Part 2 — CHURCH MUSIC I.

"The Prayer of the Church is the most pleasing to the ear and heart of God, and therefore the most efficacious of all prayers." While we have been perusing the various works on church music that have come before us in the shape of book, pamphlet, tract, and magazine article, we could not keep the words we have quoted above from the celebrated Dom Gueranger out of our mind. In Europe, both in England and on the continent, it is evident, from the numerous publications pertinent to the subject which have been lately issued, that the due celebration of the divine offices of the Church is becoming more and more the object of no little anxiety on the part of the hierarchy, and that the clergy are everywhere making strenuous efforts to get rid of the abuses which since the Protestant reformation, the straitness of the times has tolerated. One of the most notorious of these abuses, fully naturalized amongst us, is the profane character of church music. Several writers, among whom stand preëminent two English priests—the Rev. Canon Oakeley and the Rev. James Nary—have crossed swords on the subject of reform, and we have thus been enabled not only to get at the merits of the particular dispute between these two amicable combatants, but have been led as well to reflect upon the primary object of music in the divine offices, the intention of the Church, and the means she has ordained for realizing it; although we must confess that, with Dom Gueranger's words ringing in our ears, we have not heard from the pages of the publications in question quite so clear an echo to their truth as we would have wished.

The ritual service of the Church is her prayer, and melody is the almost universal form of expression employed in its celebration. Whatever music is sung or performed at her solemn rites is supposed to be sung and performed by her not as a musical performance, but as a prayer. These are the points more or less ignored in all the discussions on what is or may be made suitable music for the Church. The different sentences, anthems, psalms, etc., appointed to be sung by the choir, are all so many prayers offered by the Church. Therefore it is plain that what is proper as music at her offices must as a first principle be a worthy expression of the voice of the Church lifted in prayer. When the priest, robed in his garments of sacrifice, intones the Gloria at the altar, he does so in the name of the Church, not as the Rev. Mr. —— performing a short, effective, and fine tenor solo; and when the choir continues the same angelical anthem, they do so—or rather, are supposed to do so—as his assistants in the divine action. The priest takes his seat to await its conclusion, not to make one of an audience who for the time being are to be relieved from the more engrossing thoughts of prayer by criticising the Gratias as rendered by Mr. A., enjoying the Qui tollis by Miss B., or the telling chorus of the Cum Sancto.

That the musical portions of the church offices are in a true sense prayer, and are based upon that idea alone, namely, the union of the soul with God; that such is the chief intention of the Church, and should be the only object sought in the choice of music and the execution of it, to the absolute subserviency, even if not to the completely ignoring, of every other sentiment, is therefore beyond question; but who will not be able to count upon his ten fingers the churches in the United States where the music would be likely to leave any such impression upon the minds of the worshippers?

We say this not in any cynical spirit. We know the "straitness of the times," and we ourselves have been straitened, and are still, as well as our neighbors; but the general uneasiness and discontent felt among all classes because of the wretched performances of sacred music to which we have been subjected, utterly at variance as they are with the spirit of the sublime and solemn functions of religion, is beginning to find a voice to make audible complaint, and exciting some laudable efforts to rid the holy place of harmonies which savor more of the world, the flesh, and the devil than they do of divine prayer. So common is the ignorance of what the true music of the Church is, that it is a rare thing to find even a Catholic who has any idea that the Mass has not yet been fully sung when he has heard the Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, and Agnus Dei, and not a note of the Introit, Gradual, Prose, Offertory, or Communion. And as for the Vespers, we think the fingers of one hand might suffice to count the churches where any attempt is made to perform them entire. Of the compositions executed in every style of musical art at Mass, will not the first person to whom you may address yourself, be he a devout Catholic well instructed in other matters, or a music-loving Protestant who is fond of "attending service" in our churches on account of the "glorious music of the Catholic Church," which he thinks he hears there—will they not both tell you, if you are at the pains to interrogate them, that Mozart and Haydn hold the place of angelic doctors of music in the Catholic Church, and Webbe, Farmer, Concone and Co. have equally honorable titles for small churches and country choirs?

Would not either of them return you a stare of incredulity if you told them that not one composition of any of these authors has ever been recognized by any authority in the Church, and that the singing of them has, in point of fact, been only barely tolerated; that the great mass of these musical morceaux are wholly unfit for the purpose for which they were written, and that, ten chances to one, neither of these good friends have ever heard, save the chanting of the priest, one single note of the music sanctioned by the Church in all their lives? Yet all this is true to the very letter. Lamentably true; for religion, in the grandeur, power, and spiritual beauty of its sacred offices, is the loser by it, and the devout and prayerful spirit which such offices are calculated to excite in the souls of the faithful is to a great extent hindered, and replaced by a spirit of sensuousness and worldly amusement.

The fact beyond dispute is, that the faithful are deprived of the true expression of the divine prayer of the Church, both on account of the profane character of the music performed and the entire omission of those portions of the Mass and Vespers which give a distinctive color, tone, and meaning to the seasons and festivals, such as the Introit, the Gradual, Prose, Offertory, Communion, and Antiphons.

Not to speak of the wholly inexcusable practice of reproducing well-known arias from different operas to which the words of some devout hymn are adapted in the most shockingly garbled manner, without regard to grammar or sense, a cursory examination of "the masses" popular among us, and sung, without distinction, at any season and on any festival, would be sufficient to condemn them as totally unfit as vehicles of expression for the words set to them, or the occasion of their performance. Let us quote some true words from the Rev. Mr. Nary:

"Would any one contend that the rollicking tunes of many a modern Kyrie express the meaning of the supplicatory ejaculation, Lord, have mercy on us?... It may fairly be questioned whether any one unaccustomed to our florid church-music, upon hearing one of the jigs which render the sweet prayer, O Lord, give us peace, dona nobis pacem, in some of our modern masses, would be able to tell, not only that it aptly describes the words, but even that it expresses any religious feeling at all. That in numerous instances, modern church music, instead of being descriptive of the holy words to which it is joined, rather expresses the sensuous languor of the stage, or the airy joy of the ball-room, could not well be disputed.

"Indeed, it is exceedingly remarkable that what Haydn, Mozart, Weber, and others would have been ashamed to do for the stage, they have, seemingly without a qualm of conscience, done for the house of God. They knew that they must have been accused of folly, had they in one of their operatic works given to earnestness the tones of jesting, to prayer those of mirth; but this is precisely what they have done for the services of the Church. The most touching supplications of the liturgy are often clothed by them in strains of mockery.... It is not implied here that there are not in the works of the great modern composers beautiful passages full of genuine religious feeling; but will any impartial judge contend that there are many masses in which there is no blundering at all between the words and the music?... Nay, is it not true that certain masses by those composers, if separated from the sacred words and applied to some libretto of the late Eugène Scribe, would only gain in naturalness and meaning by the change? What, then, it may be asked, is there no other music for the Almighty than that of the theatre?... It can hardly be disputed that some of our own churches have too often, in their musical efforts, exhibited scenes bordering very closely upon downright desecration of the house of God.... There is no need to describe the sad feelings which arise in the heart of a Catholic who finds the adorable sacrifice of the Mass turned into a Sunday morning amusement.

"Some people, who allow that the music of some of our churches is thoroughly profane, still justify its use on the plea that it allures strangers, who may be favorably impressed with other and more religious portions of the service. But this is a poor justification of practices which annoy the real congregation, and hinder devotion. No doubt a priest should seek to draw strangers to his church, but all means are not equally legitimate toward attaining this laudable end. Besides, the writer though entirely unable to form any judgment which he could commend to the belief of others, much doubts whether any priest could trace more than a few conversions, if any at all, not to his church music, which may partly be very ecclesiastical, but to his florid or orchestral music, as to their origin."

We need to add little to this. The impressions left upon the mind after being subjected to any one of such performances is well known to all who have suffered. What religious feelings might one reasonably expect to have pervaded (may we not say the audience?) or what devotion could possibly be excited in the hearts of any unfortunate worshippers present on the occasion of which the following is a report:

"Haydn's Mass No. 16 was the great selection. The Kyrie was coldly given, the alto and bass, in the soli parts, being hardly strung up to tune. In the Gloria, however, both chorus and soloists warmed to their work, and several of the finest choral passages were given with great power and precision. The Credo was not taken up firmly, but every praise is due to the manner in which the choir acquitted themselves at the finish, and in the exquisite Et Incarnatus and succeeding quartette the four principal voices blended beautifully together, and the alto (Miss ——) told well in the delivery of the leading and interwoven subject, the Sub Pontio. The most critical would have been satisfied with the evenness with which the principal voices were balanced in this and the subsequent soli passages. The Sanctus and Hosanna were very fairly given, the Benedictus being perhaps the most telling effort of all. The opening of the Agnus was not delivered sufficiently staccato, as the chorus did not hang well together. The Dona Nobis made up for all, and throughout the principals acquitted themselves in unexceptionable style, being well supported at the finish by the chorus."

We are aware that some, while agreeing with us, as they cannot help but do, that "masses" in figured music, and "figured vespers," are in the style of their composition essentially profane, yet choose them, and cause them to be performed, on the plea that the sacredness of the place and the occasion of the divine office is a sufficient corrective of their innate profanity, or that, being "magnificent," "sublime," "classic," etc., such music may justly be employed to adorn the grand functions of religion, and that the theatre ought not to boast of better music than the house of God; that—as one such admirer of classic music said to us—we ought to "spoil the Egyptians;" or again, that Protestants are attracted to churches where such music is given, and may be led by the charm of the music to inquire into the truths of our religion; and finally, that there is nothing else to take its place; the antiquated Gregorian chant being wholly unfit for the cultivated musical ears of the nineteenth century, and to banish this music from Catholic churches would be to do an irreparable injury to high art. But all these pleas fail absolutely in producing any influence upon our judgment, the words of Dom Gueranger sounding so loudly in our ears as they do, and our own experience to the contrary. In point of fact, the sacredness of the place where this kind of music is sung is no corrective of the unworthy nature of the music itself. Doubtless the cantatrice is denied the clapping of hands and the encore which her splendid singing calls for, and the primo basso retires from the front of the organ-gallery without a bow to his fashionable auditory—nevertheless interiorly disgusted, we warrant, by the lack of some visible appreciation of one of his best efforts—and a well-behaved congregation will quietly resume their attitude of prayer at the close of some crashing finale; but are these sufficient evidences of the very opposite impression being produced upon the worshippers to that which the music from its character, aside from the similar manner of its rendering, is not only calculated but is expected to produce? "I hold it for certain," said good old Saint Alphonsus, "that vanity and the devil usually get more by it than God."

What those who defend the use of figured music in our solemn offices must show is, that it not only edifies the faithful, but that it edifies equally with, or more than, the authorized chant. That it is the source of no little disedification; that it distracts the soul from the great object upon which all its powers ought to be concentrated; that it is always more or less an imperfect performance, and, in most cases, a mere makeshift; and that where the organist and singers are in power the sacred ministers play but a subordinate part in a scene in which, as it has been well said, the music from the choir gallery is the magnet which attracts the gold and silver, there cannot be the shadow of a doubt.

But this is not all. Is figured music in conformity as to its style with the spirit of the other portions of the divine office? Will its most strenuous adherents claim for it the title of being a fair and true expression of the Church's prayer? Does it harmonize with those other parts of the office performed in the sanctuary? Here we can speak feelingly. How often have we not been tempted to smile at our own voice intoning the per omnia sæcula sæculorum, as the echoes of that galloping finale of an interminable "offertory piece" or Benedictus were yet resounding in the aisles of the church! What feelings of vexation have not arisen in our breast as the response came back to our ears in slovenly haste, as if our inharmonious cadence had too quickly disturbed the well-merited repose of our choir after, we must confess, their too successful effort to captivate the attention of the congregation, and put the priest in the very pillory of singularity and discord! Why must our mind at such times suffer the painful distraction of remembering the well-known sarcastic remark, that "the Rev. Mr. —— then put up a supplication which was one of the most eloquent prayers ever offered to a Boston audience!"

The second plea, that these classic harmonies, so rich, so melodious, so sublime, etc., etc., should not be denied to the greater glory of God, is of equally small weight, since there are many other things in nature and art extremely beautiful in themselves, truly classic in their conception and execution, which, it must be confessed, would hardly bear transporting to the house of prayer, and which it would take the heroic virtue of a saint to refer to the greater glory of God if exhibited in any place. We do not object to the offering of these harmonies to God, but the question is, Do these harmonies, by their religious tone and devout style, offer themselves to God? Does the Church judge them to be suitable for her divine offices? Let these questions be answered in the affirmative, and our own personal judgment and sentiments shall go to the wall.

The plea that the music as now commonly heard in our churches allures Protestants, and thus brings them within sight and hearing of Catholic truth, has been already well answered in our quotation from Mr. Nary. For ourselves, judging from the behavior of the mass of these visitors, we are forced to the conclusion that they frequent our churches where fine music is given because they can get it at a cheaper rate than they would have to pay for it elsewhere.

That there is nothing else to take its place, and that the antiquated Gregorian chant is unfit for our ears of modern cultivation, is simply the plea of ignorance. The established chant of the Church not only can take its place, as we shall attempt to show further on, but as a fact it has never ceded its right to any other style of music; and those who know any thing of the Gregorian chant scientifically, know that it is our modern ears that are at fault, perverted as they have been in their sense and appreciation of true religious melody by the sensuous and effeminate spirit which pervades all modern art.

It is strongly urged that the reintroduction of the Gregorian chant in our churches, now wholly committed to the use of modern music, is impossible, for the hired singers will have nothing to do with it. To which we answer that, as the execution of the Gregorian chant necessarily excludes female vocalists from the choir in accordance with the sacred canons, the prima donna will undoubtedly have to look elsewhere for an engagement, and very likely the tenore and basso who sing in the Mass on Sunday in our church, and perform in the opera buffa all the rest of the week, may refuse to employ their highly cultivated voices in singing music that affords them so little opportunity of exhibiting their artistic powers; but, we may ask, are these the only favored beings whom God has endowed with good voices and the ability to use them? We propose to enter more fully into this question of difficulty, and think we shall be able to show that in this as well as in other matters, "where there's the will, there's a way."

In the interests of art, it is asked, ought not the composition, and by consequence the reproduction of sacred music be encouraged? Will not its banishment from our churches be a species of vandalism in art greatly to be deplored? Let us look at this fairly. What is this so-called "sacred" music? Is it more or less than the adaptation of the words of prayer uttered by the church to concerted harmony composed as an artistic expression of the sentiment conveyed by the sacred words? Surely nothing more. But what is concerted harmony, as a rule, "sacred" or "consecrated" to? To the words of the offices of the church? By no means. There is but one kind of music consecrated to that—the Gregorian chant. And, with our hands upon our hearts, can we say that modern music has received such an aid in its development through the composition and execution of Masses, Magnificats, Offertories, Tantum Ergos, and the like, that its present state of advancement is as much indebted to them as is popularly supposed, or that their withdrawal from the service of the Church would prove any very serious detriment to it? As pieces of musical art, the operas and oratorios of composers are far superior to the masses they have written, and we who may choose would much rather listen to them. We must not be understood to decry the composition of so-called sacred music, or the singing of it. On the contrary, we would do all in our power to encourage it; but we object to its usurping the place of music better fitted for the divine offices of the Church, and vastly surpassing it for such use in every particular. There is plenty of time, outside of the hour or two in which we are present at Mass or Vespers, to hear all the sacred music we desire or can bear. All we ask is, let the Church pray her own prayers and sing her own divine song without hinderance, or the intrusion of harmonies as ill-suited to her voice as they are powerless to express the emotions of her more than human soul.

This leads us to the utterance of a grave complaint against modern sacred music, namely, the absurd settings of words by which the divine offices are not only prolonged to a tedious extent, but the Holy Church is made to stammer, repeat, hesitate in her speech, and fall at last into an inextricable confusion of tongues. Did our pious congregation below stairs know what their singers are singing up aloft, they would not unfrequently be reminded of certain warnings against "vain repetitions." The Masses of composers who wrote in the seventeenth and eighteenth century are not only open to the charge of being replete with these vain repetitions, but are full of the most ridiculous blunders.

We subjoin a specimen. The words given are those sung by the leading soprano; the lines (—) show where the text is broken up by instrumental interludes:

"Glory to God in the highest——in the highest——to God glory——to God glory——to God glory, glory to God in the highest, to God in the highest, to God in the highest, to God in the highest——to God in the highest——and on earth peace——peace——peace to men, and on earth peace——peace——peace to men——of good, good——will——will——of good, good will, of good, good, good will——of good, good will, of good, good, good will——of good will——of good will——of good will——We praise, we bless——we adore——we glorify——we give thanks to thee for thy great glory, for thy great glory, for thy great glory, for thy great glory——thy glory——thy glory——O Lord God, God, heavenly King, God the Father Almighty——O God the Son——only begotten——Jesus Christ; O Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father——Son of the Father——Son of the Father——Son of the Father——O Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father——O Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father, Son, Son of the Father——who takest, who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy, have mercy, have mercy on us——who takest away, who takest away the sins of the world, receive our prayer, our prayer, our prayer, our prayer, our prayer——who sittest, who sittest at the right hand of the Father, have mercy, have mercy on us——have mercy, have mercy on us——For thou only art holy, thou only art the Lord——only art the highest, Jesus Christ——For thou only art holy——thou only, thou only art the highest——thou only, thou only art the highest, Jesus Christ——Jesus Christ——For thou only——thou only art holy, thou only art highest——Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ——For thou only, thou only art highest, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ——For thou only art holy, thou only art the Lord——thou only art highest, Jesus Christ——For thou only art holy, thou only, only art holy, thou only, only, art the Lord.——For thou only art holy——thou only art the Lord——thou only art holy, thou only art the Lord, only, art highest. For thou only, thou only art holy——thou art the Lord——only art highest, thou only art highest, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ——For thou only——thou only art highest——Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ——For thou only, thou only art highest——Jesus Christ——Jesus, Jesus Christ——Jesus, Jesus Christ——Jesus——Christ——With the Holy Ghost——in the glory of God the Father. Amen, amen. With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the Father. Amen, amen——Amen, amen——With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the Father, Amen, in the glory of God the Father——Amen——Amen——Amen——Amen, amen, amen, amen.——With the Holy Ghost——in the glory of God the Father. Amen. With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the Father, Amen, amen, amen. With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the Father, Amen, amen, amen, amen.——With the Holy Ghost——With the Holy Ghost, with the Holy Ghost, with the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the Father, of God the Father, Amen, amen, amen, amen, amen, amen——With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the Father, Amen, amen, amen——in the glory of God the Father, Amen, amen——of God the Father, Amen; in the glory of God the Father, Amen; in the glory of God the Father, Amen——of God the Father, Amen. With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the Father, Amen, amen——of God the Father, Amen——of God the Father, Amen, amen, amen, amen, amen."

And this from Doctor Mozart's renowned Mass No. 12, which we have heard so often, and enjoyed so much! But he is not alone. We quote from an able paper from the Dublin Review on "Church Music and Church Choirs:"

"Thus we have a 'Credo' beginning with the four phrases, Credo in unum Deum—Genitum non factum—Qui propter nos—and Et ex Patre natum—all sung simultaneously by the four voices. Again, we have a 'Gloria' beginning with the four phrases, Gratias agimus (for the soprano)—Domine Fili (alto)—Domine Deus (tenor)—Et in terra pax (bass)—the whole being dispatched in two short pages of music!

"As for instances of garblings by the omission of words and clauses in much of the popular mass music, they are too numerous to be mentioned.

"One of the most grotesquely absurd settings, perhaps, is that of the 'Alma Redemptoris' of Webbe. The words are divided into three parts, the first ending with 'cadenti,' the second with 'genitorem,' the same music being used for each, and a repeat and musical interlude coming between. The consequence is that the adjective 'cadenti' is entirely cut off from its substantive 'populo;' and the whole, as sung, is of course sheer nonsense. The reason is plain. Webbe found an air which, by a threefold repetition, could be applied to the words of the antiphon, and for this every thing, even to the grammar of the piece, was sacrificed. No doubt this is the history of many of the absurd adaptations we meet with.

"Nothing can go beyond the examples we have quoted, except, perhaps, the instance of a composer of the 'light Italian school,' who by way of producing an original and striking musical effect in the 'Credo,' made one voice sing 'Genitum non factum,' and another respond 'Factum non genitum!' It will be said that these are extreme cases, and that many of the pieces are not likely to be used in our churches. Be it so; still they show what it was the fashion of certain composers to provide for the use of the Church, and what is apt to come of the theory that it does not matter what is sung by the choir, provided the people do not hear it. But whether heard or not, the rules of the Church (and we see how strict they are on these points) remain the same. Besides, do we sing merely to satisfy the ears of an audience? Rather, is not this the true principle—In conspectu Angelorum psallam tibi, Domine?"

To the ignorance, alas! so general, of what the Church is actually saying in her holy offices, and what the choir is singing in her name, as well as of what they are omitting to sing as in duty bound, may be attributed in great measure the apparent indifference with which the people of our congregations listen to any musical production from the choir, be it in harmony with the season or the festival, as the case may be, or not, provided only that the voices are in harmony with each other. Did they know better, they would say with Pope Benedict XIV., who, it seems, had some of our own abuses to contend with and reform in Rome itself, as other popes have had since his time. Speaking of St. Augustine, who used to be moved to tears by the singing (be it well understood, not of such music as we possess) in the churches, he says that "the music moved him indeed, but still more so the words he heard. But he would weep now also for grief; for, although he heard the singing, he could not distinguish the words."

Let us hear something more of the opinions of the same holy pope about figured "sacred music." "The Gregorian chant is that song which excites the minds of the faithful to piety and devotion; it is that music, therefore, which, if sung in our churches with care and decorum, is most willingly heard by devout persons, and is justly preferred to that which is called figured or harmonized music. The titillation of figured music is held very cheaply by men of religious mind in comparison with the sweetness of the Church chant, and hence it is that the people flock to the churches of the monks, who, taking piety for their guide in singing the praises of God, after the counsel of the prince of psalmists, skilfully sing to their Lord as Lord, and serve God as God with the utmost reverence."

Did we add no more, we think we have said enough to show that the employment of figured music for the divine offices is an abuse. It does not answer its purpose, and its permission is nothing better than a winking at our weakness, (the wisdom of which, considering all things, we by no means presume to condemn for the past,) while the prevailing sensuousness and libertinism of the times has debased and emasculated our taste in true religious art.

But it is a comfort to know that such music has never received from the supreme pastors and rulers of the church any thing more than a reluctant permission, that the concessions they have made in its favor have always been exacted by the force of circumstances, and that they have constantly raised their voice in opposition to it as an abuse, and urged in the strongest terms of command and persuasion its abolition, and a return to the authorized chant, the universal song of the Church, ever ancient and ever new.

Dilettanti talk, with an air of superior knowledge, of the Gregorian chant as if it were something obsolete, the uncouth production of a barbarous and unartistic age. We think there are not a few other fashions and modes of religious expression besides her chant, that the Church has persistently adhered to, which modern ideas might with equal justice denounce as obsolete and of unartistic origin. As has been well remarked,

"This conservatism, if we may so call it, of the Church, is not confined to plain chant. The same may be said of the language and the style of her offices, the dresses of her clergy and religious orders, and many of her rites, ceremonies, and customs. The chant is, therefore, no stranger than any part of the Church system; and that system being what it is, the antique character of the music seems in every way suitable."

To be sure. What would we think of an archbishop to-day standing before the altar dressed in a frock-coat with a stove-pipe hat on his head, and a pair of patent leather boots on his feet, giving his solemn benediction en roulade?

What we have said in regard to the wishes and commands of the Church, as expressed by the papal bulls and decrees of councils in regard to this matter, we propose to prove by referring the reader to several of these authorities.

Alexander VII., in his Constitution 36, Piæ sollicitudinis, 23d April, 1657, excludes all singing of pieces not contained in the liturgy or approved by the Congregation of Rites, and all profane styles of music. (Bullar. t. 6.)

The Congregation of the Apostolical Visitation, July 30th, 1665, enforced and explained more fully the constitution of Alexander VII. The character of the music at Mass and Office is to be ecclesiastical, grave, and devotional. Only what is prescribed for the day or season is to be sung. It prohibits prolonged solos. It prescribes that the words are to be sung as they were written, without any inversion, addition, or other change.

The popes, Innocent XI., 1678, and Innocent XII., 1692, renewed and enforced similar rules, imposing, as their predecessors had done, heavy penalties on choir-masters for disobedience. (V. Bullar. t. 7.)

In the Council of Rome, 1725, Benedict XIII. insists upon the ecclesiastical character of the music to be used in church. (Tit. 15, cap. 6.)

Benedict XIV., in a circular letter, enters at large into the subject of church music, and, while he does not wholly condemn the use of figured music, yet deplores the bad taste of those who employ it, as well as the great neglect of religion which he attributes to the careless performance of the divine offices of the church. As we have seen already, he distinctly prefers the Gregorian chant, and refers in this letter to the decree of the Council of Trent in regard to it.

Clement XIII., Sept. 17th, 1760, issued an edict against the abuse of prolonging the music in church "to the detriment of devotion and of the approved rites, and in violation of the canons and rubrics."

The cardinal vicar of Gregory XVI., 1842, inveighs against tiresome repetition and arbitrary inversion of words.

Pius IX., June 28th, 1853, showed his great wish for the thoroughly religious character of church music; for in his letters establishing the Seminario Pio, in connection with the Roman Seminary, he ordered that the students should be taught the Gregorian chant, and no other. "Cantus Gregorianus, omni alio rejecto, tradetur." (Tit. 5, de studior. ratione.)

The latest instruction issued by the cardinal vicar, Nov. 18th, 1856, denounces the scandals caused by the introduction of profane theatrical music in the churches, and the interminable length of their execution, and, "by express command of his holiness," lays down a set of rules which are to be observed in future. At the same time the cardinal issued a series of instructions to composers, from which it is evident very little encouragement is given them to write for the Church, and they are so restricted that we very much doubt if they care to put their Pegasus in such a cumbrous harness as the good cardinal prescribes.

The late Plenary Council of Baltimore confirms a decree made in the former one, which reads as follows:

"That all may be done according to prescribed order, and that the solemn rites of the Church be preserved in their integrity, we admonish pastors of churches to earnestly labor in removing those abuses which, in our country, have crept into the church chant. Let them, therefore, provide that the music be subservient to the holy Sacrifice of the Mass and other offices, and not the divine offices to the music. Let them also bear in mind that, according to the ritual of the Church, it is not lawful to sing hymns in the vernacular language at High Mass nor at solemn Vespers."[85]

The wishes of the fathers of the Council in regard to the Gregorian chant may be seen in the decree De Vesperis:

"Moreover, we judge it to be most desirable that the rudiments of the Gregorian chant be taught and practised in parochial schools, and thus, the number of those who can chant the psalms well increasing more and more, gradually the greater part, at least, of the people, according to the usage of the primitive church yet preserved in many places, may be able to join with the sacred ministers and choir in singing Vespers and other similar offices; which will be the source of edification to all, according to that saying of St. Paul, 'Speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual canticles.'"[86]

In the same strain many bishops in Europe have raised their voices against the profane music which has crept insidiously into the holy place, and urged a speedy return to the use of the ancient chant.

From the authorities we have adduced we get at the mind of the Church, and see that it is plainly adverse to the introduction of the modern style of music in our sacred offices, and we have not been able to find one instance where its use has been officially permitted in any particular diocese but with the utmost reluctance, and not without expressing at the same time an earnest wish that the old chant of the Church might be restored to its primitive universal use.

There is also a significant fact not unworthy our notice. Looking at the Protestant churches around us, we see that it is only in those which are fast losing their former hold upon some form of ritual in their religious meetings, that elaborate figured music is finding a home, and garbled portions of "the masses" of Mozart, Haydn, and other Catholic composers are being sung to a nauseating adaptation of English words: while, on the other hand, those which are with equally rapid advances returning to the bosom of unity with the Catholic Church are cultivating the Gregorian chant to a degree which ought to put us to the blush, and imitating, as best they may, the ecclesiastical and devout order of Catholic worship, and hold our figured and florid music in deserved contempt. Straws show which way the wind blows.

Sudden revolutions, however, are not to our mind; and we know something of the difficulties in the way of such a reform in the matter of church music as the Church evidently desires, and a general movement toward the ancient discipline which she would encourage and bless. Because we cannot do all in a day is no reason why we cannot do something in a week. In England, the clergy have taken the whole subject to heart, and have already accomplished wonders. There are many churches where the whole services are given entire. All that is prescribed de rigueur to be sung at Mass is sung. Vespers and Compline strictly according to the breviary are chanted in more than one church by the whole congregation. They have not entirely eliminated figured music, but are reducing it to its lowest terms.[87] Few churches are without their boy choirs, trained to sing the devout song of the sanctuary. The zealous Archbishop of Westminster has issued an order that no new church be opened in his diocese unless provision be made for a sanctuary choir. He has not thought it right, as he says, to enforce the orders of the former vicars apostolic, "Fœminæ voces ne audiantur in choro," yet he adds, "All that I can effect by the strongest expression of desire and by persuasion, I shall endeavor to effect."

Surely we can also do something toward aiding the Church in liberating herself from this captivity to an expression of her majestic offices so foreign to the true sound of her own voice. Looking back upon the days when the untiring voice of prayer was ascending to heaven from the holy sanctuaries of religion, when the festival days were kept and the faith was strong and the people devout, a faith and devotion due in a great measure to the sacredness of liturgical worship and the inspiration of the holy chants, may we not justly mourn the loss of this ancient fervor, and earnestly strive to awaken an interest in what, for so many good reasons, appears to hold more than an accidental relation to it?

We have no doubt that the coming Œcumenical Council will speak in yet stronger terms in favor of a reform so vital to the interests of religion in the whole world.

In subsequent articles we propose to consider some propositions made to ameliorate the present state of things, the characteristics of the Gregorian chant as the true song of the Church, and offer some hints as to the manner of its execution, and the means of obtaining and holding a permanent chorus of singers who shall make the divine praises resound in our consecrated Houses of Prayer in a manner more edifying to the faithful, and more becoming the Divine Majesty.