of the key with 
 
 ^ 
 
 tst 
 
 and the mind is for a moment 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. But in reality he has no intention 
 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 pro- 
 gression inside out; leaving them even more perplexed and 
 interested than before. Similarly he sometimes begins quite 
 out of the key in order to make the safe arrival at the true 
 gtarting-point the more striking. Again he sometimes casts 
 even his first subject in the form of a sequence, which leads 
 out of the key immediately, as in the sonata in E minor, 
 Opus 90 ; but in this case the progressions move by such 
 a logical process that when the circuit is complete the im- 
 pression of the key is a great deal stronger and more 
 vital than if he had contented himself with alternating 
 tonic and dominant all the while. Both Brahms and 
 Wagner have followed him in this device. Brahms in the 
 Second Rhapsody, 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, supertonic, &c. 
 Of this there are two exactly parallel cases in works as dif- 
 ferent 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 or contrasting key. 
 
BALANCE OF EXPRESSION AND DESIGN 
 
 269 
 
 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 characteristic figure, as in the 
 subject of the A^ sonata, Opus no; or the persistence of a 
 rhythmic nucleus which underlies 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 C# minor sonata (commonly 
 called Moonlight). And when there are phases like this he 
 generally extends them, in the development of the subjects, 
 into new situations and aspects. A happy instance of this is 
 the treatment of the second subject in the last movement of 
 the same C# minor sonata : — 
 
 £fc 
 
 3K 
 
 «-**-*-*— 1± 
 
 Here at the asterisks the accented note successively rises and 
 gains in warmth ; and thus it becomes the most striking 
 feature of the subject. So at the end of the movement 
 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 : — 
 
 His power of presenting the same subject in different aspects 
 has a very important bearing on the nature of recent progress 
 of the art. In his case it is particularly valuable in the 
 development of a movement, as it enabled him to keep true 
 
27 O THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 to his initial idea without sameness or mer« obvious repetition^ 
 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 chameleon 
 thought which is capable of undergoing all kinds of myste- 
 rious changes ; and of being expressed sometimes gaily, some- 
 times 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 polyphonic 
 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 rever- 
 sion to the methods of the old ecclesiastical music after the 
 speculative revolution of Peri and Monteverde, described in 
 Chapter VII. 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 and characteristic discord was required ; while at 
 the same time it afforded much more delicate gradations of 
 degrees of harshness. 
 
 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 
 
BALANCE OF EXl'RKSSION AND DESIGN 27 I 
 
 sense of friemls 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 Symphony. That it was " mehr Ausdruck der 
 Empfindung, als Mulerei" — "More the expression of inner 
 feeling than picturing." The most common failing of minds 
 less keen than Beethoven's is to try to 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 im- 
 pressions 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 with the possible workings 
 of the mind in special moods or under the influence 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 pos- 
 sible 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 them- 
 selves is shown by the general adoption 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. 
 
 Beethoven's opportunity lay in the comprehensive develop- 
 ment of the resources of art, and in the fact that the princi- 
 ples 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 effect were as yet not so 
 great as to tempt him to extravagance. Indeed he himself 
 had to collect and develop and systematise much of them, 
 and he 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 common- 
 place, or to resort to hyper-intellectual devices to hide its 
 
272 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 familiarities. 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 in the highest phase of true and noble 
 characteristic expression. 
 
CHAPTER Xm 
 
 MODERN TENDENCIES 
 
 Beethoven stands just at the turning-point of the ways oi 
 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 accumu- 
 lation of artistic resources — in the direction of human ex- 
 pression. 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 im- 
 pelled to resent the conventions of form which seemed to 
 fetter his imagination, and began his wanderings and experi- 
 ments anew in the irrepressible conviction that every road 
 must lead somewhere. A new artistic crisis had been passed, 
 similar to the crisis of Palestrina and Bach, but implying a 
 6till greater organisation 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 religious devotion. 
 Bach, more touched by the secular spirit, and fully capable 
 of strong emotion, formulates a more comprehensive and 
 energetic type of religious sentiment, and foreshadows, by 
 his new combination of rhythm and polyphony, the musical 
 expression of every kind of human feeling. Beethoven ex- , 
 presses the complete emancipation of human emotion and 
 mind, and attempts to give expression to every kind of mood 
 and of inner sensibility which is capable and worthy of being 
 brought into the circuit of an artistic scheme of design. 
 
2 74 THE ART OF MUSIO 
 
 / 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 neces- 
 sary to make a grand scheme of art, and to render possible 
 examples of it which are nearly perfect from every point of 
 view, is ouly 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 them into order; at best it is a love of 
 beauty for itself. At one stage in art's history an excessive 
 delight in design and abstract beauty of form is inevitable, 
 but humanity as it grows older instinctively feels that the 
 adoration of mere beauty is sometimes childish and sometimes 
 thoroughly unwholesome ; and then men are liable to doubt 
 whether human energies are not sapped by art instead of 
 being fostered by it. After a period in which men have gone 
 through experiences such as these, a condition of art naturally 
 follows in which the worshippers of abstract beauty and the 
 worshippers of expression both find satisfaction ; but inas- 
 much as the momentum generated is in a direction away 
 from things purely artistic, a period is liable to follow in 
 which 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 
 beconn 8 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 kind ; and even the pictures which aim at 
 Bpecial artistic value, and are exhibited in important galleries, 
 are of infinite variety of range in subject, and endeavour to 
 realise within the conditions of artistic presentation almost 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 275 
 
 any subject which has impressed an artist as worthy of per- 
 manent 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 and necessary 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 con- 
 spicuously characteristic of the present age than the immense 
 increase of short illustrative stories which make vividly alive 
 for all men the varieties of human circumstances and dis- 
 positions, from the remotest districts of India and the steppes 
 of Russia, 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 subjects, 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 characteristic 
 feature which illustrates this 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 unslassical procedure. Mozart was his 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 consistently. The well-known " Weihe 
 der Tone" is a case in point. He meant originally to set a 
 poem of that title by Pfeiiler as a cantata, but finding it uc 
 suitable he wrote the symphony as an illustration of the poem, 
 
27^ THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 and directed that the poem was to be read whenever the 
 symphony was performed. Moreover, he endeavoured to 
 widen the scope and design of tins symphony to carry out 
 his scheme, with eminently unsatisfactory results, as far as all 
 the latter part of the work 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 repre- 
 sented 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 
 iu the early part, and apparently succumb to the power of the 
 worldly orchestra towards the end. Another symphony of 
 Spohi-'s is called "The Seasons," which is a very favourite 
 subject, and also a very suitable one, for true musical treat- 
 ment. Weber was naturally on the same side, both on ac- 
 count of his romantic disposition and the deficiencies of his 
 artistic education. His one successful instrumental work, 
 on a large scale, the Concertstuck 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 case 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 — Tli6 
 Reformation, the Italian, and the Scotch. Even the sym- 
 phony to the " Lobgesang " has a very definite and intelligible 
 relation to the cantata which follows; while as far as musical 
 characterisation is concerned, the overture and scherzo in the 
 "Midsummer's Night's Dream "music are among the vivid 
 things of modern times. 
 
 To all appearance the line which Berlioz took is even more 
 decisive. But important as it fe, the fact of his being a 
 Frenchman reduces its significance a little. The French hav6 
 never shown any talent for self-dependent instrumental music 
 From the first their musical utterance required to be put in 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 277 
 
 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 Rameau followed in the 
 same line later. The kernel of the Gallic view of things is, 
 moreover, persistently theatrical, and all the music in which 
 they have been successful has had either direct or secondary 
 connection 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 con- 
 ceived 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 instru- 
 mental music could be expected ; and it is no wonder that 
 when he took to experimenting in that line of art he made it 
 even more theatrical than ordinary theatrical music; because 
 he had to supply the effect of the stage and the footlights and 
 all the machinery, as well as the evolutions and gesticulations 
 of the performers, by 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 fit histrionio 
 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 eye of the imagination. But 
 though it makes a great noise, and works on the raw impres- 
 sionable side of human creatures, and excites them to an 
 abnormal degree, the effect his music produces is not really 
 so imposing as that of things which make much less show — 
 for instance, the opening of Beethoven's Bt^ Symphony, which 
 requires only seven different instruments to play it, and if 
 
278 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 all pianissimo. The means are in excess of the requirements j 
 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 in- 
 strumental works. He was a man of unusually excitable 
 sensibility, and the tone of instruments appealed to him more 
 than any other feature in music. He was also a man of 
 literary tastes, and had no inconsiderable 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 predispositions was to impel him to 
 endeavour to express literary or theatrical ideas in terms 
 of colour and rhythm., J He was the first composer who 
 emphasised the element of instrumental tone quality or 
 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 original effects of colour, and afterwards 
 evolved or worked up -musical ideas to fit into them, just 
 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 "Faust" 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 compli- 
 cated 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 contrivances 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 279 
 
 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 illustra- 
 tion 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 department 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 such 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 commonplace harmonisation in place of the old 
 polyphonic choral music, affected oratorio almost fatally. For 
 though oratorio 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 interesting 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 oratorios quite so much as operas for 
 19 
 
28o THE ART OP MUSIC 
 
 fashionable gatherings and gossip ; and if the music was 
 tiresome they were bound to become aware of it. Hence 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 listen to things in the lofty style of Bach's Passions, and 
 bo 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 
 as a sop to the public, and the conventional stiffness of that 
 form ultimately 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 orchestra- 
 tion had been substantially founded upon definitely modern 
 lines, that a revival became possible. Quite at the end of 
 the eighteenth century the appearance of Haydn's " Creation " 
 serves as a sort of landmark 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 conventional airs, which distinguishes them from the 
 ordinary types, and gives them a characteristic ring which 
 the world was not slow to recognise. Moreover, his ex- 
 perience 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 
 strongly apparent in Beethoven's " Engedi," but the dramatic 
 character and picturesqueness of some of the c'otails 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 Roman 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 28 I 
 
 Church, and learned to see things in the same sort of light 
 as J. S. Bach. His treatment of the choral portions of his 
 oratorios 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 with his subjects char- 
 acteristically and consistently ; while his very exceptional 
 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 in- 
 strumental 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 Mendelssohn 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 
 waa 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 hie scheme proved so generally successful that it 
 has served most composers as a model ever since the appear- 
 ance 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 waa one of the few composers to 
 whom, in his best moments, all the resources of art were 
 equally available. His choral writing was on the whole the 
 most praf'acal and most fluent 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 
 
282 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 sufficiently forcible; and his facility in melody quite un. 
 limited. He applied his resources almost to the highest 
 degree of which he was capable in this line of art, and it 
 naturally followed that his solution 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 con- 
 sider shortly what are the conditions which govern the style 
 and scheme of oratorio. The essence of the situation is the 
 intention to present a dramatic story in a musical setting with- 
 out 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 minutiae than opera. 
 In opera slovenly workmanship has generally 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 resented. And 
 moreover, the conditions are more favourable for careful and 
 scrupulous artistic work. The absence of action reduces the 
 stringency of the need 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 beau- 
 tiful they may be in detail ; but in oratorio it is a distinct 
 advantage to have breaks that rest the mind and even to em- 
 phasise points in the movements themselves by occasional and 
 discreet repetition. So that it is not only necessary to make 
 design clear and artistic workmanship thorough, but the situa- 
 tion 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 positively vulgar music is sometimes defensible in con- 
 nection with the stage when a character is presented in tha 
 drama who would not be completely represented in the musi« 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 283 
 
 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 every- 
 thing that is not in a high sense dignified and elevated. But 
 as a compensation 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 the 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 but a very perfunctory share. 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 consisting of mere successions of 
 chords, with a great deal of dull note-repetition to fit the 
 syllables, and no individuality in the parts at all — such as 
 the passage " Jam plebis devote canentis una est vox, exaudi 
 precantes exaudi," &c, in Mozart's " Splendente te." The 
 comprehensive change of the whole aspect of the chorus is 
 one of the most significant features of modern art ; and 
 Dothing emphasises more signally the change from the formal 
 to the spiritual. Composers did not always take a perfunc- 
 tory view of the possibilities of chorus in the formal a. 
 Mozart's splendid conception of "Rex tremendffl majestati> " 
 
 • It is perhaps worth while to remark in passing that the element ol 
 the ohoras haa always thriven best in societies and branches of soci<ty 
 with very strong democratic energies ; while music of the soloists is th» 
 delight of the courtly, fashionable, and plutocratic branches of society. 
 
284 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 bo- 
 comes 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 suggested 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 oratorios 
 the choruses of angels and of devils sing passages which ex- 
 press the characteristic impulses of angelic and diabolic natures 
 to a nicety. This recognition of the personal nature of the 
 singers in a chorus was prefigured very strongly in Bach's 
 choral works, and also frequently in Handel's; but the de- 
 velopment of orchestral music and of the resources of general 
 dramatic effect have so enhanced the opportunities of com- 
 posers that the chorus tends more and more to be the centre 
 of interest in such works — and as choral singing is the de- 
 partment 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 democratic 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 conditions of presentation, tend to become even 
 more important 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 characteristic 
 terms, of great reflective and dramatic poems and odes by 
 genuine poets; and for such purposes the chorus is ideally 
 suited. The declamatory method of treating the voices which 
 is growing up and increasing makes every member of the 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 285 
 
 chorus take a share in the recital of the poem ; and the prac- 
 tice of choral singing may yet become a happier means for 
 the diffusion of real refinement of mind and character among 
 large sections of the people than the world lias hitherto ever 
 had the fortune to contrive. A composer who lias enough 
 cultivation and refinement of mind to appreciate 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 explanation. This is eminently a case 
 which illustrates the value of the rich accumulation of re- 
 sources 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 make the form intelligible was so limited, 
 that unless poems were constructed purposely to fit into con- 
 ventional 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 advantages com- 
 posers now enjoy are so copious that there is little excuse for 
 their adopting the feeble resource which once was so universal, 
 of repeating words and sentences without reference to their 
 importance ; for with increased range of means of expression 
 and design poems can perfectly well be presented in conformity 
 with the poet's intentions. 
 
 The same conditions which make possible the characteristic 
 treatment of poems on a grand scale of this kind, with all the 
 6plsndid resources of orchestration and choral effect, have 
 brought about the profuse cultivation and diffusion of the 
 typical modern song. In no branch of art is the tendency 
 towards expressive chanictt ris.ition more prominently dis- 
 played, for in the best modern "Songs" the music is brought 
 into relation to the poems set to an extent of closeness which 
 
286 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 was altogether unknown, and indeed would be 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 represent different moods unless the per- 
 former has great skill in putting extra expression into it which 
 is not necessarily in the music itself. 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 even 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 themselves. But 
 a composer cannot now be satisfied with such conditions, and 
 wants to put in for himself the expression which the words 
 convey to him ; and he prefers to have singers who can fall in 
 with his feeling and make their art serve to interpret what is in 
 itself worth expressing, instead of making what does not deserve 
 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 
 singable tune. When the poet, for expressive, or structural, or 
 rhythmic reasons, slightly altered the disposition of the accents, 
 the musician rode roughshod over the difficulty 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 im- 
 partiality. The composer's habits were similarly inconsiderate 
 with regard to changes in the mood of the words. Tbe re- 
 lation of the poem to the music was almost ignored, except in 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 287 
 
 a very general sense. This was especially the case in respect- 
 able 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 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 domination 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 kind of civilisation, and in quarters where democratic 
 conditions or national predispositions prevailed, the means for 
 adequately interpreting poems as solo songs improved. Com- 
 posers saw how to make the harmonisation of a tune alter its 
 character, and how to make their accompaniments character- 
 istic of the mood of the poem or of the situation it expressed, 
 instead of adopting purely mechanical formulas like an 
 Alberti bass for all sentiments alike. The excessive promi- 
 nence of the element of mere tune was thereby reduced ; while 
 the capacity of melody for expression was enhanced by the 
 circumstances with which it was surrounded. Then as har- 
 mony was more richly developed and tonality better under- 
 stood, 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 insufficiency of his muaictJ 
 education. His extraordinary ^'ifts and his passion for com- 
 posing 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 tht 
 profusion of his ideas was only limited by lack of time for writ- 
 ing them down. And these ideas were instinct with genuine 
 
288 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 individual life, not mechanical artificial products like opera 
 arias. They had a form and a character which meant some- 
 thing over and above mere adaptation to formulas of design. 
 In instrumental music he was liable to plunge recklessly, and to 
 let design take its chance. The thirst in him was for expres- 
 sion. 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 perception 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 impressions 
 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 
 1 8 14, and the Erl Konig in 18 15, within six years after the 
 death of Haydn, and even before Beethoven'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 remark- 
 able 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, M Wer reitet so 
 spat durch Nacht und Wind 1 " upon a 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 keys is made use of for purposes of expression. The ques- 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 289 
 
 tion 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, instead 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 signi- 
 ficance is much more the result of the accompaniment than of 
 the solo part itself. When a more definitely tuneful phrase 
 makes its appearance, it comes because it is so particularly suit- 
 able to the moment; as when the Erlking is made to whi 
 the child with promises of flowers and pretty games. The char- 
 acters of the several speakers are perfectly identifiable through- 
 out, notwithstanding the ceaseless rush and turmoil ; and the 
 changes of moods are perfectly conveyed without any break of 
 continuity. The musical portrayal gains in intensity as the 
 song proceeds, and is finally concentrated into the character- 
 istic 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 denouement. The rush and turmoil suddenly 
 cease, and the consummation of the tragedy is conveyed in the 
 mood of awe which is as near as possible to silenca And, just 
 as in the passage described on p. 266 from Beethoven's " Appes 
 sionata," 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 significant 
 instances of the relation between expression and design in 
 modern art, for in such cases it is the quickness of perception 
 generated by the exciting qualities of the music which enables 
 the mind to grasp a mere suggestion of an important factor 
 in the musical design, which is so slightly emphasised thai 
 a man in cold blood would probably feel it to be inadequately 
 presented. 
 
 The wonderful "Gretchen am Spinnrade" is dealt with in 
 precisely the same manner. It is unified by the tnggestion 
 of tho spinning-wheel in the accompaniment, while the 
 feet management of the harmonic scheme of the music gives 
 perfect freedom to the treatment of the words. How vivid 
 
290 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 such a situation can be made in musical terms may be illus- 
 trated from the treatment of the words " TJnd ach, sein Kuss ! " 
 
 r* r 
 
 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 re- 
 source is thus made use of to emphasise the expression. And 
 so it is with numbers of other songs of Schubert's which will 
 bear the closest analysis ; especially when the poems happen 
 to be fine enough to inspire fine music and close and con 
 sistent treatment 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 2$ I 
 
 In the gigantic mass of Schubert's songs there is necessarily 
 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; as far as design was con- 
 cerned 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 wbich 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, whenever 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 for the musical material he gave to his 
 accompaniment. 
 
 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 successions of figures which are very definite 
 and decisive in themselves. The articulation is sometimes 
 almost as clear as in Beethoven's subjects. Mozart, and the 
 Italians among whom he represents the highest type, usually 
 made long meandering passages of melody with no very 
 definite articulation. The true Teuton aiming at concentra- 
 tion 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 specially characteristic of instrumental 
 music, because in that branch of art the rhythm helps the 
 
29 2 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 concentration and definition ; and the use of such character- 
 istic figures in the instrumental part of songs is a very con* 
 spicuous 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. 
 
 s The development of song art after Schubert's time is mainly 
 notable in respect of the application of new resources as they 
 came into being, and the special attitude 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 inwards 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 sensibility in 
 Schumann, but less of the gift of portrayal. Schumann ex- 
 celled in the things that are direct utterances of inner feeling. 
 Many phases of the impulses of love find most vivid expression 
 with him, which Schubert could not have touched. "Du 
 rueine Seele," "Ich grolle nicht," are moods which are emi- 
 nently characteristic of a later phase of human musical sensi- 
 bility 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 higher type of song-writing. Numbers of other 
 successful song-writers there are — and some honourably un- 
 successful ones — who fully understand what an opportunity 
 the association of a solo voice with an instrumental accom- 
 paniment 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 in- 
 terest to the product, if the product is a sincere and genuine 
 musical utterance; but the methods upon which the finest 
 
 * songs are constructed remain as they were with Schubert and 
 Schi 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 293 
 
 The advantage of the song branch of art is that the expres 
 sive resources of music are applied for purposes which the 
 words make plain. Where the words are thoroughly musical, 
 and the composer particularly sensitive and skilful, the music 
 fits the lyric at every instant, 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 
 pianoforte 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 recognised by all the world 
 as laughable. Unconsciously the development of the musical 
 world's sense of criticism 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 
 outward semblance of anything, but to express the moods 
 which it produces, and the workings of the mind that are 
 associated with them. When Beethoven called a movement 
 " Am Bach," he justifiably used a suggestion of the 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 atmosphere or medium 
 in which the expressive material is embodied. The little dis- 
 jointed 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 : — 
 
 In such a movement, indeed, Beethoven's power of giving 
 utterance to human feeling seems even to be intensified by asso- 
 ciating it with realistic device. And it may at once be granted 
 that a little of such realism is sometimes at least a help to the 
 
294 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 composer, for it keeps his moods in tune ; but it is also a dan. 
 gerous weapon to handle, and every one is conscious in a 
 moment if the subordinate relation of realistic to inward pre- 
 sentation 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 com- 
 prehensive variety of fine and noble music ; 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. The 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 and cantabile. The pianoforte, 
 while lacking certain beauties which both the earlier instru- 
 ments possessed, is infinitely more efficient for every kind of 
 characterisation. It combines common sense with a very 
 fair 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, 
 polyphony, 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 cele- 
 brated performers. It is rather its position as the chosen 
 instrument of intimate home life which has induced com- 
 posers to write so much for it ; and the consciousness that ita 
 real function is to deal with things intimately has had con- 
 siderable influence upon the style of music written for it, 
 especially in the earlier stages of pianoforte music. The inti- 
 mate music of home life is that which people like to hava 
 always with them. It is the music that they like to dwell 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 295 
 
 upon, and to hear again and again both as the true presenta- 
 tion of human feeling, and as finished and refined art. The 
 purest conceivable ideal of Mich intimate music is to be found 
 in Bach's " Wohltemperirte Clavier." But that lucks the 
 modern sensibility, the modern luxury of tune, and the phases 
 which represent those developments <>f harmonic design and 
 colour which have become part of modern musical life. Later 
 composers have aimed at supplying a * 1 1 varieties of tastes with 
 pianoforte music which is for home consumption; and inas- 
 much as this implies dealing with characteristics at close 
 quarters, and addressing themselves to an infinite variety of 
 small groups of individuals, the circumstances have produced 
 a wider range of characteristics 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. 
 And this happily illustrates the process of constant differen- 
 tiation which is characteristic of evolution ; for indeed the 
 growth of diversity of character in such tilings has become 
 so extensive that 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 circum- 
 stances. In Beethoven's work the world felt that the high 
 water mark of well-balanced art and expression in sonata form 
 had been reached. Certain expansions of it were, no doubt, 
 possible; and in such branches as quartetts, trios, and other 
 forms of pianoforte chamber music which are cast in "sonata 
 forms," there still is vitality. But in essentially pianoforte 
 music it was not worth while to do again what had been 
 as well as seems humanly possible. Moreover, oomposeri have 
 become conscious that the sonata form is spread rather wide, 
 and is best suited for rather special 1 and further, 
 
 that it is not quite perfectly suited to many modern tyj 
 thought which are quite fit to be treated musically, though 
 not at such great length. And so there has grown up a common 
 20 
 
296 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 consensus of opinion to explore new possibilities of design 
 and expression. And here men of various types have neces- 
 sarily 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 inge- 
 nuity, and some in display. All types found their exponents. 
 Schubert left many beautiful little movements in very character- 
 istic style ; Field made an important mark with his nocturnes ; 
 even studies were made to have a poetical aspect in the hands 
 of J. B. Cramer ; while Mendelssohn came very prominently 
 before the world in a similarly independent line with his 
 " Lieder ohne Worte," which rightly took a very comprehen- 
 sive hold upon the artistic public through their thoroughly 
 refined character and the finished qualities of their art. It is 
 patent to all the world that even these last are totally different 
 in form as well as expression from sonatas. Their title admir- 
 ably expresses them, and the more so if it be remembered that 
 " Song " has come to mean something quite different from 
 the old conception ; and implies a work of art in which all 
 the factors — melody, harmony, figure, rhythm — are combined 
 to the common end. Under such conditions, when the name 
 " Song " had become almost inappropriate, a " Song without 
 words " is not such an anomaly as it would have been in 
 less developed stages of art. Mendelssohn, 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 be 
 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 unduly 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. Tha 
 
MODERN TKNDRNCIE8 297 
 
 aspiring innovators recognised the expressive possibilities of 
 music to the fullest possible extent, and their efforts might have 
 «ome 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 conventions of 
 the theorists. And this rendered the failure 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 risa 
 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 oppor- 
 tunities for showing off such futile dexterities. It so happens 
 that their root theory of working up figures and fragments 
 of tune into programme movements adapts itself well to the 
 requirements of display. It is only people of inferior organisa- 
 tion 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 com- 
 poser 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 ornamental 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 re- 
 sources of effect which thereby became available for better 
 composers to use. In that sense the development of technique, 
 
298 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 from the actual 
 quality of his musical effusions. He, indeed, summed up a 
 great period of brilliant 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 overburdened than 
 benefited by it. 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 energy 
 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 circumstances 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 neigh- 
 bours has intensified nationalist feeling. Such feeling, when 
 repressed, generally bursts into song, and very often into very 
 expressive 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 
 fervour. 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 feeling, and these 
 things Chopin was eminently fitted to supply. On the other 
 hand, his sensitiveness was acute even to morbidity; and being 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 299 
 
 less gifted with force and energy than with excitability, he 
 applied himself instinctively 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 most graceful and finished ornamentation, 
 such as is mo6t peculiarly suited to the genius of the instru- 
 ment. Beethoven had grown more and more conscious of the 
 suitableness of very rapid notes to the pianoforte as his experi- 
 ence and understanding of the instrument increased, and he 
 had tried (in a different manner from Chopin) to achieve the 
 same ends. But the reserve and grandeur of his style did not 
 admit of the sort of ornaments 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 pas 
 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 re- 
 fined and prosperous people. But there is enough of genuine 
 humanity and dramatic feeling to make his works appeal to 
 a larger public than mere frequenters of drawing-rooms. 
 There are even passages of savagery, such as those in the 
 polonaises in A^ and F£ minor, which sound like some echo 
 from a distant country, and ring of the proud fervour of patriotic 
 enthusiasm. The "Ballades" and so-called Sonatas and Scherzos 
 convey a rich variety of moods and effects on a considerable 
 scale, while the nocturnes, and some of the preludes and 
 mazurkas, exactly hit the sensuous perceptions which are 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 
 
300 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 most capacities he understood more thoroughly than any ona 
 else in the world. Design of a classical kind was compara- 
 tively unimportant to him. He did not know much about it. 
 But he most frequently cast his thoughts in simple forme, 
 such as that of the nocturne — which Field had brought suc- 
 cessfully into vogue just before his time — or the ordinary 
 forms of the dance. When he struck out a form for him- 
 self, as in some of the best preludes and studies, it was like 
 a poem on new lines. But the methods by which they were 
 unified were much the same as those employed by J. S. Bach 
 in his Preludes. 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 a 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 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 any- 
 thing like the elastic, nervous intensity with which it excited 
 a Pole, but rather with the solemnity and orderliness of a 
 German waltz. His natural sphere 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 culti- 
 vated intellectualist. As it was not intended to make music 
 his life's occupation, his education in his art was not as com* 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 301 
 
 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 literature, 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, though brilliant in effect, is rather weak 
 in design ; while the sonata in Fit minor is a deliberate attempt 
 to distribute the ideas in a manner totally different from the 
 old sonata order. In forms which afforded some fresh oppor- 
 tunities for treatment and effect, as in the quintett and quar- 
 tett 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," "Traumes- 
 wirren," "Grillen"; the numbers of Carnival figures, the 
 beautifully finished 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 pur- 
 pose, as in the Kreisleriana and the Davids- biindler. More- 
 over, 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, and 
 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 
 different in character and principle of design. In most of 
 these works his idea seems to be to give the full sense of de- 
 sign 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, or by 
 making some characteristic musical figure into a sort of text 
 which pervades the tissue of the whole. The experiments 
 art so far novel that it is almost too much to expect of them 
 
302 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 to be always entirely successful. But at least in the last 
 movement of the fantasia, the novel 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 to 
 use all the pedal that was possible, and had but little objection to 
 hearing all the notes of the scale sounding 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 cross- 
 ing 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, serves admirably to 
 express the complicated nature of the feelings and sensibilities 
 and thoughts of highly-organised beings in modern times. 
 Chopin's style has coloured almost all pianoforte music since 
 his time, in respect of the manner and treatment of the in- 
 strument ; and many successful composers are content merely 
 to reproduce his individualities in a diluted form. But Schu- 
 mann 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 culti- 
 vated and poetic natures than to simple unsophisticated dis- 
 positions. That is one of the necessities of differentiation ; 
 and music which is concentrated in some especial direction 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 be- 
 tween the two. People who love much imagery and luxury of 
 sensation do not want to listen to Cherubini's best counter- 
 point, and those who only love energy and vital force do not 
 want to listen to the love scenes in the Walkiire. But ai 
 illustrating the profusion of sensations, the poetic sensibility, 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 303 
 
 and even the luxury and intellectuality, the passion and the 
 eagerness 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 Jo- 
 hannes 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 utmost More- 
 over, he taxes the power of the interpreter also ; which is a 
 thing a great many 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 independence of design, he 
 has produced many works that are decidedly not on the line 
 of sonatas — such as his Rhapsodies and Clavier-Stiicke and 
 Intermezzi ; all instinct with the definiteness and decisive- 
 ness of individuality which mark him as an outlying repre- 
 sentative of the great family of Teutonic musical giants. 
 
 The aspect of pianoforte music in general seems to indicate 
 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 or moods which are expressed in 
 them. The resources of harmonic and polyphonic effect, com- 
 bined 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 im- 
 port 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 
 neld of characteristic musical expression is certainly not ex- 
 hausted ; and composers who have any gift for devising con- 
 sisifcot and compact forms which are perfectly adapted to th« 
 
304 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 mood of their ideas, have still room to achieve something ne\* 
 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 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 admi- 
 rable, 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 condition 
 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 still as closely differen- 
 tiated from the style of all other branches of art as ever. A 
 touch of the operatic manner instantly betrays itself as in- 
 consistent, and so do the devices of symphonic orchestraticn. 
 Even the national tunes, and the original subjects which belong 
 to that type, which are such a welcome and characteristic 
 feature in Dvorak's works of this order, are so transformed 
 and translated by the subtle genius of the composer into terms 
 which are apt to the style of this highly specialised branch of 
 art, that the remoteness and diversity of the branch of art from 
 which they spring is almost forgotten. In other lines the same 
 
MODERN TENDENCIES 305 
 
 law holds good. The features of brilliant and vivacious fanei 
 which adorn the orchestral works of the Bohemian master — 
 probably the greatest living master of orchestral effi 
 like manner translated into the terms suited to the particular 
 branch of art he is dealing with. And even the wil.l axperi 
 ments of younger aspirants after a poetical reputation and 
 picturesquely astonishing novelty unconsciously fall into line 
 with the limitations of style and diction which are charac- 
 teristic of their branch of musical utterance. 
 
 Thus there is an average mood aud style of idea which 
 composers have instinctively adopted for each branch of art, 
 so that the examples of different orders are distinct not only 
 in technical details but in spirit. And moreover, 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 in respect 
 of subject-matter is noticeable. For the aim in his works on 
 the grandest scale is but rarely after what, is equivalent to 
 external beauty in music. What beauty is aimed at La ■ 
 of thought, the beauty of nobleness, aud high musical intelli- 
 gence. 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 
 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 intrinsically good. 
 If the music is good they have to be forced to accept it by 
 various forms of persuasion j and a composer 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 deter- 
 mination 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'** oppor- 
 tunities of emancipating himself from convention, *n<* of 
 solving the problems he sees to be worth solving, ar*» nrnch 
 better in one country than another. It is conspicuously Wue 
 in operatic matters that the public decide what they will h»ve, 
 
MODERN PHASES OP OPERA 307 
 
 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 anv 
 nation in Europe. In painting they occupy almost the whole 
 field of the greatest and most perfect art; especially of the 
 art produced 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 
 way in 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 
 polished 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 eager- 
 ness for applause, into the obvious, catchy opera tunes which 
 are the most familiar features of the works of the early 
 
308 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 part of this century. The good artistic work which used 
 to be put into the accompaniment, and was often written 
 in a contrapuntal form by the composers of the best time, 
 degenerated into worthless jigging formulas, like the accom- 
 paniments to dance tunes, which have neither artistic purpose 
 nor characteristic relevancy 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 
 Rossinian crescendo (which is like a dance of dervishes all 
 about nothing), produce physical excitement without any 
 simultaneous exaltation of higher faculties. These and many 
 more features of the same calibre are the fruits of the exces- 
 sive eagerness in the composer for immediate sympathetic 
 response from his audience. He has no power to be self- 
 dependent, or to take his own view of what is worthy of 
 art or what is not, or of what represents his own identity. 
 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 obtaining; and the 
 objects of Italian opera composers have been abundantly 
 achieved. The furore of Italian operatic triumphs, such 
 as the Rossini fever after Tancredi, surpasses anything re- 
 corded 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 was till recently 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 was made backwards. 
 
 The Italians emphasised the musical means of appealing 
 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 Roland, Armide, Phaeton, 
 and the other subjects Lulli used are somewhat formal in their 
 method of presentation, they are made quite intelligible, and 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA 309 
 
 the sitoations are often very good, and very well treated. In 
 that sense, indeed, Lulli's work is more genuine than Sc&rlattft, 
 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. Clink'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 6omewhat owing to Parisian influence. Personally he 
 appeared to be endowed with all the pride, reserve, and 
 narrowness of a pedant, yet his Overture to Anacreon is as 
 genial as the ancient poet himself may be assumed to have 
 been, and expresses all the fragrance and sparkle of the wine 
 of which he sang with such enthusiasm. He was cold and 
 hard and devoid of sympathetic human nature, but never- 
 theless 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 what- 
 ever 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 influ- 
 ence 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 ex- 
 pressed, and the general feeling of the whole is more sine re 
 and rich in feeling. 
 
 In light comic operettas and operatic comedies the acute 
 sympathy of the French with the stage produced the happiest 
 results of alL In this line the French took their cue from the 
 
310 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 Italian opera buffa, which had been introduced a little before 
 Gluck'8 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 Tchich the 
 French cultivate with so much interest and care — all told to 
 make the product peculiarly happy. A special style was de- 
 veloped, which in the hands of many composers was singularly 
 refined, neat, and perfectly artistic. The music is merry, and 
 attains the true comedy vein without descending to buffoonery ; 
 carelessly gay, 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 Gre"try, it 
 cannot be pretended that he attempted to deal with the inner 
 and less obvious phases of his work with any artistic complete- 
 ness. 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 con- 
 scious artistic contrivance into light subjects. But the perfect 
 mastery of artistic resource does not obtrude its artistic con- 
 trivances. It uses them so well that they are perfectly 
 merged in the general effect. 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 Bizet and 
 Gounod, and other still living representatives of this branch 
 of art, use the resources of their orchestra with most consum- 
 mate skill at the lightest moments ; just hitting the balance 
 of art and gaiety to a nicety ; while the rounding and articu- 
 lation of their phraseology, the variety and clearness of their 
 ideas, and the excellence of their design, up to the point re- 
 quired in such work, is truly admirable. In no other branch 
 of music Lb the French genius so completely at home and 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA 3 I I 
 
 happy. Even in the coarser types of the same family ol 
 operetta, which have become rather popular in recent times, 
 the composers who set the licentious and unwholesomely sug- 
 gestive dialogue at least caught something of the spirit of their 
 more refined brethren, and showed a skill of instrumental re- 
 source 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 
 demand, French effort, even in the more serious branch of 
 opera, produces eminently sincere and artistic results. But 
 in the more serious subjects it has been generally happiest in 
 very reserved phases like those illustrated by Cherubini and 
 M6hul. 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 imposing 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 enthu- 
 siasm for musical drama does not come nearer to 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 persisted so long that they were even noticed by 
 the conquering 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, however, French 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 =vrote. 
 The scores are marked almost as fully and carefully as Wag 
 ner's, and the inner and outer phrases are thoroughly articu 
 21 
 
312 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 late, and well suited to the instruments used. He wielded all 
 his resources with power and skill — chorus, soloists, and 
 orchestra alike. He saw his dramatic points clearly, and 
 often rose to a degree of real warmth and nobility of expres- 
 sion. But with all these excellences his tendency to the 
 pomp and circumstance of display is unmistakable. The situa- 
 tions are often really fine, but many of them are rather 
 weakened by being overdone. The coruscations of the long 
 ballets, the processions, 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 ele- 
 ment 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 develop- 
 ment 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 con- 
 ceived 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 in- 
 spected 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. H« 
 is said to have studied things French 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. At long intervals he fol- 
 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA 3 I 3 
 
 lowed it up with further experiments — " 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 pain- 
 fully anxious that his effects should tell, that his existence at 
 the time when any new work was in preparation for perform- 
 ance 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 common- 
 place or not. His scores look elaborate and full of work, but 
 the details are the commonest arpeggios, familiar and hack- 
 neyed types of figurei of accompaniment, scales, and obvious 
 rhythms. Musically it is a huge pile of commonplaces, infi- 
 nitely ingenious, and barren. There is but little cohesion 
 between the scenes, and no attempt at consistency to the situa- 
 tions 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 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 astonishing and bewildering is almost unlimited. His 
 
3 1 4 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 cleverness is equal to any emergency. For instance, when 
 a situation 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 contrived and eminently 
 effective from the baldest theatrical point of view. But for 
 continuity, development, real feeling, 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 and hearing 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 of these the types of 
 expression 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 cheap accompaniment, the laxness 
 in the treatment of inner minutiae, the set forms of arias, and 
 the detachable items that only hang together and are not 
 intrinsically continuous, and many other features of conven- 
 tion and habit, prevent their being acceptable as completely 
 satisfactory types of musical drama from the highest stand- 
 point. 
 
 Germans were much slower than other nations in finding 
 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 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OrERA 3 I 5 
 
 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 Zauberflote. 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 develop 
 ment 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 methods of thought and utterance. 
 But for the more truly emotional 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. Moreover, 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 essentially a German subject, and traces 
 of old Italian influence through Mozart are still appa- 
 rent. It was reserved for a man of far less personality to 
 satisfy the aspirations of the race 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 Napo- 
 leon's failure in the expedition to Moscow. Ti.en, in common 
 with many patriotic enthusiasts, the hope for independence 
 inspired him, and he became the mouthpiece of national 
 
3l6 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 feeling in his superb settings of patriotic songs by Kbrner. 
 These gave him a position which was emphasised by his being 
 appointed successively at Prague and Dresden to organise a 
 genuine German operatic establishment. Dresden had long 
 been under the domination of the Italians, headed by the 
 conductor Morlacchi, and the constant plotting and opposition 
 which went on even after Weber's 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 182 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 
 iD every respect gives it a great prominence in the history 
 of the art The style is consistently German almost through- 
 out; 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 charac- 
 ters. Apart from that, the musical material and the actual 
 workmanship are Teutonically admirable. Weber's sense 
 of instrumental effect was always very great, but in this 
 work he rose to a higher point than usual. The tones and 
 characteristics of the various instruments are used with 
 unerring certainty to strengthen the emotional impression. 
 The score is alive in all its parts, not full of dummy for- 
 mulas and fragments of scales and arpeggios that have 
 no relation to the situation. 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 Aennchen, 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. 
 
MODERN PHASKS OF OPERA 3 I 7 
 
 In Freischutz the German tradition of spoken dialogue is 
 still maintained ; the music being reserved for the intenser 
 moments. In Euryanthe, Weber set the whole of the dia- 
 logue, 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 German 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 super- 
 natural, which is probably to be explained by the instinct of 
 a composer for finding things out of the hackneyed range of 
 common everyday experienca For light and comic music the 
 familiar dress of everyday life answers perfectly well. It may 
 even accentuate the funniness of things. But when there are 
 highly emotional, serious, heartfelt things to be dealt with, 
 the association of the familiarities of everyday life with dia- 
 logue passionately sung, becomes too conspicuously anomalous. 
 Thoughts that have any genuine greatness about them do not 
 fit 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 pre- 
 vent 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 complete 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 art. Wagner fitly characterised him as most Ger- 
 man of the Germans; and he himself was not a little indebted 
 to him for mastering one of the last points of vantage neces- 
 sary for the full attainment of the ideal of pure dramatic 
 music. 
 
 Weher'ft stjle powerfully influenced hie successors, even in 
 
3 1 8 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 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 operas 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 en- 
 tirely relaxed, but it was concentrated in the person of Meyer- 
 beer, who was busy writing French grand operas, and was best 
 fitted for that occupation. Wagner, though born in "Weber's 
 lifetime, did not begin 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 con- 
 stant 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 im- 
 pulse in him was mainly dramatic, and only experience could 
 reveal to him what line and style of composition would serve 
 best for his purposes. His musical education was extremely 
 defective, and his first experiments in opera contained things 
 that were at once feeble and feebly expressed. 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 "Rienzi" 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 was a failure. His importunities 
 were in vain, and after many weary months he returned to 
 Germany. But meanwhile he had been busy with a new work, 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA 3 19 
 
 "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 spontaneous musical gift was comparatively small ; 
 but the intensity of his dramatic and poetic feeling produced 
 musical figures and musical moods in his mind which he found 
 out by degrees how to express in more and more powerful 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 scenes and passages in which 
 the music rises to an extraordinary pitch of vivid picturesqur- 
 ness 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 situation 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. " Rienzi " looks back to. the past of Meyer- 
 beer, and is comparatively worthless ; " Der fliegende Hol- 
 lander " looks forward along the way in which Wagner is 
 beginning to travel, and already embodies traits of molody 
 and characteristic devices of modulation 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 fur musical treatment, he soon 
 naw the further advantage of using stories which were essen- 
 tially Teutonic in their source and interest. He wisely chose 
 Fuch as symbolised a great deal more than the mere stories 
 convey, and so have a deeper root in human nature and a 
 wider 6cope than mere typical stage dramas. The story of 
 Tannhauser and the hill of VenuB, and of Lohengrin ths 
 
320 THE ART OP MUSIO 
 
 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 predecessor, but there are fewer crudities and 
 formalities in it, and fewer traces of an unwholesome influ- 
 ence which made some parts of Tannhauser run very near to 
 vulgarity — splendid as the whole work is. A long time inter- 
 vened between the production of 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 by their 
 ends, the musical isolation of scene from scene, the discon- 
 nection of the overture from the opening 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 tra- 
 ditions. In Tannhauser and Lohengrin he made the musical 
 texture of the scenes much more continuous, but the long 
 operatic tunes still make their appearance together with many 
 other familiar signs of the old genealogy. The use of the 
 same characteristic 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 probable 
 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 Lohengrin or Elsa came promi- 
 nently forward, it was natural to repeat a figure which best 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA 32 1 
 
 expressed their character. It conduced to unity as well aa 
 to characterisation. 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 Nibelungen." 
 
 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 his minor; and 
 apart from style and materials, the changes are the same 
 in principle. In the Symphony in D No. 2, the mannei 
 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 express 
 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 notes are r^, £_ 
 
 quite enough 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 rudimentary organs, that 
 have not perfectly merged into the rest of the organism. But 
 the first dozen bars of Rheingold give indication of quite a 
 different spirit. His 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 supplies a principle of design without haviug 
 to fall back on familiar formulas to make that design appre- 
 ciable. The dramatic conception is formed first, and is then 
 expressed in terms of art which follow every phase and change 
 of mood without having to stop to make the music intelligible 
 apart from the drama. The principle of treatment is the same 
 
322 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 as in Schubert's great songs, the " Junge Nonne," or " Doppel- 
 ganger," or the " Erl Kbnig"; 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 j 
 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 cer- 
 tainty. While writing the poems be 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 development of his 
 stories so as to admit of due spreading of groundwork and 
 of variety of mood ; and devised situations 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 developing and changing of moods adapted for good 
 music. They both spring from the same emotional source, 
 only they are different ways of expressing the ideas. As 
 poetry and music approach nearer to one another, it be- 
 comes 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 very 
 commencement of " The Ring" is the difference in the treat- 
 ment of the musical material from the earlier works. As has 
 been pointed out before, there is a constant tendency in music 
 to make the details more distinct and de6nite. The instinc- 
 tive 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 treatment of orchestral materia] 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA 323 
 
 and Mozart'*. The very look of the score of Idomeneo in 
 busier than any earlier score ; and moreover, Mozart made 
 his own 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 nuclei which express in the 
 closest terms the spirit of the situation, and the way in which 
 he knits them together is a perfect counterpart, 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 advantage 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 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 dis- 
 pense 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 Bach. Wagner 
 often uses harmony as a special meaus of effect, but in a 
 great measure the harmony is the result of polyphony, 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 expressic n, as it is possible by making such familiar 
 devices as accented passing notes and grace notes occur simul- 
 taneously in different parts, to produce transient artificial 
 chords of the most extraordinary description; such a* are 
 
324 
 
 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 heard in the following passage from the first act of 
 Parsifal :— 
 
 Wagner notoriously rejected the conventional rules ot the 
 theorists about resolving chords and keeping strictly within 
 the lines of keys, and many other familiar phases of orthodox 
 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 re- 
 quired in sonatas and symphonies, because the situation did 
 not warrant it ; neither would he submit to the conven- 
 tions which forbade his using certain progressions which he 
 thought the situation required because they happen 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 violat- 
 ing 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 direction. 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 
 ■ense of solid foundation to a scene, he often keeps to the 
 same key. even to the same harmony, for a very long tima 
 
MODERN PHASES OP OPEBA 325 
 
 Fhe introductions to Rheingold 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 
 accompaniment of the ordinary dialogue he is often very 
 obscure in tonality, just as J. 8. Bach is in recitative ; some 
 instinct prompting them both to avoid the conditions which 
 make the music that approaches nearest to ordinary 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 takes advantage of the fact that human creatures 
 understand modern music through their feeling for tonality, 
 to obtain a weird and supernatural effect by making it 
 almost unrecognisable. For in that case he almost invariably 
 makes his musical idea combine chords which belong to two or 
 more unassimilable tonalities, 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 employment 
 of enharmonic transition did 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 Beethoven's 
 great Leonora Overture produces the same sort of feeling of 
 momentary dizziness, in relation to the simpler diatonic style 
 
326 THE ART OP MUSIC 
 
 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 after- 
 wards try to justify anything very much out of the common on 
 some broad principles in which they believe. It is much more 
 likely to have been the impulse of highly developed 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. 
 
 jo. (fed. 
 
 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 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA 327 
 
 The death-figure in Tristan is constructed on similar 
 principles, but curiously enough the figure used for the magio 
 love-potion, which pervades the whole musical material 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 interesting in respect of clear- 
 ness 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 (pp. 55 and 69), 
 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' Rhapsody, No. 2, where the device is carried to even 
 greater lengths in the matter of distantly related tonalities 
 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 introductions to Rheingold, Siegfried, 
 and Parsifal ; and in Parsifal, moreover, he uses precisely the 
 same device of sequence at the beginning, 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 opportu: 
 that it affords for the purposes of effect and design. 
 
 In the use of the effects of tone producible by various instru- 
 ments (which people for want of a better word seem to have 
 agreed to call colour) he is clearly the most comprehensive 
 
328 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 of masters. Instinctively he adopted the true view for his 
 particular work. In old days colours were disposed in rela- 
 tion to one another principally in order to look beautiful. 
 Some of the greatest early Italian painters 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 situa- 
 tions. Beethoven used colour to the extreme of conceivable 
 perfection ; and all to the ends of expression, as far as the 
 conditions of abstract self-dependent instrumental music ad- 
 mitted. 
 
 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 expres- 
 sion which is only half conveyed by the outline and rhythmic 
 movement of the musical ideas themselves. The great develop- 
 ment of instrumental resources gave him enormous advantages 
 over earlier composers. 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 better he used his colours with absolute apt- 
 ness 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 suggestive than the merry cackle of the 
 wood-wind in the music of the apprentices in " Die Meister- 
 singer," 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 Logo'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 situations brought out 
 the requisite skilL The art of combining many subjects to- 
 gether, of which theoretic composers make so much, is carried 
 by Wagner to a truly marvellous extent. The texture of the 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA 329 
 
 music is often made of nothing but a network of the various 
 melodies and figures which are called " Leit motive," each 
 associated with some definite idea in the drama. The extent 
 to which this subtle elaboration is carried on escapes the 
 hearer, because it is done so skilfully that it passes unper 
 ceived. 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 most of the dif- 
 ference between the earlier types of such departments of art, 
 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 minutia soon makes works on a large scale 
 insupportable. But Wagner's minutiae are not importunate, 
 because the effect in general is proportionately 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 tendencies 
 in the same way as every other part of his work. The tradi- 
 tions 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 subordinated 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 points in history. Purcell is often a pure 
 embodiment of ill-regulated instinct for expression. John 
 Sebastian Bach's recitatives and ariosoe are still stronger iu 
 
33° THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 that respect. 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 crea- 
 tures 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 declamation. He 
 appeals to intelligent human beings who want music to mean 
 something worthy of human intelligence ; 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 attitude of u 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 exaltation. That is to 
 say, the actor becomes specially prominent when the develop- 
 ment 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, and no doubt it is by far the most 
 interesting element ; but there is no need that the actor 
 should always be insisting upon his own importance, 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 
 
MODERN PHASES OF OPERA 33 I 
 
 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 education, but the 
 old-fashioned singer's education was limited chiefly to the 
 development of mechanical powers ; the singer of the genuine 
 music of Bach, Schubert, Schumann, Brahms, amd Wagner 
 requires the old-fashioned singer's education and 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 notions 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 minutiae up to the largest massing of combined powers 
 to the ends of perfect expression of his dramatic and poetic 
 conceptions. His personality, and the particular 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 elaborately organised system for the 
 purposes of dramatic musical expression that the world has 
 ever yet seen. 
 
 Of what has been done in the line of opera since Wagner's 
 death, it is not yet time to speak in detail. Some of the most 
 successful opera composers have been considerably influenced 
 by his personality, and a few have endeavoured to apply his 
 methods; but it can hardly be said as yet whether the results 
 make any fresh advance of artistic importance. A disposition 
 to compromise is obvious, and it may well be that a step back- 
 wards is necessary, as a preliminary to another Larger st 1 i<le for- 
 wards. But so far the number of new operas which have any 
 genuine pervading vitality may be counted on the fingers of one 
 hand, and from a few individual instances no one can gather 
 
332 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 substantial grounds for generalisation. The happiness of the 
 idea of adopting subjects which are raised above the common- 
 place, even in modern clothes, by embodying some deeply set 
 patriotic enthusiasm, may fairly be acknowledged ; and so may 
 the genuine success of the special class of comic and satirio 
 light operas which have been so much in vogue in England in 
 recent years. But the artistic methods adopted in such works 
 do not yet suggest new extension of principles, or attain- 
 ment of new points of vantage; and their consideration may 
 well be deferred till the field of vision becomes wider, and the 
 world has not to judge of the phenomena at close quarters 
 
SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION 
 
 The long story of the development of music is a continuous 
 and unbroken record of human effort to extend and enhance 
 the possibilities of effects of sound upon human sensibilities, 
 as representing in a formal or a direct manner the expression 
 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 considerable, men have generally concen- 
 trated 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 gene- 
 rally 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 it« 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 simultaneously 
 at different pitches. It took an immense time to produce a 
 satisfactory result in part singing ; but by degrees men found 
 out how to vary their bald successions of fifths and fourtha 
 by ornamental notes, and to make their various simultaneous 
 
334 THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 tunes move without too hideous a cacophony. They found out 
 how to systematise their experiments at least so far as to make 
 the closing points bear some relation to the beginnings, and to 
 contrive something which had the effect of a cadence. And 
 in the course of some centuries, without making the inner 
 organisation 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 Roman Church, and almost 
 all music was then written in the contrapuntal 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 treat- 
 ment 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 some- 
 thing like musical talking to do. It was like going back to 
 chaos at first ; but they had something 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 made up of 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 
 ecclesiastical music were not accommodating enough for the 
 successions of chords they wanted ; and under the influence of 
 their growing feeling for systematisation of these chords, they 
 modified these old modes till they had got the tones and semi- 
 tones in better order for harmonic purposes, and had added a 
 fair quantity of extra chromatic notes to give variety to their 
 progressions. Music began to expand 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 
 
SUMMARY AND <J<^X'LUSION 335 
 
 system, the second great crisis was achieved, which ia mainly 
 illustrated 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 dosigu, in 
 which melody and harmony were combined in new ways. 
 Their feeling for the relationships of harmony enabled them 
 to spread their bases of structure over wider areas, and to 
 obtain effects of contrast by making one long passage repre- 
 sent 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, enabled them to make use of other elements of 
 effect. The element of colour began to come in very notice- 
 ably, 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 dis- 
 tinct. 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 inde6nite 
 and conventional. 
 
 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 branching out right and 
 left ; the style of orchestral works such as symphonies 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 objecta 
 entailed different treatment ; and the subtleties of style had 
 their full meuaure of attention from men gifted at last with 
 a fine critical sense of relevancy and appropriateneaa. Again, 
 the internal organisation of worka began to be much more 
 definite and articulate. Ideas were put into compact and 
 
33$ THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 vivid forms, and the various inner and secondary parte 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 expression. 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 buffa, the seria, and various other national and distinc- 
 tive 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 con- 
 sistency. The principle of tonality was expanded to the 
 utmost limits of intelligibility both for design and effect ; and 
 with all the resources of harmony and polyphony for form 
 and direct expression; with melody — both inward and out- 
 ward — for general tone and all that corresponds to vocal 
 utterance, and with rhythm to convey the impression of 
 gesticulatory expression and colour to intensify meaning, 
 mankind seems finally to have full measure of almost un- 
 limited materials available to illustrate anything he will. 
 
 But the resources are so immense, that none but' composers 
 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 ovei- 
 whelming, and long for things a little less copious in detail 
 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 resources of art, that it need be bad. 
 The song from the music hall may be excellent and char- 
 acteristic, and often is ; the music of people who have every 
 opportunity to be refined and cultivated may be detestably 
 
SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION 337 
 
 bad, and often is. There is an infinite variety of moods which 
 admit of being expressed, from the noble, aspiring, human 
 sincerity of a gre;it nature like Brahms', to the rank, impu 
 false sentimentality of impostors who shall !><• The 
 
 unfortunate art may be made to grovel and wallow as well as 
 to soar. A man may use slender resources to virv good eni>, 
 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 its members can understand a little of what mask 
 means and how it came to be what it is, perhaps it may 
 tend to encourage sincerity in the composer, and to enable 
 themselves to arrive at an attitude which is not too open to 
 be imposed upon by those who have other ends in view than 
 honouring and enriching their art. 
 
 If the art is worthy of the dignity of human devotion, it is 
 worth considering a little seriously, without depreciating in 
 the least the lighter pleasures to which it may 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 only be a more plaything. 
 The marvellous concentration of faculties towards the achieve- 
 ment 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 prolonged, it may be widened and 
 deepened by what he puts into it ; and any possibility of 
 getting into touch with those highest moments in art in 
 which great ideals were realised, in which noble aspirations 
 and noble sentiments have been successfully embodied, is 
 a chance of enriching human experience in the n 
 manner: and through such sympathies and into 
 humanising influences which mankind will hereafter have at 
 its disposal may be infinitely enlarged. 
 
 Note to pp. 49 and 51. 
 
 The brilliant Idea of phonographinp the tunes of garage and semi- 
 civilised races seems to offer such opportonitiea of getting at the real 
 facts of primitive and barbarous n H before been avail- 
 
 able for the investigation of such subject.-.. It has been put into pr. 
 
33* THE ART OF MUSIC 
 
 by a Mr. J. W. Fewkes to record the tunes of the Zuni Indians of the 
 southern states of North America, and the results have been published 
 in the "Journal of American Ethnology and Archaeology," vol. i. 
 
 Several tunes are given, and some of them afford happy illustrations 
 of the uncertainty of savage intonation referred to on p. 49, and also of 
 the singularly unsystematic manner in which the savages reiterate the 
 characteristic intervals or musical figures which have taken their fancy. 
 
 The following is an approximate record of one of their curious tunes, 
 which is stated to have been considerably irregular in the details of 
 pitch and intonation : — 
 
 forte. 
 
 @ tjf c r nmn^ gn ^ 
 
 BB ^ ^M £J ZJ^ ^ 
 
 piano. ^ pp 
 
INDEX 
 
 Accidental*, 45, 112. 
 Accompaniment, 89, 127, 137, 140, 
 
 168, 196, 220, 222, 224, 287, 289, 
 
 290, 292, 323. 
 Ainu music, 50. 
 Alberti bass, 211, 287. 
 Alceste, 217, 219. 
 Allemande, 1S5, 200. 
 Arcadelt, 109, na 
 Aria, I44, 146, 214, 219, 231. 
 Arpeggio subjects and figures, 190, 
 
 238. 
 Arpeggio tunes, 70, 73, 74. 
 Artistic disposition, 2. 
 Auber, 310. 
 Australian native music, 49, 54. 
 
 Bach, John Christian, 205, 208, 
 
 242, 244. 
 Bach, John Sebastian, 45, 54, 119, 
 
 162, 176, el leg., 189, 197, 273, 
 
 276, 279, 281, 300, 335. 
 Bach, Philip Emmanuel, 192, 193, 
 
 209. 
 Bagpipe scale, 39. 
 Ballet, 139, 184, 219, 312. 
 Balletti, 1 1 3, 
 
 Bas Quercy, tune from, 65. 
 Beethoven, 252, et teq., 273, 293, 
 
 321, 325- 
 Herlioz, 276. 
 Boccherini, 245. 
 Brahms, 303, 305. 
 Buffa opera, 215, 237. 
 Byrd, 121, 155. 
 
 Oaooini, 127, 132. 
 Cadenoes, 99. 12a 
 
 Cadences, Church, 43. 
 
 of the voice, 18, 19. 
 
 Canons, 97, 122, 184. 
 
 Cantatas, 284. 
 
 Canto fermo, 89, 92, 98. 
 
 Canzonas, 1 13, 177, 
 
 Caribs, music of, 48. 
 
 Carissimi, 136. 
 
 Cavaliere, 133. 
 
 Cavalli, 135, 139. 
 
 C.-sti, 137. 
 
 Chamber music, 304. 
 
 Characterisation, 135, 149, 162, 16$ 
 
 219, 221, 275, 2y6, 303. 
 Cherubim, 309, 311. 
 Chinese scale, 21, 33, 34. 
 Chinese tune, 57. 
 Chopin, 241, 298. 
 Choral music, 80, 102, 106, 119, 
 
 163, 283. 
 Churcli modes, 41. 
 Classification of notes of the scale, 
 
 44- 
 Clavichord, 183. 
 Olementi, 256. 
 Concerto, 151, 152, 18& 
 Contrasts, IO, II, 13, 129, 153, 
 
 200, 236, 240, 26a 
 Oorelli, 151, 
 Obantarpoint, 89, 90, 101, 106, 177, 
 
 183, 195- 
 Ooupc-rin, 155, 184. 
 
 Dancb movement*, 1 1 5, 1 16, 1S4, 
 
 199, 247, 260. 
 Dance music, early, 116. 
 Dancing, and dance goaturaa, 6, 
 
 7.9- 
 
340 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Declamation, 127, 130, 139, 141, 
 
 284, 289, 330. 
 Design, 2, 3, 4, 12, 13, 48, 62, 70, 
 
 109, 113, 129, 131, 140, 146, 157, 
 
 175, 234. 249, 259, 262, 273, 289, 
 
 297, 324, 327, 330, 335. 
 Discord, 99, 119, 120, 134, 323. 
 Domestic life, music of, 116, 294. 
 Doric mode, 24, 41. 
 Dunstable, 105. 
 Dvorak, 304. 
 
 Ellis, 21. 
 
 English folk-music, 55, 74. 
 
 English music of Elizabethan period, 
 114, 121. 
 
 Equal temperament, 45, 187. 
 
 Erl Konig, 288. 
 
 European scale system, modern, 16, 
 18, 45, 187, 188. 
 
 Expression, 3, 7, 8, 9, 14, 48, 62, 
 72, 77, 83, 123, 129, 134, 136, 
 148, 149, 150, 160, 162, 165, 172, 
 173, 183, 185. 189, 219, 220, 252, 
 258, 260, 276, 284, 289, 293, 296, 
 303. 319. 3 2 8, 330. 336. Ac 
 
 Fantabia, 191, 301. 
 
 Feejee music, 53. 
 
 Field, 296. 
 
 Flying Dutchman, The, 319, 
 
 Folk-music, 47, 96. 
 
 Types of, 61. 
 
 Forty -eight, the, 186, 30a 
 
 Freischutz, Der, 316. 
 
 French characteristics in music, 138, 
 
 155, 218, 277, 308. 
 Frescobaldi, 1 19, 154, 179. 
 Fugue, 122, 153, l8o, 189. 
 
 Gabbtkli, Giovanni, 121. 
 Galician tune, 64. 
 Gaultier, Denis, 155. 
 Germau folk-music, 70, 72, 74. 
 
 Opera, 227, 230, 314. 
 
 Gibbon*, Orlando, 121, 155. 
 
 Gipsy music, 59. 
 
 Gluck, 216, 250, 306. 
 
 Gossec, 209. 
 
 Gounod, 314. 
 
 Greek scales, 22. 
 
 Gretchen am Spinnrade, 288, 289. 
 
 Gre*try, 310. 
 
 Ground bass, 54, 14a 
 
 Hale, Adam de la, 95. 
 Halevy, 312. 
 
 Handel, 162, 165, 168, 170, 185, 195. 
 Harmonic form, 199, 235. 
 Harmony, 43, 88, 108, HO, 134. 
 
 incipient, 82. 
 
 Harpsichord music, 117, 183, 202, 
 
 256. 
 Haydn, 241, 288. 
 Heptatonic scales, 21. 
 Histrionic music, 133, 139, 277, 311 
 Hobrecht, 121. 
 
 Hungarian music, 48, 59, 63, 77. 
 Hypolydian mode, 25. 
 
 Idomenko, 224. 
 Indian scales, 30, 
 
 tune, 57. 
 
 In dulci jubilo, 66. 
 
 Instrumental music, 114, 137, 150, 
 
 175. 273, 293. 
 Instrumentation, 135, 139, 141, 143, 
 
 167, 206, 209, 220, 221, 224, 246, 
 
 257, 278, 281, 308, 314, 316, 327. 
 Intermezzi, 214. 
 Iphigenie en Aulide, 219. 
 
 en Tauride, 22a 
 
 Irish folk-music, 79. 
 Israel in Egypt, 170. 
 Italian choral music, 113, 114, 121 
 
 160. 
 Opera, 127, 143, 223, 307. 
 
 Japanese scales, 37. 
 Javese scale*, 38. 
 
 music, 92. 
 
 Josquin, 12 1. 
 
■n 
 
 nMBH 
 
 INDEX 34I 
 
 KlIBKB, 227. 
 
 Lasso, Orlando, 121. 
 
 Leit-m<»tive, 3^0, 323, 329* 
 
 Liszt, 298. 
 
 Lohengrin, 32a 
 
 Lulli, 138, 311. 
 
 Lis, 34- 
 
 L no, 116, 294. 
 
 Macusi native maiio, 5a 
 Madrigals, 109. 
 Mannheim, 209. 
 Marenzio, 121. 
 Marscbner, 318. 
 Mascarades, 138. 
 Masques. 138. 
 Material of music '3- 
 MeTiul, 311. 
 Melodic element, 7, 9. 
 
 music, 18, 56, 93* 
 
 systems, 18. 
 
 Melodies, several sung simultane- 
 ously, 92. 
 Mendelssohn, 281, 284, 296. 
 Mexican tuue, 69. 
 Meyerbeer, 312, 318. 
 Minuet, 247, 26a 
 
 Modes, 1 10 ; Greek, 24; Indian, 32. 
 Modulation, lit, 133, 324. 
 Monte verde, 1 33, 250. 
 Motets, 93. 
 
 Mozambique, native music of, 51. 
 Mozart, 223, 240, 244, 251, 263. 
 Murcian tune, 78. 
 
 Nethkblands, music of, 120. 
 Notation, 83, 91. 
 Nozze di Figaro, 228 
 Nuove musiche, 133. 
 
 Odbs, choral, 284. 
 Opera, 129, 145, 213, 306. 
 
 and oratorio, beginnings of, 
 
 127. 
 Oratorio, 133, 136, 157, 283. 
 
 Orchestrnl music, 183, 206, 257, 277. 
 Orchestration, 135, 141, 156, 206, 
 
 220, 234 241, 257. 278, 327. 
 Organ, 1 17, 152, 179. 
 Organuin, 91. 
 Oriental music, 57. 
 Ornament, 59, 67, 70, 78, 90, 117, 
 
 132, 141, 192, 299,314. 
 Overture*, 139, I47, 206, 217, 325, 
 
 327- 
 
 Palebtbina, 121, 273. 
 ParadM, 204. 
 Parti tas, 184. 
 Passion music, 173. 
 Pattern tunes, 62. 
 Pentatonic scales, 21, 28. 
 Peri, 129. 
 Persian scales, 28, 
 Phrygian mode, 25, 28. 
 Pianoforte, 256, 294. 
 Piccini, 219, 220. 
 Poitevin tune, 64. 
 Polynesian cannibals, 48. 
 Preludes, 189, 300, 327. 
 Programme music, 276, 292, 296. 
 Purcell, 142, 149, 274. 
 
 Qdalitt of tone, 105, 124, 168, 220, 
 
 257, 328. 
 Quartette, 245. 
 
 Racial characteristics, 61, 306. 
 Radical reforms, 125. 
 Ragas, 32. 
 Raraeau, 155, 311. 
 Realism, 149, 165, 290, 293. 
 Recitative, 128, 130, 136, 146, 166, 
 
 2J0, 226, 325. 
 Reduplication of mImBm, 85. 
 Religion and music, 82. 
 I: d,32i. 
 
 Rhythmic element, 7, 9, 100. 1 1 $, 
 
 181, 201, 203, 260, 261. 
 Rienzi, 319. 
 Ring of the Nibelung, the, 321. 
 
34* 
 
 Rondo, 52, 341. 
 
 Rossini, 308. 
 
 Roumanian folk-music, 6a 
 Rules of early music, 89, 98. 
 Russian folk-music, 53, 55, 62, 66. 
 
 Sahabandk, 185. 
 Savages, music of, 6, 8, 48. 
 Scales, 15 ; Heptatonic and Penta- 
 
 tonic, 21 ; Greek, 22 ; Persian, 
 
 28 ; Indian, 30 ; Chinese, 34 ; 
 
 Japanese, 37 ; Javese, 38 ; 
 
 Siamese, 38 ; European, 16, 19, 
 
 49, 203. 
 Scandinavian folk-music, 74. 
 Scarlatti, Alessandro, 144, 206, 214. 
 Scarlatti, Domenico, 10, 202. 
 Scherzo, 260. 
 Schubert, 287, 296. 
 Schumann, 10, 302, 331. 
 Schutz, 136, 145, 231. 
 Scotch bagpipe, scale of, 39. 
 Scotch tunes, 67, 77. 
 Secular music, rise of, 1 25. 
 Sequence tunes, 55. 
 Sequences, 55, 182, 266, 269, 327. 
 Servian tune, 65. 
 Solo song, 285. 
 Sonata form, development of, 1 96, 
 
 232, 241, 253. 
 Sonatas, 151, 196, 198, 233, 241, 
 
 253, 262, 270, 303, 304. 
 
 for harpsichord, 20X 
 
 for violin, 197. 
 
 Song, 285, 296. 
 Spanish tune, 68, 69. 
 Spohr, 275, 280, 318. 
 Spontini, 311. 
 
 Stamitz, 208. 
 
 Stradella, 137. 
 
 Subjects, 101, 124, 178, 180, 2'- 
 
 240, 270, 322. 
 
 based on tonic chord, 238. 
 
 Suites, 184. 
 
 Symphony, 147, 206, 217, 244, 24 
 
 257, 276. 
 
 Tannhauskb, 320. 
 Temperament, equal, 45, 188. 
 Toccatas, 118, 192. 
 Tonality, 56, 156, 198, 234, 35 
 
 325- 
 Tongataboo, music of natives of, t 
 Troubadours, 102. 
 Trouvere music, 95. 
 Tyrole.se music, 74. 
 
 Vagueness of early music, 123. 
 
 Variations, 54, 184, 27a 
 
 Violin music, 150, 196. 
 
 Violins, 150, 196. 
 
 Viols, 115. 
 
 Vittoria, 12 1. 
 
 Vivaldi, 1 52. 
 
 Vocal music, 7, 19, 23, 48, 51, \ 
 72, 74, 86, 89, 90, 94, 103, 1: 
 149, 162, 165, 171, 219, 226, 2} 
 285, 329. 
 
 Waoneb, 318. 
 Weber, 315. 
 Welsh tune, 64. 
 Wohltemperirte clavier, 186, 300 
 Writing, methods of, 89. 
 
 ZaubkbtlOtb, Die, 23a 
 
 (18) 
 
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