Kitabı oku: «Continental Monthly , Vol. 6, No. 1, July, 1864», sayfa 15
CHURCH MUSIC
From the earliest Christian period of which we have any knowledge, music has been employed in the public worship of Christian communities. Its purposes are, to afford to the devotion of the worshippers a means of expression more subtile than even human speech, to increase that devotion, and to add additional lustre and solemnity to the outward service offered to God. Music has a wonderful power in stirring the souls of men, in (so to speak) moving the soil of the heart, that the good seed sown by prayer and instruction may find ready entrance, and a wholesome stimulus to facilitate growth. Now, it is the duty of all concerned in the ordering of public worship to see that the music employed tends to effect these ends.
In the year 1565, the composers of church music were in the habit of employing so many and well-known secular melodies, and of rearing upon them and upon their own inventions such complicated and unintelligible contrapuntal structures, that the church authorities took the matter seriously in hand, and there is no knowing what might have been the final sentence, had not Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina brought his genius to the rescue, and, in sundry compositions, especially in a six-part mass, dedicated to Pope Marcellus II., shown that science need not exclude clearness, and the possibility of hearing the words sung, and that the truly inventive artist has no need to seek his themes in inappropriate spheres.
In this day we run little risk of ship-wreck through too great an amount of science. Scarlatti and Bach would laugh at the efforts styled 'canon' and 'fugue,' by the aspiring tyros of the present age. Our difficulties arise, not from musical complexity, but from want of suitableness, adaptation, and characterization, together with the ever-increasing feud between choir and congregational singing. In some churches on the Continent of Europe, these two latter modes are happily blended, certain services or portions of services being left to the choir, and the remainder being entrusted to the entire congregation. Of course this arrangement is only practicable where there is a certain variety in the musical portion of the service. Where the singing of hymns (in the ordinary sense of the phrase) is the only musical form used in the worship, such differences would be difficult to establish, and a variety of circumstances must determine which of the two modes, or what combination of them, be selected by the congregation. Even where splendor is studiously avoided, all desire order and decency in the conduct of public worship, and such order is painfully violated where discordant sounds or unsuitable selections of music are permitted to distract attention and disturb devotion. A ragged carpet, faded fringes, or dingy window panes, would speedily find a reformer; and surely the sensitive, defenceless ear has as good a claim to exact order as the more voluntary sense of seeing. Better, indeed, no music, than such as binds the wings of the soul to earth instead of aiding them to fly heavenward.
The above remarks apply as well to choir as to congregational singing. Let us suppose now that the mere primal foundation—the mechanical execution—be respectably good; that the congregation or choir have been taught to sing in tune; that all be harmonious and properly balanced; in short, that the auditory nerves be spared any very severe shock—and what then will we ordinarily find? A few good old church melodies, almost lost amid a dreary maze of the most recent droning platitudes, or a multitude of worldly acquaintances, negro minstrelsy, ancient love ditties, bar room roundelays, passionate scenes from favorite operas, with snatches from instrumental symphonies, concertos, or what not! Music, as I have said, is even more subtile in its power of expression than speech, and the new words, which we may perhaps not even hear, can never banish from our minds the old impressions associated with the melody. The ears may even be cognizant of the holy sentiments intended to be conveyed, but the mind's eye will see Sambo, 'First upon the heel top, then upon the toe;' the love-lorn dame weeping her false lover, 'Ah, no, she never blamed him, never;' a roystering set of good fellows clinking glasses, 'We won't go home till morning;' Lucia imploring mercy from her hard-hearted brother and selfish suitor; Norma confiding her little ones to the keeping of her rival; or perhaps the full orchestra at the last 'philharmonic,' supplying the missing notes, the beginning and the end of some noble idea, now vainly struggling with the difficulties and incongruities of its new position, its maimed members mourning their incompleteness, its tortured spirit longing for the body given by the original creator.
Are we Christians then so poor that we must go begging and stealing shreds and patches from our more fortunate secular brethren? Has music deserted us to dwell solely in the camps of the gypsying world? If so, there must be some fault among ourselves, for music is a pure gift from God, the only earthly pleasure promised us in heaven. Such imputation would indeed be a libel upon the almost infinite variety in the character of music, and its power of consecration to the very loftiest ends. Ah! there we fear is the rub. The character of music! That seems to have been forgotten. If all these melodies be adapted to their original aims, can they be suited to new ones so different? Is there really in musical form, rhythm, melody, and harmony, no capacity for any real expression? Will the same tune do as well for a dance as for a prayer, for a moonlight serenade as for an imploration of Divine mercy?
Now we have no quarrel with dances; they are innocent and useful in their proper place; human love is a noble gift from the Almighty; we are not shocked by a good drinking song, provided the singers be sober; operas might be made highly instrumental in elevating the tone of modern society; and we listen reverentially to the grand creations of the masters; but, in addition to all these, we require a music adapted to signify the relations between ourselves and our Heavenly Father, a music which shall express adoration and love, praise and thanksgiving, contrition and humble confidence, which shall implore mercy and waft prayer to the very gates of the abode of omnipotence. Let such music be simple or complex, according to the thought to be rendered or the capacity of the executants, let it be for voices, for instruments, or for a blending of the two, but let it always be appropriate to the subject, and rise with the thought or emotions to be conveyed. Who can tell what would be the effect of such a church music? What a feeling of earnestness and sincerity would it not lend to services now often marred by the shallowness or meretricious glitter of their musical portions? The range is wide, the field broad; there is scope for grandeur, sublimity, power, jubilation, the brightest strains of extatic joy, mourning, pathos, and the passionate pleading of the human soul severed from its highest good; but all should be in accordance with the dignity of the personalities represented: on the one hand, the Father and Creator of all, and on the other, the weak, erring, dependent creature, made, nevertheless, in the image of his Creator, and for whom a God thought it no unworthiness to live, to suffer, and to die.
Have we any such music? Yes—a little; but that little is not always the best known nor the most frequently employed. Are there any composers now capable of writing such? Are the composers of genius, or even of talent, sufficiently earnest and devout? for here we want no shams. Each one must answer these questions in accordance with his own experience. The practical question is, What can be done toward an amelioration of the present state of affairs, not confined to this continent, but unhappily only too prevalent everywhere? Let the head of the musical department of every church service begin by weeding from his repertory all trash, whether profane or simply stupid and nonsensical. As the number of musical creations remaining will not be very large, let him retain for the present all that are not positively bad or inane; a few old song melodies have, through long usage, lost their original associations, and hence, though perhaps only imperfectly adapted to devotional purposes, are yet, on the whole, unobjectionable, and perhaps better than many modern inventions.
An idea seems prevalent that, to write words for music is an easy task, and hence the many wounds inflicted upon both music and poetry in their frequent union. When a melody is to be composed for a set of verses, the same melody to be sung to every verse, the composer naturally examines the general tone and form of the poem. These of course determine his selection of rhythmical character, of time, key, movement, etc. The melody is constructed upon the basis of the first verse. To the words embodying the most important thoughts or feelings, he gives the most important, the emphatic notes, striving to make the sound a faithful and intensifying medium whereby to convey the sense. His work is then done, as the same melody is to be repeated to every verse, and the end sought will have been attained if the poet have carefully fulfilled his part. But if he have introduced inequalities into his rhythm, or have given unimportant words the places occupied by important ones in the first verse, so that an emphatic note will fall upon an 'in,' or a 'the,' or some similar particle, the effect will be bad, and the result unsatisfactory to all concerned. Old association, or intrinsic beauty of poetry or melody may, in rare cases, render such blemishes tolerable, but the creator of a new work should strive to avoid all blemishes, and at least aim at perfection.
If to each good religious poem we possess, or may hereafter possess (be that poem psalm, hymn, sequence, litany, prayer, or form of doctrine), we could attach, or find attached, the musical form best adapted to its highest expression, what delight would we not experience in its rendering? Some such poems might, by reason of old associations, or of especial adaptation, be always sung to the same melodies, while to others might be accorded greater facilities for variety. This only by way of suggestion. The common practice of selecting melodies for verses, hap-hazard, with regard only to the 'metre,' of course destroys all possibility of any especial characterization. If the original 'marriage' have been a congenial one, a divorce, with view to a second union, rarely proves advisable. The same verses may bear another musical rendering, but the music will very rarely endure adaptation to other verses.
But we left our maestro di capella, our head of the music in any religious assemblage, weeding his repertory. A difficult task! for, to sound principles of discrimination he must add the best counsel and the widest information he can procure from every competent quarter, not narrow nor one-sided, but commensurate with the breadth, the world-wide diffusion of the subject.
We cannot hope for very speedy progress in this matter, so large a share of its advancement depending upon general, real and proper musical cultivation; but if each one interested will think the matter over seriously and intelligently, and do the little that may lie in his power, a beginning will have been made, which may in the end lead to grand, beautiful, and most precious results.
APHORISM.—NO. IX
Our Saviour says of life: 'I have power to lay it down, and power to take it again.' We have not such power in our own hands; but our Lord holds it for us, so that our position is independent of the world, and of the power of evil, just as His was; and as in His case He did resume more than He laid down, so will be given to us by the same Almighty hand more than any creature has to surrender for the highest objects of existence.
Such doctrine, I may add, is not, in its essence, merely Christian: it has been the common sentiment of our race, that one of the highest privileges of our being is to sacrifice ourselves, in various modes and degrees, for the good of our fellow men; and those who cheerfully do this, even if it be in the actual surrender of life, are esteemed blessed, as they are also placed above others in the ranks of honorable fame, and held to be secure of the final rewards of a heavenly state.
LITERARY NOTICES
Life of William Hickling Prescott. By George Ticknor. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1864.
There are no discordant voices on either side of the Atlantic with regard to the literary merits of William H. Prescott. Truth, dignity, research, candor, erudition, chaste and simple elegance, mark all he has ever written. His noble powers were in perfect consonance with his noble soul. His strict sense of justice shines in all its brilliancy, in his evident desire to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, of every character appearing in his conscientious pages. No current of popular prejudice, however strong, swerves him from his righteous path; no opportunity for glitter or oratorical display ever misleads him; no special pleading bewilders his readers; no 'might is right' corrupts them. His genius is pure, dramatic, and wide; his comprehension of character acute and clear; his characterization of it, chiselled and chaste; his ready comprehension of magnanimous deeds evinces his own magnanimity; his correct understanding of various creeds and motives of action proves his own wide Christianity; chivalry was known to him, because he was himself chivalrous; and we have reason to rejoice that the field in and through which his noble faculties were developed, was the vast and varied one of history. We doubt if any one ever read his works without forming a high conception of the character of their author, a conception which will be found fully realized in the excellent Life given us by George Ticknor. If no one is qualified to write the Life of a man, save one who has familiarly lived with him, who but Mr. Ticknor could have given us such a biography of Prescott? This advantage, together with the similarity of literary tastes, the common nationality in which their spheres of labor lay, their long friendship, their congeniality of spirit, with the mental qualifications brought by Mr. Ticknor to his task of love, renders his production one of inestimable value. It is indeed full of sweet, grave charm, and thoroughly reliable. In these pages we see how it was that no man ever found fault with or spoke disparagingly of Prescott—we find the reason for it in the perfect balance of his conscientious and kindly character. He was in the strictest sense of the words 'lord of himself,' mulcting himself with fines and punishments for what he regarded as his derelictions in his labors, compelling himself to pursue the tasks which he had determined to achieve. There is no more interesting record than that of his constant struggles to conquer the effects of his growing blindness, none more inspiriting than the results of his efforts. He loved and lived among his books; his last request was that his body should be placed among them ere it was given to the grave.
This delightful biography, which has been received so warmly, both at home and abroad, was originally published in an elegant quarto volume, illustrated in the highest style of art, and an edition was printed which was considered quite too large for the present times. But the edition was soon exhausted, and Messrs. Ticknor & Fields have now given us the Life in a 12mo volume, thus placing it within the means of all readers. We rejoice at this, because Prescott belongs to us all: while his life is dear to the scholar and lover of his kind, it furnishes some of the most important lessons to Young America. Such a man is a true national glory. We close our imperfect notice with a short extract from Mr. Ticknor's preface: 'But if, after all, this memoir should fail to set the author of the 'Ferdinand and Isabella' before those who had not the happiness to know him personally, as a man whose life for more than forty years was one of almost constant struggle—of an almost constant sacrifice to duty, of the present to the future—it will have failed to teach its true lesson, or to present my friend to others as he stood before the very few who knew him as he was.
"Virtue could see to do what virtue would
By her own radiant light, though sun and moon
Were in the flat sea sunk."
Sermons, Preached at Trinity Chapel, Brighton, by the late Rev. Frederick W. Robertson, M. A., the Incumbent. Fifth Series. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1864. For sale by D. Appleton & Co., New York.
The sermons of Mr. Robertson are very popular in England. They are remarkable for clearness and excellence of style, and earnestness of purpose. Many noble lessons are to be drawn from them, even by those who differ with the author on sundry points of doctrine. We wish, however, for the credit of theological exactness, that he had been somewhat more careful in stating the views of his adversaries. Referring to the use of indulgences, he says: 'The Romish Church permits crime for certain considerations.' The Roman Catholic doctrine as actually held is, that an indulgence is a remission of a portion of the earthly or purgatorial punishment due to any sin, after it has been duly repented of, confessed, abandoned, and restitution made so far as possible. It can consequently never mean a pardon for sins to come, as is often ignorantly supposed, and is apparently a reminiscence of the ancient practice of canonical penances inflicted on penitents.
Just now, when the entire scientific world is being convulsed by the attempted substitution of some inflexible law for a personal God with a living will, it is not strange that some phase of the same idea should creep into even the purest theology, and that in Mr. Robertson's theory of prayer we should find traces of the rigidity characterizing 'ultra predestinarian' as well as 'development' schemes of creation.
We cannot better conclude than by quoting the following passage from the sermon on 'Selfishness,' a home thrust to nearly all of us: 'It is possible to have sublime feelings, great passions, even great sympathies with the race, and yet not to love man. To feel mightily is one thing, to live truly and charitably another. Sin may be felt at the core, and yet not be cast out. Brethren, beware. See how a man may be going on uttering fine words, orthodox truths, and yet be rotten at the heart.'
Woman and her Era. By Eliza W. Farnham. 'Every book of knowledge known to Oosana or Vreehaspatec, is by nature implanted in the understandings of women.'—Vishnu Sarma. In 2 volumes. New York: A. J. Davis & Co., 274 Canal street.
This is a book which will excite violent criticism, and call forth opposition, as all new statements invariably do. Its author says it is twenty-two years since its truths took possession of her mind, and that they are as firmly grounded among the eternal truths for her, as are the ribbed strata of the rocks, or the hollows of the everlasting sea. Mrs. Farnham attempts to prove the superiority of woman in all, save the external world of the senses, the material structure of the work-a-day world. She regards the knowledge and acceptance of this fact as of vital importance to the order of society, the happiness of man, the development of his being, and the improvement of the human race. Her argument is not the sentimental one so often profaned in our midst. She traces the proofs of her assertions to the most profound sources, presents them in her acute analyses and philosophical arguments, and draws practical applications from them. She is sincere in her convictions, and able in her arguments; she sets up a high standard of womanly excellence for noblesse oblige, and teaches faith in God and humanity.
We have not space to follow Mrs. Farnham's argument: it would require a review rather than a cursory notice. She shows that there is an intuitive recognition of the superiority of woman in the universal sentiments of humanity, that man's love when pure assumes the superior qualities of the woman loved, that he looks to her to aid him in his aspirations for a better life than he has lived before; but woman never proposes to herself a reform from any gross or vicious habit by reason of her first lesson in love. The reverse is more apt to be the case.
In man the love of power is an infernal passion, because its root is self love; in woman, it is a divine impulse, connected only with the love of noble uses. Our author is no advocate for women's rights, there being two orders of human capacities, masculine and feminine. Man is master of the outer world: woman cannot cope with him there; her sphere is freer, deeper, higher, and of more importance to the future destinies of the race. This book will be sharply criticized by the clergy, pure and good men, but always hard on woman, although she keeps the lamp of faith trimmed and burning in the churches, believing her always a mere subordinate of man, and utter submission to him her chief virtue. The lady-killers and men of pleasure will scorn it, for it exposes many of their claims and vices, which they labor to hide with glittering veils of dazzling sophisms. Will our women read it? We think not. Mrs. Farnham treats of difficult subjects, with the freedom and innocence of an anatomist; but will our fair and shrinking students enter the dissecting room, even to learn some of the secrets of life?
We differ from Mrs. Farnham in many important particulars. We think she has made some errors fatal to the well-being of her system. But she has entered upon a new path, one in which there are indeed lions upon the way; she has advanced freely and boldly through its dangers; her aims have been generous and sincere; she has given the mature a suggestive and thoughtful book; and shall we not greet her when she returns with her hard-won trophies from the mystical land of earth's fair Psyches?
'O woman! lovely woman! nature made thee
To temper man; we had been brutes without you!
Angels are painted fair to look like you;
There's in you all that we believe of heaven!'
The Holy and Profane States. By Thomas Fuller. With some Account of the Author and his Writings. Boston: Little, Brown & Co. For sale by D. Appleton & Co.
A book from quaint old Fuller will always find its audience ready to receive it. It is only by contrasting his works with those of his contemporaries that we can do him full justice. He was an eminent historian and divine of the Church of England, in the stormy times of Charles I. and the Commonwealth. He made his first appearance as an author in 1631, in a poem entitled 'David's hainous Sin, heartie Repentance, and heavie Punishment.' He was much beloved in his day, following faithfully as chaplain the fortunes of the royal army. As a writer, every subject is alike to him; if dull, he enlivens it; agreeable, he improves it; deep, he enlightens it; and if tough, grapples bravely with it. As he was unwilling to go all lengths with either party, he was abused by both. The storms which convulsed the Government, had only the effect of throwing him upon his own resources, and he thus produced the various works which won the admiration of his contemporaries, and through which he still receives the gratitude of posterity, keeping his memory still green in our souls. The table of contents in the present volume is very varied, the chapters are short, and treat of familiar and home-like topics.
Familiar Quotations: Being an Attempt to Trace to their Sources Passages and Phrases in Common Use, chiefly from English Authors. By John Bartlett. Fourth edition. Boston: Little, Brown & Co. 1864.
The compiler of this book says the favor shown to former editions has encouraged him to go on with the work and make it still more worthy. The object has been to present the general reader with such quotations as he would readily recognize as old friends. The index of authors is a wide one, placing before us at a glance many of the names treasured in our memories; the index of subjects, alphabetically arranged, covers seventy closely printed pages, and is exceedingly well ordered. We consider such books as of great value, planting pregnant thoughts in the soul, and affording rich illustrations. We cheerfully commend Mr. Bartlett's excerpts. They are well chosen, and the binding, paper, and print of the book are admirable.
Arnold and André. An Historical Drama. By George Calvert, author of 'Scenes and Thoughts in Europe,' and 'The Gentleman.' Boston: Little, Brown & Co. 1864.
Mr. Calvert says, 'an historical drama being the incarnation—through the most compact and brilliant literary form—of the spirit of a national epoch, the dramatic author, in adopting historic personages and events, is bound to subordinate himself with conscientious faithfulness to the actuality he attempts to reproduce. His task is, by help of imaginative power, to give to important conjunctures, and to the individuals that rule them, a more vivid embodiment than can be given on the literal page of history—not to transform, but to elevate and animate an enacted reality, and, by injecting it with poetic rays, to make it throw out a light whereby its features shall be more visible.' A just theory and well stated; and in 'Arnold and André,' our author has subordinated himself with conscientious faithfulness to historic truth, and is always correct and dignified; but the imaginative gift of deep insight is wanting, and the fire of genius kindles not the heart of the stately record to reveal its hidden power and pathos.
History of the Romans Under the Empire. By Charles Merivale, B.D., late Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge. From the fourth London edition. With a copious Analytical Index. Vol. III. New York: D. Appleton & Co., Broadway.
Merivale's third volume commences with the proceedings upon the death of Cæsar, and concludes with the Imperial Administration, thus containing one of the most interesting and important periods of Roman history. Antonius, Octavius, Cicero, Cleopatra, Octavia, Cæsarion, Herod, Antipater, Mariamne, Agrippa, etc., make part of the brilliant array rekindled before us. We have no doubt that the readers of ancient history will gladly avail themselves of the opportunity to possess themselves of Merivale's work.
Selections from the Works of Jeremy Taylor. With some Account of the Author and his Writings. Boston: Little, Brown & Co. 1864.
Bishop Heber says, when speaking of the three great English divines, 'Hooker is the object of our reverence. Barrow of our admiration, and Jeremy Taylor of our love.' Taylor was a man of devout and glowing soul, of imaginative genius, so that, whatever may have been the prejudices of his times, the restrictions of his creed, his thoughts are still fresh and captivating, his quaint pages full of interest. He loved his Master, and his love glows through much of his writing.
He was an accomplished scholar, and in spite of his contests with 'Papists,' a kindhearted man. His biographer says: 'To sum up all in a few words, this great prelate had the good humor of a gentleman, the eloquence of an orator, the fancy of a poet, the acuteness of a schoolman, the profoundness of a philosopher, the wisdom of a chancellor, the sagacity of a prophet, the reason of an angel, and the piety of a saint, devotion enough for a cloister, learning enough for a university, and wit enough for a college of virtuosi.'
These selections are judiciously made, and will commend themselves to all readers of taste. It is a good sign to see Jeremy Taylor and old Fuller reappearing among us.
Poems. By Frederick Goddard Tuckerman. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1864.
Mr. Tuckerman has given us a volume of philosophically thought, tenderly and purely felt, and musically rhythmed poems. No roughness disfigures, no sensualism blights, no straining for effect chills, no meretricious ornament destroys them. The ideas are grave and tender, the diction scholarly, and if the fire and passion of genius flame not through them, they seem to have been the natural growth of a heart
'Hearing oftentimes
The still sad music of humanity.'
Thoughts on Personal Religion. Being a Treatise on the Christian Life, in its two Chief Elements, Devotion and Practice. By Edward Meyrick Goulburn, D. D., Prebendary of St. Paul's, Chaplain to the Bishop of Oxford, and one of her Majesty's Chaplains in Ordinary. First American, from the fifth London edition. With a Prefatory Note, by George H. Houghton, D.D., Rector of the Church of the Transfiguration, in the City of New York. New York: D. Appleton & Co., 443 and 445 Broadway. 1864.
This is, in the main, an excellent work on practical religion. From its fervent spirit and sound common sense, it came very near being such a one as we could have recommended for the perusal and attentive study of the great body of Christians in our country. Unfortunately, the author, by sundry flings at other Christian communities, and by the use of nicknames, as Quaker, Romanist, Dissenter, etc., in speaking of them, has restricted its usefulness chiefly to the members of his own communion, the Protestant Episcopal Church. To such, it will doubtless prove highly satisfactory and beneficial. A very few omissions would have procured for it the wide range of acceptance and power of working good to which its intrinsic excellence would then have entitled it. When will our religious writers learn that the great battle now is not among the various sections of the Christian camp, but with an outside enemy, indefatigable, learned, plausible, and every day gaining ground? Who can tell but that a careful examination of, and more accurate acquaintance with the principles and practice of divisions serving under the same great Captain, might dissipate many a prejudice, and reconcile many a difficulty? One of the first requisites is, that all learn to know and to speak the truth about one another.
