SECT. V.
XIV. I am ready however to confess, that there have lately been published some excellent compositions, both with respect to the pleasing elegance of their taste, and the subtilty of the art displayed in them; but by way of contrast to these, which are very rare, an innumerable quantity of others have been produced, that to the ears are insufferable. This arises, partly from people undertaking to compose, who are not capable of doing it; and partly from ordinary composers pretending to take licences, which should only be attempted by great masters.
XV. It fares with music at this time, as it fares with surgery. In the same manner, that every blood letter of middling ability, takes upon him the name and occupation of a surgeon, every organist and violin player, of reasonable dexterity, sets himself up for a composer. This they can do, with little difficulty or labour, for they have only to get by heart, the general rules of consonance and dissonance; and then, from the numberless manuscripts, or printed violin sonatas with which the world abounds, take the first light air which occurs, or seems pleasing to them, and apply the tone of that air to the words; and as the voice proceeds, they, by those general rules, go on covering it with a dry accompanyment, which contains neither imitation nor excellence; and between the pauses of the voice, they may introduce a burst of violins for ten or a dozen bars, more or less, provided that is the stile of the sonata from whence they made the theft. If they would content themselves with doing no more than this, we might be brought to endure their productions: but the worst of the evil is, that from an affectation of being thought superior to trivial composition, they introduce false concords, without preparing, or being able to resolve them, and by that means, make terrible blemishes, and commit faults, that are inexcusable; and because also, they see some illustrious composers, dispense with the common rules, and take liberties, such as writing two-fifths, or two octaves immediately following each other, which they do only for the sake of introducing a good passage, or to attain some excellence of harmony, and which, without taking such a liberty, they could not have effected: and although these never take such a latitude, but under particular circumstances, and subject to certain limitations; the others have the audacity to attempt it, out of time, and when it can answer no purpose whatever; by which means, they are thrown to the ground with such violence, that the stroke of their fall is shocking to the ear.
XVI. Middling composers, although, by endeavouring to tread in the steps of the excellent ones, they do not fall into such gross errors, generally form a music, which at some times is lifeless, and at others turgid. This is occasioned by their introducing accidentals, and changing the keys in the same piece; which method, if practised by great masters, who used it seasonably and opportunely, not only gives a greater sweetness to the music, but communicates to the words, a more striking impression, than they of themselves, without this assistance, could convey or produce. Some strangers had a happy talent at doing this; but no one understood it better, than our Don Antonio de Literes, a composer of the first rate, and who is perhaps the only one, who knows how to unite all the majesty and sweetness of the antient music, with the bustle and hurry of the modern; but in the management of the accidental points, he has a singular address, for almost every time he introduces them, they give an energy to the music, which is correspondent to, and strengthens the signification of the words they fall on. To do this, requires both genius and science, but much more genius than science. From this deficiency in point of genius, we find masters in Spain, of great knowledge and comprehension, who were not so happy as to succeed in this way; so that, although in their compositions we admire the subtilty of their art, their works do not obtain the approbation of our ears.
XVII. Those who are unassisted by genius, and who, on the other hand, do not possess more than a moderate knowledge of music, make false concordances, introduce accidentals, and change the keys, because doing so is the fashion; and because they are fond of having it thought, they know how to manufacture these sort of airs; although, in reality, they seldom produce any air at all; and notwithstanding their compositions are conformable to the common rules, still they are unsavoury, and disagreeable; and when they are performed in the church, instead of producing that sweet calm, and inward composure which are requisite to devotion, they excite perturbations in the hearts of the hearers.
XVIII. Between the first and second of these, there comes in another sort of composers, who, though in point of abilities, are above mediocrity, they for sacred compositions are the worst of all. These are they, who sport with, and run the changes, upon all the delicacies music is capable of; but dispose them in such a manner, that the melody produced, has the sound of pantomime airs. All the irregularities they practise, either in false concordances, or accidentals, are introduced as graces, but graces very different from those recommended by St. Paul in his Epistle to the Colossians: Ingratia cantantes in cordibus vestris Deo: instead of such; they are graces of banter, and harmonies of indecency; and are a sort of passages, the best of which, the musicians themselves call childish and apish. Are such proper for the church? Let them, in God’s name, be sent to the courts of the comedies, and the halls of the dance. But is it not an impious abuse, to introduce into the house of God, things which are trifling, apish and indecent? And is not the blending them with divine worship, an abominable error?
XIX. Is not this attempting to banish from music, all enlivening chearfulness, except that which savours of the puerile and buffoon? Music may be exceedingly chearful, and at the same time, impregnated with a majestic gravity, capable of exciting in the hearers, affections of respect and devotion: or, to speak more properly, the most chearful and delectable music of all, is that which induces a sweet tranquillity in the soul; collecting it within itself, and let us say, elevating it with a kind of extatic rapture, superior to the body it is attached to; that the mind may take a flight, towards the mansions of bliss, and contemplate divine things in a nearer point of view. This is the sort of chearful music, which St. Austin approved as useful in churches, and which he treated St. Athanasius with excessive severity for having objected to; because its proper effect, is elevating those hearts to noble affections, which are oppressed and weighed down with earthly inclinations: Ut per hæc oblectamenta aurium infirmior animus in affectum pietatis assurgat. (Lib. 10. Confess. cap. 32.)
XX. It is true, that the masters capable of forming this noble kind of melody, are very few; but those who can’t attain this degree of perfection, should content themselves with doing something less; taking care however, that their compositions should tend to excite such dispositions, as are suitable to divine offices; or at least being careful, that they should not conduce to promote inclinations of an opposite nature; and at all events, although it should be at the hazard of disobliging the multitude, to shun those skittish sort of airs, which have a certain occult relation to forbidden affections; but of the two evils into which church music is in danger of falling, that of its being offensive to the ears, is a less mischief, than that of its being an incentive to vice.
XXI. The power of music to stir the passions, and raise in the minds of men, dispositions to virtue or vice, is very well known. It is related of Pythagoras, that, having by music adapted to produce such an effect, inflamed the heart of a certain youth to a dishonourable amour, he afterwards, by changing the tone, reduced him to the dominion of continence. It is also related of Timotheus, a musician of Alexander the Great, that he could irritate the martial fury of that prince to such a degree, that he would seize on his arms, and put himself in an attitude, as if his enemies were in front, and he on the point of charging them. This effect, however, was the less surprising, because the natural disposition of the prince, conspired to assist the skill of the artist. Some add, that after having enraged, he calmed him; and caused Alexander, who never turned his back on any danger, to become a fugitive from his own rage. But what is told of the power of another musician, which was exercised on Henry II. King of Denmark, called the Good, is more extraordinary than all this; for it is said, that by a movement and touch, calculated to excite choler, he inflamed the rage of that prince to such a degree, that he fell upon, and put to death, three or four of his domestics, and would have carried the havoc and devastation still further, if he had not been restrained by violence. This was the more wonderful, because the king’s natural disposition, was gentle and peaceable.
XXII. I don’t imagine the musicians of these times can perform such miracles, neither perhaps did the antient ones; for these histories are not extracted from Holy Writ. It is however certain, that music, according as the melody is varied, induces in the mind a variety of dispositions, some good, others bad. With one we find ourselves moved to sorrow, with another to mirth; with one to clemency, with another to blood; with one to fortitude, with another to pusillanimity; and so on with respect to other inclinations.
XXIII. There is no doubt of the justness of this remark; neither is there any, that a master, who composes for the church, should dispose the music in such a way, and write it in such a stile, as is best calculated to promote the spiritual welfare of souls; and to sustain the majesty, decorum, and solemnity of divine worship. St. Thomas, touching upon this point, says, the chant was a salutary institution in the church, because it excited sickly souls, that is, such as were weak in spirit, to devotion. But, alas! what would the saint say, if he was to hear in the church some of the airs of these times, which, so far from fortifying the sick, enfeeble the healthy; which, instead of promoting devotion in the breast, banish it from the soul; and instead of elevating the mind to pious reflections, bring to the memory forbidden things? I repeat it again, that it is an obligation on musicians, and a very serious one, to correct this abuse.
XXIV. Truly, when I reflect on the serious turn of mind for which Spaniards heretofore were remarkable, I can’t help being struck with amazement, to find at present, that we can relish no other but puppet-shew music. This looks as if the celebrated Spanish gravity, was reduced to nothing more, than stalking stiff and erect up and down the street. The Italians, by means of the false flattering insinuation, that music has been improved of late days, have made us the slaves of their taste. I, for my own part, believe what they call improvement, to be ruin and destruction, or something very near it. All intellectual arts, of whose excellencies, the understanding and the taste, cloathed with an equal degree of authority are judges, have their points, or zenith of perfection, which when they are once arrived at, he who attempts to advance them, commonly occasions their decline, and puts them in a train, which leads to their destruction.
XXV. It will perhaps, with respect to the science of music, happen to Italy very soon, if it has not happened there already, just as it happened to it with regard to the Latin language, oratory, and poetry. These faculties, in the age of Augustus, arrived to that state of propriety, beauty, elegance, and natural energy, in which their true perfection consisted. Those who succeeded to that age, pretended, by the violent introduction of improper ornaments, to refine them; by doing which, they precipitated them from Nature to affectation, and from thence they afterwards fell into barbarism. The poets who succeeded Virgil, and the orators who succeeded Cicero, were thoroughly persuaded in themselves, that they had given new graces, and new excellencies to the two arts; but the keen Petronius Arbiter, after upbraiding them with their ridiculous and pompous affectation, told them very plainly, what in reality they had done: Vos primi omnium eloquentiam perdidistis.