BOSTON, SATURDAY, FEB. 19, 1876.

The most famous and most enduring giftious song which reach our ears faintly from more made by music to the national spirit of the time were C. M. von Weber's settings of Theodor Körner's Leier und Schwert (composed in 1814).

enthusiasm, but darting, flashing fire, that warmed and lighted up everything. Not to speak of the extension of their com songs were, at one and the same time, costly bined triumphs in Oratorio and (with certain limimusical gems and a political power; they are, tations to be hereafter considered) in Opera, it has properly speaking, the only specimens of the been long since discovered that the younger sister occasional music of that period which have was not dependent on the elder-that music had lasted to the present day. In Vienna, it was her own language and her own utterances apart from comparatively a long time before Leier und poetry, and had strength and resources for pursuing Schwert were known. As far as I am aware, it her own independent course. Commencing with was not until after 1820 that any of the music forms of composition appealing rather to the reason was played there, a fact which is the more than the fancy of the listener-with expositions of the logical elaboration of themes according to a pre striking, as the poet, Theodor Körner, was so scribed form and in direct reference to a scientific well known and so highly esteemed in the Aus-basis-instrumental music has gradually invaded trian capital. For Körner, personally, art the realms of sentiment and imagination, has extendcame forward with only a very modest com- ed and amplified her forms of expression, and called memorative tribute, namely an: "Elocutionary Entertainment as funereal Celebration for Th. Körner," which was given by his friend, Th.

Music," should be read by those who are interested on the subject:

"In that extraordinary spectacle to which the Italians had given the name of opera, there is to be found such a mingling of the great and the small, the beautiful and tasteless, that I hesitate in what terms to write about it. In the best of operas, we see and hear such stupid and trivial things, that we might think them only calculated for children, or for a childish populace; and in the midst of their revolting silliness, passages occur that pierce the heart with horror, fear, pity, or refined voluptuous ness. A scene, during which we have forgotten

ourselves, and felt the liveliest interest in the characters, is followed by one in which the same characters strike us as blundering fools, awkwardly trying to astonish and alarm a vulgar crowd. While we cannot bear to recall the senselessness which has disgusted us in the opera, we cannot help re membering its charming scenes with emotion, or without wishing that artists would unite to make of this great spectacle that perfect thing which it is capable of becoming. The opera might be the most powerful of all spectacles, because all the fine arts unite in it; but it is a proof of the superficiality of the moderns that they have lowered, and exposed to contempt, all the arts." (Sulzer: Theorie der schönen Künsten).

Without noticing the serious non sequitur that the opera "might be the most powerful of all spectacles because all the fine arts unite in it" (the truth being that union of arts is but too apt to result in weakness, teste opera itself), the writer shows that Gluck in a measure anticipated Wagner's theories, but considers that the earlier reformer did not carry his principles to their logical results. He proceeds to say truly

dramatic veil hung before them; and this principle
Wagner has definitively adopted in its entirety, as
the only legitimate and satisfactory solution of the
problem of the union of music with dramatic story
and stage action.

Tracing the development of Wagner's mind
as shown by his earlier works, the writer of
the article reminds us of the raison d'etre of
"Tristan and Isolde," which is probably, or
might be, the next work of Wagner's to be
produced in England. The reformer was writ-
ing his great tetralogy:-

The composition of such a work of course spread
over some years; and it was whilst still engaged in
it that he was induced, partly by hearing of the
growing acceptance of his earlier works on the part
of the public, to pause from his task for the compo-
sition of a smaller opera which would give him the
chance of at once hearing something of his own
written in accordance with his latest feelings and
views on the art. The work written in accordance
with this impulse is "Tristan and Isolde," which is
in fact later in order of composition than most of
the Tetralogy, which represents more completely
than any other of his works the artistic result of the
theory of opera which he has evolved and to which
he may be said to have pledged himself. In this
work the subordination of the music to the drama,
or, as its composer would probably prefer to say,
the interpenetration of the two, is complete. Not a
vestige of lyrical form is left (saving a rough song
by the men on Tristan's vessel in praise of his ex-
ploits); the operatic chorus has utterly disappeared,
and "the entire extent of the music is, as it were,
presented in the tissue of words and verses-that is
to say, that the musical melody is already contained
in the poem." The step from "Tannhäuser
"Tristan" is accordingly, as the composer himself
observes, much longer than that from "Rienzi" to
"Tannhäuser." We may readily concede that a
much more intimate amalgamation between the po-
em and the music is attained by this method of pro-
cedure, and find no difficulty in believing that this
prefiguration of the musical form in the poem may
have proved rather & help and a stimulus than a
hindrance in composing the latter. There remains
the question, "whether by this procedure the musi
cal form of melody is not prejudiced by being de-
prived of its freedom of movement as well as devel-
opment?" That is indeed the point upon which we
are disposed to think Wagnerian opera must ulti-
mately stand or fall.

to

The problem, of course. really turns upon the question, what degree of conventionality is aimed at in musical drama? All dramatic art of high class is conventional—is removed from the plane of realism-and we require that the special standard of conventionality adopted should be consistently maintained. A perfectly logical scheme of lyrical drama may be framed. if we regard the music as only employed to illustrate, heighten, and prolong the expression of feeling at certain points where it rises to a climax suitable for lyrical utterance; the intermediate or connecting links of the poem being treated in a more desultory musical form (recitative), chiefly with the view of preserving tonal unity and continuity. This principle is very nearly real- Of Herr Wagner's theoretic basis for the position ized in such an opera, for instance, as "Don Gio- he assumes we must say at once that it appears to vanni; " indeed, the adherents of Wagner admit us to be equally contradicted by nature and by artthat the dramatic demands of opera were by no history. We can hardly be expected to waste space means overlooked in the main by Mozart, whom, in in collecting formal evidence that the love of rhythm. fact, they rather adroitly manage to claim as an ally ical accent is something inherent in human nature, on the plea that he " unconsciously worked to the and not dependent on accidents of time, place, and same end," though they (correctly) adduce instances habit; we may just allude to the fact, certainly not in which he uses the lyric form where the stage sit-insignificant, that even the very physical basis of uation does not admit of it; as, for instance, in the duet in Figaro" before the page jumps out of the window. But there is nothing essentially illogical or shocking to the critical sense in this form of lyrie drama, if consistently carried out; the conditions of the representation are understood beforehand; there is really no more aesthetic lapsus in it than in people talking in blank-verse or rhymed couplets in the spoken drama. It may no doubt be objected that in such a form of composition the music is of primary and the poem of secondary importance, but it must be remembered that much of the effect and even the meaning of the music are dependent upon the existence of well-contrasted characters and telling" situations," which must be defined by the poet, not to say that the very objection supposed in volves a begging of the question and an entire shifting of the ground of criticism. Waiving that, however, it must we think, be admitted that there is a consistent form of lyrical drama, which has been the point de départ in the operatic works of Mozart, Beethoven, and Weber (not to mention lesser names), and which Herr Wagner himself adheres to, to a considerable extent, in his "Tannhäuser." But there is also what we should distinguish as musical drama, in which the poem occupies altogether the first place, and in which the musical setting is employed purely as a means of adding force and coloring to dramatic expression, and the musical form compelled to bend entirely to the form and progress of the drama. To this principle of the combination of music and drama Gluck's method tended, though, as we have inferred, he never fully realized it, the outlines of the old regular musical forms constantly showing themselves through the

music is rhythm, since the distinction between what
we recognize as musical sounds and those which are
not so consists in the isochronous character of the
vibrations in the former. The statement of the case
on historical grounds, methodical as it appears in
Herr Wagner's way of putting it, is based upon a com-
plete petitio principii. Granting that we had data
sufficient to enable us to say positively that Greek
music consisted in rhythmical tunes used only as an
accompaniment to the dance, why is the dance to be
the cause and the music the effect? Surely it were
at least as reasonable to regard both as springing
from the same innate tendency to rhythmical ex-
pression; or even to go further and regard the dance
as arising out of the music, and impossible without
it. The tune can be invented and played without
the dance; the latter cannot be danced without the
tune. Admitting, however, the dance-form of pre-
historic music to be established, Wagner points to
the noble school of unrhythmical polyphonous mu-
sic of which Palestrina was the great name, and
asks who, after hearing his "Stabat Mater," and
contrasting it with the mere tune writing of the
modern Italian opera, "could suppose the latter to
be the legitimate daughter of that wondrous moth-
er?" Fully sympathizing with the main tendency
of the feeling implied by the question, we reply,
that even supposing the historical connexion be-
tween the two schools cannot be traced (as we think
it can), the deduction as to the inherent supremacy
of music unfettered by rhythm is no fair one from
the premises. In the first place it must be remem-
bered that the early Italian church school, however
grand and elevated in style, is very restricted in its
range, and is in fact, only the somewhat monoto-

nous though solemn and impressive rendering of a special phase of religious feeling; while it would be most unfair to deny to the modern Italian school the creation of melodies, some of which have stirred all hearts, and whose charm, such as it is, seems to be imperishable. But the light genre of the modern basis" which Wagner satirizes-is no intrinsic charItalian school generally-the“ poverty of harmonic acteristic of rhythmical music. The German school also "reverted" (if we are so to speak) to the rhythmical or "dance-tune" form of melody, and treated it polyphonally in a grand series of works the greatness of which Wagner does not venture to deny; and the fair comparison would be between this and the early Italian school-between polyphonous melody plus rhythm and polyphonous melody minus rhythm. We will not insult the critical faculty of our readers by asking them whether or not they consider the choral works of Handel and Bach,

or the school of instrumental music which culminated in Beethoven, an extension of the boundaries of the art as practised by Palestrina and his compeers. The educated world, with the exception of a few

ecclesiological enthusiasts, has fully made up its mind on that point. A somewhat similar logical fallacy is apparent in Wagner's assertion, repeated still more authoritatively by his literary satellites, that so far from melody being cramped or interfered with by his system, it is greatly extended, and that his operas are, in fact, one succession and blending of melody from beginning to end. It is obvious that this is a mere arbitrary playing with language. We all know what we mean by "melody;" and if its essence be more easily felt than defined, we at least know that it is dependent on measured accent in

time as well as on measured intervals in pitch, for that symmetrical proportion which gives it an individual and recognizable form. Wagner may plead that his music presents opportunity for higher expression than can be attained through melodic form, but it is absurd to pretend that he is offering the world the quality which it understands by the term tain, if he please, that prose is a more suitable or 'melody." It is open to a dramatic poet to maineven a nobler means of expression for his art than verse, but he would be justly derided if he were to uge that it was in fact the highest and most complete development of verse.

Passing by for the moment the question, whether the principle of musical composition advocated by Wagner is absolutely a higher development of the art, the writer in the Edinburgh asks if it is so relatively to the objects and theory of the musical drama. Is it the best and most consistent theory of the union of music and poetry?

Admitting at once that such a form of art must in the end be judged by its results-by its power over the listener's feeling (which is the sole defence that can be set up for the form of most works now occupying the lyric stage), and that we have hitherto had scant opportunity for forming such a judgment, we can nevertheless hardly fail to see that the consistency of Wagner's method is sorely menaced when subjected to an impartial examination. We noticed above the differentiation between the methods of poetry and music respectively; the power of concentration in the former, the almost absolute need of extension and repetition in the latter. This has been well brought out by Mr. Matthew Arnold in his thoughtful little essay in verse, rather than poem, "An Epilogue on Lessing's Laocoon," where he discriminates the province of music, in relation to words, by instancing the depth and extension which the musician imparts to the feeling expressed in such a concentrated phrase as Miserere Domn:—

Beethoven takes the two
Poor wounded words, and makes them new;

So Handel, when he would tell us how "the children of Israel sighed, by reason of the burdens," does so by the repetition, the persistence with which the grief and sighing are drawn out until the impression has sunk into our hearts. So, to glance at instrumental music, when Beethoven invented that deeply pathetic allegretto in his Seventh Symphony, it is not by the mere enunciation of the theme that he touches us; it is not till the leading proposition, so to speak, has been drawn out, repeated, amplified, contrasted, heard now in this form now in that, till its last broken accents die on our ears, that we realize the feeling which he meant to awaken in our

souls. But the compositions referred to are not
dramatic in their form. True: but do not such ex-
amples, and innumerable others, practically testify
to the truth of the theory as stated by Mr. Arnold,
and does it not follow that in a system which im-ways largely partook of the style proper to counter
plies the detailed interpenetration of the music and
the poem, precisely the reverse of the old error has
been committed-that the music has been sacrificed
to the poem? And yet further inconsistencies seem
to arise as we look more closely at the conditions of
the combination. Whatever his contempt for rhythm,
the composer is obliged to employ the division into
"bars
which originated with rhythm-the very
possibility of getting his music executed depends
upon it; and so we find him not only in his latest
work, but even in many parts of " Lohengrin" in a
continual strife between the rhythmical accent im-
plied by the barring, and the effort to conceal and
escape from it by devices of syncopation and other
means of breaking up and nullifying the recurring
bar accent. This is a matter of form comparatively
a still stranger inconsistency is that rhythm should
be retained in its most marked and recurrent form
in the versification, and yet that the consistency of
the music with the poem is to be obtained by oblit-
erating the rhythm of the latter. There seems to us
to be an absolute perversity of reasoning implied in
such a method. Then, again, though the poem and
the dramatic action are to be the basis of the whole,
without which the music can have no locus standi

But still the ecclesiastical musicians of Italy con

to suit the words. Palestrina and his school did church, that pure vocal music alone is admissible in not by any means confine themselves to composition public worship, let them not listen to the remarks on the plainsong of the church. Much of their mu I am about to make-they are not addressed to them. sic was bonâ fide original composition. Still it al-The consideration which I wish to lay before this meeting is this-Whether all the arguments which point on the plainsong, on account of its being writ can be adduced in defence of the accompaniment of ten in some of the old ecclesiastical scales, for the vocal music by the organ, during Divine service, do most part, our present system of tonality not being not equally vindicate the use of other instruments then fixed. After Monteverde had discovered the also. It is easy to understand a line being drawn true use of dominant discords, and music had begun between pure vocal music, and instrumental accom to pass into a new system of tonal development, paniments. But it is (as I think) quite impossible when the relations of the key note to the dominant to draw a line between the exclusive use of the orchord, the force of the leading note, and the possi-gan, and the employment of a full band. If we go bility of real modulation by the use of the dominant to Scripture for examples, we are at once confrontseventh, had begun to be recognized,-it followed, ed with the enormous orchestra which played at of course, that the style of church music in Italy the dedication of Solomon's Temple. We have to underwent considerable modifications. And anoth- face the headings or dedications of many of David's er thing which contributed not a little to this change Psalms, wherein not only are the various instruof style was the universal adoption of some sort of ments named by which they were to be accompanaccompaniment to the voices, either the organ, or a ied, but the names of some of the performers are small string band being so employed. specified. We have to encounter the employment of the large orchestra again by King Hezekiah, tinued to compose on the basis of the cantus fermus, coupled with the express declaration that it was all though in a somewhat freer manner than formerly. done according to the express command of God. And magnificent specimens of the effects they suc(2 Chron. xxix, 25-28.) We cannot in the face of ceeded in thus producing may be seen in the works such evidence as this condemn the use of instrumenof such men as Leo, Clari, Scarlatti, Lotti, &c., &c. tal accompaniments to Divine services as unscriptuIn Spain church music ran a parallel course. In the ral. At any rate, it is amply sanctioned by the Old Lira Sacra Hispana of Senor Eslava are contained a Testament, and I defy any one to find a syllable in whatever, yet the actors, who are to sing the words, very fine series of compositions for the church by the New Testament which has the least appearance all the best Spanish composers, from the 15th to the of countermanding or forbidding the established are in the musical construction completely secondaOur Lord at19th centuries. And it is interesting to observe the customs of the Jews in this matter. ry, and in absolute bondage to the orchestra, in the fetters of whose intricate movement they are entan- analogy which appears always to have existed be-tended the services in the Temple, and thence drove out the buyers and sellers, and exposed every pre tween the Italian and Spanish church music, while gled. This is a singular result of a theory which Yet He never once said a single at the same time there is sufficient difference be- vailing abuse. professes to regard the human word" as the pitween the two to mark very clearly the character word against the use of church music. In this, then, mal cause and motive of music. Surely the theory of the two countries. In France ecclesiastical mu as in other matters, we may rest assured that "the of what we have called lyrical drama (as distinct sic was not raised to anything like the pitch of Old Testament is not contrary to the New." And from musical drama), in which music in its extended perfection to which it attained in Italy and Spain in to corroborate this argument still further, let us reforms of construction is used to amplify and intensi- the 16th and 17th centuries. In Belgium, Orlando member the many passages in the Book of Revelafy the emotional expression at the great crisis of the di Lasso and others might be said to rival the tion, which speak of “Harpers harping with their poem, is as consistent as this. Wagner himself adschools of southern Europe. In Germany also were harps," as seen and heard in a vision by St. Johnat mits the power and beauty attained by some of the Were I preaching a sermon instead of great composers in this genre of opera-admits also many good composers who more or less followed Patmos. the same track, and may be looked upon as the germ reading a paper, I could go on at length to bring that in their finest scenes they have entirely surof the great German classical school of a more reforward argument upon argument, and fact upon mounted what is (no doubt) the weak point in it, cent period, to which all others had eventually to fact, to establish the Scripturalness and consequent "the juxtaposition of absolute recitative and abso- give place. During the Elizabethan period we in lawfulness of instrumental music in public worship. lute aria, so detrimental to a perfect style," and that England had a school of church composers equal to But, as it is, I must not enlarge further on this thethe recitative has received already with them, in in such cases, "a melodic and rhythmic signifi- any then in the world. But owing to the Reforma-ological point. Suffice it to observe that the vast tion and the translation of the church service into majority of passages which may be adduced refercance, and unites itself insensibly with the broader the vernacular, we do not find either in their works, ring to musical instruments in the Bible, refer to structure of melody proper." Yet, in his pursuit of or in those of Protestant composers in Germany and stringed instruments of various kinds, and others to that ignis fatuns, a perfectly logical theory, the mod-Holland, the same plan pursued as to the retention trumpets-a very few to instruments of percussion. ern composer, instead of working up to its further of the old Church melodies as the groundwork of But, of course, none whatever to what we call organs, capabilities a system which he admits to have pro- elaborate and contrapuntal works. Not but what for these had not then been invented. Of all instruduced such great effects, cuts the knot by discardwe have some specimens also of that, e.g., Tallis's ments, then, it may be said that organs are among ing altogether what he here truly defines as Harmonies for the Responses and Litany. And it the least Scriptural, while the harp might be defend. broader structure of melody proper," and adopting would not be difficult to name many of our bested with much more success were all arguments conthe imperfect recitative form, as the sole means of English composers at the present date who have fined to the pages of Holy Writ. expression for the deeper emotions as well as for the lesser incidents of his drama. A greater unity of pursued the same course with equal success.

"the

form, a more close connexion between words and
music, may be thus obtained; but it is at the cost
of forbidding to music all her old freedom of flight,
of clipping her wings and putting her in a strait-
jacket.
(To be Continued.)

Sir F. A. Gore Ouseley on the History of
Church Music.

[From the London Musical Standard.]
(Concluded from Page 171.)

This then was the way in which the old ecclesias tical melodies were treated before the days of Pales

trina.

Of course we know that they never ceased to be sung also in unison and octaves, and that there were some tolerably plain and decently correct harmonizations of them in the days of Josquin Desprès and his contemporaries. Still the custom was to prefer the complicated and artificial harmonies to which I have alluded, and in the elaboration of which no one displayed more skill than Josquin himself. With Palestrina there was introduced a much more simple and effective way of composing contrapuntal music on the old canto fermo. The melody was no longer smothered up in the intrica cies of its accompaniment, but was rather brought out, and invested with fresh beauty by being woven into a network of melodious part-writing. Nothing can be more pure and elegant than the Italian school of church music in the days of Palestrina and his successors. It was without instrumental accompaniment of any kind, and was analogous to the madrigalian style of the same period, though of course more solemn and sublime than any madrigal, so as

We have now followed the history of the musical
treatment of the old ecclesiastical melodies from
medieval times down to nearly our own days. And
the consideration which I wish to put before you as
a deduction from this history is this-May it not be
a very useful exercise for young composers to prac-
tice composing fugal music on ancient themes?
There is, as it appears to me, a growing tendency in
these days towards secularizing church music. I
mean making the style of music for the church and
for the concert-room almost identical. It has oc-
curred to me that one antidote to this tendency
would be to encourage all young musical students
to give much more time than they usually do to the
study of counterpoint on a plain song.
would compose worse secular music for having un-
dergone this training, while all who wished to write
music for Divine service would unquestionably feel
the benefit of such a course.

No one

All the greatest foreign composers np to some fifty years ago had been taught more or less on this plan, and it cannot be said to have produced any but good results in their case. If any one wishes for good examples of such music, I should recommend him to try and procure a copy of Padre Martini's “Esemplare di contrappunto sopra il canto fermo; " 4to., Bologna, 1773; and also Paolucci's "Arte pratica di Contrappunto;" 4to., Venice, 1762.

I now come to another consideration arising out of the history of ecclesiastical music. I allude to the use of various musical instruments in church. It is not intended, however, to take up the time of this meeting by reviving the old and well-worn controversy about the lawfulness of organs in churches. If any one here holds the view entertained mostly (if not exclusively) in Scotland, and in the Greek

|

Seeing, then, that there is Scriptural authority for the use of an orchestra in Divine service, but none for any particular instruments, and certainly none for the exclusive use of the organ, I think the consideration fairly arises whether those who object on Scriptural grounds to instruments in church, but make a special exemption in favor of the organ, are not illogical and inconsistent. The real question at issue is between no instruments and any instruments. The Greek Church and the Scotch Presbyterians are for the former plan; the Western Church for the latter. The exclusive use of the organ as an accompaniment to the voices in church is of very modern growth. Apparently it has arisen from two causes

1st, that organs are often available when a full band is not; 2ndly, That of all instruments none is so well suited for the purpose, when used alone, as is the organ; but neither of these reasons constitutes a valid objection to the employment of a full band, where such an accompaniment can be ob tained. It is, of course, obvious that such an expensive and troublesome appendage as a band of performers can only be procured on rare special occa sions. It is also no less certain that when it is available it must be hedged in with many precautions in special rules to secure reverent demeanor and good discipline. Still all this may be done, and has been done, and the occasions on which it can be achieved are daily becoming more frequent. St. Paul's Cathedral and Westminster Abbey have set a good example; several London churches have worthily followed suit. Nor can it be said to be an innovation. Every great composer in France, Italy, Spain, Portugal, and Germany for the last 250 years has left behind him full scores of orches tral masses, motets, cantatas, and hymns. Oratorios in Latin, Italian, and German, including Bach's Passion Music and many similar works, were all in

tended for performance in church, and as an act of worship. Nor have we been without instances of Church of England services with band accompaniment at the old Festivals of the Sons of the Clergy in St. Paul's Cathedral, and formerly also on the first days of the Triennial Choir Festivals at Hereford, Worcester, and Gloucester. Many compositions exist by old English cathedral composers, expressly intended for the use of the Chapel Royal, in which not only the organ but also a string band is employed. Among these we may enumerate works by Gibbons, Weelkes, Este, Purcell, Blow, Croft, Greene, Boyce, and others. We must especially remember Purcell's grand Te Deum and Jubilate in D, Handel's Te Deuins and Jubilate, and his Chandos Anthems, not to mention the anthems composed for the coronation service by Blow, Purcell, Handel, Attwood, and others, and the Funeral Anthems by Handel for Queen Caroline, and by Bononcini for the Duke of Marlborough, all which compositions were written with accompaniment for a full band, and so performed. We see, then, that the traditional use

dered into something better. Mr. MACKESON be-
lieved the great reason who so-called Gregorian
music found favor was because it met the growing
want of music for congregational singing, and he
urged that Church composers would do well to con-
sider the requirements of the great multitudes now
constantly assembling for Divine worship. Mr.
HULLAH in closing the discussion expressed his
strong sympathy with the use of the orchestra in
church, but questioned whether it had not better be
confined to strings. He regretted the disappear-
ance of the little bands which used to exist in parish
churches in the country. Church musicians would
do well to study Gibbons rather more and give us
less of the style of Gounod.

Prof. Paine's Symphony. - Shades of
Opinion.

and are perfectly balanced. There is an abundance of ciously displayed. There is not a moment in it when it fresh and flowing melody, and no lack of learning judiceases to maintain a firm hold upon the attention and the interest, and the immense success it obtained testified that Mr. Paine had won his spurs right royally.

[From the New York Tribune, Feb. 7.]

The matinée given by Theodorc Thomas at Steinway Hall on Saturday was memorable for the first production in New York of Mr. J. K. Paine's first symphony, and it and serious a work by an American composer was suffiwas gratifying to observe that the trial of so important cient to attract a respectable audience, in spite of the counter attraction of Tietjens in "Norma" at the Academy of Music.' It was by no means a full house, but there was at least a fair array of listeners, who bestowed upon the performance a close and intelligent attention, and greeted the symphony with unmistakable marks of approval. The work is in the key of C minor, and is scored for the usual instruments of the modern grand orches tra [piccolo excepted]. 'It opens with an Allegro con brio, the very first page of which disposes the listener to pleasant anticipations, not so much by anything start

[From the Saturday Evening Gazette, Jan. 29.] of the band in church has never been given up, al and his rare talents, long ago won for him the warm ad-ling in the theme as by the composer's evident mastery Mr. Paine's patient labor, his modesty, though its use has become exceptional of late years. As to military bands, of course, they have been used continuously to accompany military services, and no one has ever found fault with them. The miser. able string bands, and still more distressing clarionets and bassoons, by which the services in country churches used formerly to be accompanied, can hardly be quoted as an example to be followed. Still, even these have their force as an argument against those who would tolerate no instrument in a church except an organ, or its wretched substitute, a harmonium. Surely, the best rule is to seize on all that is most perfect, in this as in every other art, and devote it to the service of the sanctuary.

If I am right, then, in hoping (and assuming indeed), that the introduction of the orchestra into our churches is likely to become a more frequent occurrence than of yore, then we are brought face to face with a new difficulty-I mean the lack of good English church music at once orchestral and ecclesiastical in character. Of this there is comparatively, as yet, very little. Surely this opens out a new and promising field of work for young English composers, in which great things may be done. Let me earnestly recommend it to their special attention. It is hard to imagine any theme more inspiring, more likely to evoke real scintillations of musical genius, than the glorious "Te Deum." Difficult I allow it to be-difficult both on account of the intrinsic sublimity of the words, and also because of the natural diffidence which any modest composer must feel when he knows that his work will be compared to the "Te Deums" of Purcell and Handel. But neither of these difficulties are insurmountable. I abstain purposely from aming any living composers, but a very fine orchestral "Te Deum" has been composed, and performed, not in church indeed, but in the Crystal Palace, within the last few years, with no inconsiderable success. The other canticles and hymns of the church also present most favorable opportunities for similar, and equally successful, treatment.

These, then, are the considerations, arising out of the history of ecclesiastical music, which appeared desirable to lay before you to-day. That I have done this very imperfectly indeed, I am only too sensible. But such as it is, I am not without hope that this paper may be of some use. It is a subject which has not hitherto been broached at any of these meetings, and it is possible that subsequent discussion upon it may bring out some useful facts, some practical hints, some novel ideas, some necessary cautions, all in the service of our art, and therefore welcome both to ourselves and to our friends outside. In that hope, let me commend the subject to your best attention.

miration of those who know him, and these entertained
a well-grounded belief that if a fair opportunity were
accorded him he would win esteem for his country
among those who believe that nothing worthy in the
in America. It is somewhat painful to reflect that a
way of what is high in musical art can rise and flourish
native composer is almost debarred from hearing his
consideration that the only means he has of improving
works performed here, especially when it is taken into
himself in his art, and of discovering his strength and

both of his subject and his materials. Clearness of thought, elegance of arrangement, and vigor of expression are conspicuous from the outset. The principal and secondary themes are both clean cut and pleasing, and both admirably managed, and the transitions from one to the other, the modulations and the thematic developments, are contrived in all cases with a most happy efpared us for the faultless construction and the noble fect. What we knew already of Mr. Paine's work precontrapuntal harmony which are found all through this movement; but the easy flow of melody and the poetical taste in the instrumentation, especially in the employment of the wind instruments, were a constant surprise. The second movement is a Scherzo [Allegro vivace] in which we confess that we found hardly as much grace and playfulness as seem to have been apparent to the ablest Boston critics; but like the first movement it is clear, strong, and regular. About the beauty of the trio, however, in this part of the symphony, there can be no two opinions. It is introduced by an effective rallen. tando phrase for the clarinet, and then flows on [Meno allegro], as a dialogue, first between clarinet and horn, with a soft string accompaniment, again between flute, clarinet, and horn, afterward with the substitution of a hautboy for the flute. then with a second clarinet, endThe melody here is charming, and the sustained passage for the horns which leads back to the Allegro vivace is very effective, The third movement, an Adagio in Aflat, is the best of the whole work. The principal theme is a graceful and tender melody, which touches the feelings at once, and it is developed and varied with the most beautiful and ingenious harmonic treatment, unwinding itself slowly and smoothly at great but never tedious length, with multiform effects of elegant instrumentation. If Mr. Paine had written nothing else, this alone would stamp him a master of the orchestra. The Finale [Allegro vivace] is as vigorous as the introduction, and equally interesting, and it closes with a fine crescendo prssage, in which the full strength of the orchestra is admirably brought into play. The symphony is distinguished not merely by the beauty and fluency of detached portions. but by the symmetry of the whole, the breath of the plan, and the composer's firm grasp of his ideas; and these, we need hardly say, are distinguishing qualities of a masterpiece.

his weakness, lie in the chances that are given him to
hear his compositions played. An artist of Mr. Paine's
talents should not be so cramped. His symphony makes
that only ioo plain. While we do not claim for it a place
among the great works of its kind, it is so full of strength,
of vigor and of refinement; it shows such a mastery of
the resources of harmony and of orchestral effect; it i
so full of thought, brilliancy and solid worth, that it
merits the highest praise as a harbinger ef noble prom-
ise in its composer. It was a genuine surprise, even to
Mr. Paine's warmest friends, in the fluency of idea, the
freedom from dryness, the apparent spontaneous flowing with an ascending ritenuto phrase for the flute.
of thought, and the graceful flexibility of style, that dis-
tinguish it from beginning to end. Though pol shed in
all its details with the most scrupulous care, it has the
merit of keeping out of sight the labor that has been
expended upon it, and of making a harmonious whole
from which the attention is not attracted by any ob-
trusive display of learning for learning's sake. We
shall not attempt to describe the work in close detail,
convinced that, with the best intentions imaginable, it
is impossible to convey any intelligible idea of such a
composition without copious extracts, and these we are
debarred from giving, for reasons that will be obvious.
The opening movement, an allegro con brio, is full of
broad and masculine vigor, and seizes upon the interest
of the listener from the outset. The second theme is
very graceful in design, is charmingly introduced, and
is beautifully worked out. In the scoring of this part of
the work Mr. Paine shows not only a pleasing fancy,
but an appreciation of the quality and timbre of the

various instruments that results in an almost endless series of delightful effects. Every instrument has the notes best suited to it, and this distribution has been so well studied, and seems so natural, that any change would mar the admirable unity that prevails. In the wind instruments, especially, is this fiue sense of appropriateness of expression made particularly apparent. The scherzo opens with a playful and well-marked theme, which is elaborated with brilliancy and fine effect of contrast. The trio in this movement, a converconceived, and is treated on its second appearance with sation between the clarinet and horn, is very happily exceeding grace. The melody is charming, and the various figures by which it is accompanied are equally interesting. The adagio has a lovely theme, which abounds in tenderness and quiet beauty. It flows calmly and sweetly after the manner of those continuous melodies with which Wagner has made us so familiar, and it has much of the rich sensuousness that marks that composer in his more placid moods. In originality, warmth of coloring. largeness of effect and In the discussion which followed, Mr WILLIAM deep poetic feeling, this movement must be pronounced the most attractive in the symphony. It is exquisitely CHAPPELL entered into several of the historical ques- scored, and in all respects would reflect high credit upon tions raised by Sir Frederick, and Dr. STAINER ad- any living composer. The finale overflows with energy vocated the use of music, whether ancient or modand fire, and is a worthy culmination to what has preceded it. Here, as in the other portions of the work, Mr. ern, on the single condition of its fitness for the end Paine has manifested a fine feeling for contrasts, and in view. What could be more beautiful than the has shown a perfect mastery in combining the various tonus peregrinus? Mr. T. L. SOUTHGATE reminded instruments to the best advantage, The contrapuntal effects are striking and well-considered, and an admirathe speaker that this was not a Gregorian, but only ble unity and consistency are maintained throughout. a corruption from a Gregorian. Mr. CUMMINGS rid-The final climax is noble and stirring, and fitly brings to iculed the claim of a Divine origin which was often an end a work which, in every movement, shows many and unmistakable marks of vigorous and prolific genius. put forward on behalf of Gregorian music. He reThat the symphony is faultless we do not claim; but it ferred to certain experiences as suggesting caution is so far in advance of any similar production we have in the use of the orchestra in church. Mr. PAR- had from a native composer, its beauties are so numerRATT admitted that some of the ancient music was ous, so varied and spontaneous, that it would be more than ungracious to dwell upon the few flaws it possessmelodious, but explained what he regarded as an es. It is not the least of the merits of this work that, anomaly on the ground that, while generally writ while it takes advantage of everything that the modern ing that which was hideous, it could not be wonschool has given to musical art, it has avoided the wild dered at if the ancient writers occasionally blun- The forms are those of the recognized masters of the art, and meaningless excesses of the "music of the future."

[From the New York World, 6th.]

Mr. Theodore Thomas has a happy knack of confounding his enemies. He replies to their assaults by straightforward action, not by argument. As he has more than once reminded the public, he is not a man of words. Music is his language, and he knows that language so well that he rarely fails to make himself understood. Having a lofty purpose, and being persistent in its accomplishment, he makes his defence in his own way,

and there's an end of the matter. Charged with obstinately refusing to accept any compositions from American writers, he replies by producing one that he had accepted eight months before the charge was made. Having presented to him a work which he finds, on careful examination, to be worthy of a place in his repertoire, he gives the public a chance of judging and enjoying at the earllest convenient moment. Professor John K. Paine's First Symphony was fittingly presented before a Boston audience before it was brought to New York. It was right that the author should have his immediate and personal friends as his first judges. They decided enthusiastically in his favor, and that was right, too, for the professor of music at Harvard University could not very well be expected to seek notoriety by the production of a work which would not bear criticism by the rules he lays down for the guidance of his pupils. Himself a favorite pupil of Haupt, one of the most rigid of music masters in Germany, neither ignorance nor eccentricity was to be expected in his work, and, as he had already proved his capability in many minor compositions and in one great work, the oratorio of "St. Peter" -his friends were numerous as well as enthusiastic. Besides all this, had not Mr. Thomas consented to be the interpreter of this magnum opus? It was a matter of course, therefore [!], that it was correct, scholarly, ortho