IN MEMORY OF HARRIET RYAN ALBEE.
Like as remembered music long asleep
Within the heavy, o’erencumbered brain,
When touched by some remote, unheeded strain,
Returns as turning tides from ocean creep
Along the sandy flats, and fill again
All the least wrinkles and each minute bowl
Which in their ebbing had imprinted been,
And soon with mightier longing overroll
Their wonted, moon-drawn ways, and throb and swell
’Gainst the bared bosom of the happy earth;
So comes her spirit in the empty well
Of my dead heart, and overflows its dearth
With her all-perfect presence and the spell
Of love as strong, as sweet, as at its birth.
THE ROMAN RITUAL AND ITS CHANT
COMPARED WITH THE WORKS OF MODERN MUSIC.[112]
INTRODUCTION.
ON THE DIVINE IDEA.
The Divine Idea, the Exemplar or Pattern, in conformity with which the intellect and free will of man, and whatever is their combined work, finds its perfection.
All persons are familiar with the expression “beau ideal,” and in judging of matters of taste nothing is more common than to appeal to the standard of an “ideal”; as, for instance, the statue of the “Apollo Belvedere” would be, and is commonly said to realize, the “ideal” of the human form. Of course the ideal thus appealed to, as existing generally in the minds of persons of education, is nothing in itself absolutely certain or determinate. But, as far as it goes, it is a natural indication that the standard and measure of all perfection is an “ideal.” For we see that an ideal which is generally recognized and acknowledged by persons of taste and refinement does, in point of fact, come to be a standard, the authority of which is accepted to a great extent by others.
What is, then, in a measure true of an “ideal” subsisting in the mind of persons of education, as a standard of perfection, must be infinitely true of the idea of creation subsisting in the mind of God from all eternity. But as this leads to a speculative portion of Christian philosophy which can scarcely be deemed popular, and might perhaps give rise in some minds to the feeling “parturiunt montes,” if they found that an abstruse foundation had been formally laid only for the superstructure of a discussion upon plain chant, the few remarks that have seemed necessary to explain and justify the ground on which the ensuing essay proceeds have been collected together, and are here given in the form of an introduction, for the sake of burdening the discussion as little as possible with reasoning that does not properly belong to it.
All creation, according to Catholic theology, is the work of the ever-blessed Trinity. For only inasmuch as the Godhead subsisting in a Trinity of persons is for itself a perfect and undivided whole (κοσμος τελειος) can God bring into being a creation external to himself, without becoming himself the world which he creates.
To God the Father theologians assign the eternal idea, or the conception from all eternity of the idea or form of creation;
To God the Son, the realization of the idea of the Father, or the act of bringing created things into being out of nothing, in conformity with the idea of the Father;
To God the Holy Ghost, the bringing creation to its perfection through the period of its development or growth.
S. Basil speaks to this effect in the following passage: “In the creation I regard the Father as the first cause of created being, the Son as the creating cause, and the Holy Ghost as the perfecting cause. So that spirits, through the will of the Father, are called into actual being through the operation of the Son, and are brought to perfection by the presence of the Holy Spirit. Let no one, however, think either that I assume the existence of three original substances or that I call the operation of the Son imperfect. For there is but one first principle (αρχη), which creates through the Son and brings to perfection through the Holy Ghost” (De Spiritu Sancto, c. 16).
The work, then, of God the Father was the eternal idea of all creation; in the language of S. Gregory Nazianzen, εννοει ὁ πατηρ—και το εννοημα (idea) ἐργον ην, λογῳ συμπληρουμενον και πνευματι τελειουμενον (Orat. xxxviii. n. 9); and this thought or idea was a work brought into reality by the Word, and brought to perfection by the Spirit.
The eternal idea of creation is thus explained by S. Thomas, Summa, p. i. quæst. xv. art. 1 (Utrum ideæ sint):
“I answer that it is necessary to suppose ideas in the mind of God. Idea is a Greek word, and answers to the Latin forma, form. Whence by the term ideas we understand the forms of things that exist external (præter) to the things themselves. The form of a thing existing external to it may serve two purposes: 1. That it should be the exemplar (ideal) of that of which it is said to be the form, or that it should be, as it were, the principle of knowledge itself, according to which the forms of things that may be known are said to exist in the understanding. And in either point of view it is necessary to suppose ideas, as will be at once manifest. In all things that are not generated by chance, it is necessary that the production of some form should be the result of the act of generation. For an agent would not act with reference to a particular form, except so far as he was already in possession of the likeness of the form in question. In some agents the form of the thing to be produced already pre-exists in a natural manner (secundum esse naturale), as in those things which act by natural laws; but in others the form pre-exists in the intellect (secundum esse intelligibile). Thus the likeness or form of a house already exists in the mind of the builder, and this may be called the idea of a house; for the architect intends to make the house resemble the form which he has conceived in his mind. As, then, the world is not made by chance, it follows that there must exist a form (idea) in the mind of God, after the likeness of which the world was made.”
Quite similar to these words of S. Thomas are the statements of S. Augustine, Dionysius, and other fathers, who had to deal on the one hand with the philosophy of Plato, which taught that God created the world out of eternal matter, and according to an exemplar or ideal existing externally to himself (κοσμος νοητος); and on the other with the Gnostic Pantheism, which taught that the divine idea after which the world was created was identical with God, and creation consequently no more than an extension or manifestation of the Godhead.
Similar also is the following passage of the Abate Rosmini:
“‘Fide intelligimus aptata esse secula verbo Dei, ut ex invisibilibus visibilia fierent’ (Heb. xi. 3). What ever are these invisible things from which the things that are visible have been drawn? They are the conceptions of the Almighty, which subsisted in his mind before the creation of the universe; they are the decrees which he has framed from all eternity, but which remained invisible to all creatures, because these latter were not yet formed and the former not yet carried into execution. These decrees and conceptions are the design of the wise Architect, according to which the building has to be formed. But this design was never at any time drawn out on any external material, on paper or stone, but existed only in his own mind” (Rosmini, Della Divina Providenza, ed. Milano, 1846, p. 57).
Creation proceeds from the thought and will of God jointly exercised, and is something external to God, which he has brought into being out of absolute nothing, to quote Professor Staudenmaier: “The world is God’s idea of the world brought into being, and the perfection of the original world consisted in the fact that it absolutely corresponded to the divine idea” (Die Lehre von der Idee, p. 914). “Et vidit Deus quod esset bonum” (Gen. i. 10).
The creation which we see, and of which we are ourselves immediately a part, bears the appearance of being an organized system, far outreaching the powers of our intelligence; and we conclude intuitively that not only as an organized whole it answers to the idea of God, which contemplated system, order, harmony, and subordination of parts, but, further, that every several part, as it came forth from the hand of the Creator, was found good. In creation there are two principal parts, the material world and the world of spirits. Matter, from the first instant of creation, being without free will or mind, necessarily obeys the laws of its Creator, and at once absolutely answers to the divine idea. But spirits were created in the image of God, and were endowed with the likeness of his power of thought and will, and with a personality resulting from the possession of these gifts. To them, therefore, there is a moral trial or probation to be passed through before they finally correspond to the idea of their Creator. It is indeed true that from the instant of their creation they realize the divine idea, in so far as that idea contemplates them, about to enter upon probation; but their passing through this trial or probation to the attainment of their perfection is also contemplated, and of this perfection the divine idea is the exemplar or form.
Spirits, then, formed in the image of God, and endowed with created being, intellect, and will, in the present system of creation, pass through probation; and their probation consists in learning to possess these gifts in subordination to their Creator, who is absolute being, intellect, and will; and this trial is necessary to the perfection of their nature and to their passing into the possession of their permanent place (ταξις) in the great order and harmony of the universe. There is not, and cannot be, in the mind of God, any idea of evil. Evil has its sole origin in the rebellion of the created spirit when it refuses to possess and use its power of thought and will in subordination to the law and majesty of its Creator. And hence, although the rebel spirit answered equally with others at the first moment of its creation to the divine idea, yet, inasmuch as in its subsequent career it has placed itself against its Creator, it has ceased to answer to the divine idea; it has become a contradiction to it, and henceforward its existence is evil.
The case as regards the human creation does not differ at all in principle. Man is also a spirit, though his spirit be united to a body, and he is possessed of the same trinity of gifts—being, thought, and will—although from the circumstance of his coming into the world in the form of an infant, with his intellect and will in a state of germ, appointed to acquire their natural maturity only in process of time, his probation would seem to require a longer period than that of the angels, and to be subject to the fluctuation of rebellions, succeeded by repentances, and vice versâ—all which hardly seems probable in their case. Still man, like the angels, passes through his probation; and when he has passed through it, he is found either realizing the idea of his Creator, and happy, or fallen from it, and henceforward in contradiction with it, for an eternity of misery. The idea of the Creator is to man, as well as to the angels, the exemplar, or pattern, of his perfection.
Analogous to the first creation of the world is the second great work of God—the redemption or new creation. Its decree is from God the Father; the carrying into effect the Father’s decree is the work of God the Eternal Son; and the conducting it to perfection during the period of its growth and probation is the work of the Holy Ghost.
Nor is this work of redemption based upon any fundamental change in the eternal idea of God, after which man was created. The eternal idea of God is incapable of change, and the work of grace or redemption is the restoration to a state of grace of the whole race, which, in the person of Adam, fell into a condition of helpless although not total contradiction with the divine idea; and in his restored state of redemption the power has been again given to him of issuing out of his probation through the aid and guidance of the Holy Ghost, conformable to the unchanged, eternal idea of the Father.
To prevent misconception, it may be further remarked, in the words of Professor Staudenmaier, “The second creation (or scheme of redemption) builds itself, on the one side, on all that is indestructible in the divine idea of man, as intelligence and freedom, and at the same time labors to restore again that which was really lost by the original transgression, viz., the supernatural principle and the justice and holiness of life which stands in connection with it. Hence under the scheme of redemption man comes to the perfection of his nature, in the manner in which that perfection was contemplated in the divine idea (in der Idee gesetz war), viz., as the union of grace and free will (in der Einheit von Freiheit und Gnade).” (Die Lehre von der Idee, p. 923).
The divine idea, then, is the exemplar or pattern of perfection (προορισμος παραδειγμα, forma seu exemplar, das Musterbild) which, under the scheme of redemption, man is called to realize. And his term of probation, under the guidance and influence of God the Holy Ghost, is so constituted as to be the trial of both his intellect and will, which in man, as in God, are mutually co-operating and co-ordinate springs of action. But though in man intellect and will must ever move hand in hand and in mutual concert to determine his actions, yet it is possible for him to go astray through the special fault of one or the other, and to be found at the end of his probation not to be what he might and ought to have been, as well through some special error of the understanding as through some vicious act of the will. Hence, after that the sacrifice had been paid which purchased man’s restoration to a state of grace, God the Father, in the Son and through the Eternal Spirit, went on to provide the aid that was found absolutely necessary to protect the erring intellect and the infirm will, in order that men might be preserved in the state of grace, be guided in it onward to their perfection, and be furnished with the medicinal means of restoration in case they might fall from it.
To this end the great society of the Catholic Church was instituted by God the Son, and the command given to the Apostolic College to go forth to collect and organize it out of all the nations of the earth: “As the Father hath sent me, so send I you”; while the work of God the Holy Ghost is the invisible imparting of spiritual gifts to the baptized members of this society, according to the needs of their rank, position, ministry, and functions; and the whole work is directed to the end that man may issue out of his probation fulfilling and realizing the divine idea.
Now, as God recognizes, in the probation of man, the trial of both intellect and will, and wills that not without the free exercise of these he should attain the perfection of his nature, our first parents, in the state of innocence, would, from their then enjoying a communication with heaven, possess, perhaps, partly through intuition, partly from revelation, a knowledge of the divine Exemplar, into conformity with which they were called to bring themselves. But when man fell and lost the illumination of sanctifying grace, then the perception of the divine ideal would be obscured and would cease to exist, except in the way of the few mercifully-surviving glimpses of their higher destination, which the history of our fallen race seems to indicate were never wholly lost.
It must be obvious, then, that a clear and practical view of the divine Exemplar, which we are required to resemble, is as much the natural guide of the intellect in its probation as the view of the moral attributes of God is that which wins the heart and leads captive the will. It was, among other reasons, in order to place this Exemplar before us, that the Eternal Son became man, and thus laid before the intellect of man, in his own most sacred humanity, the incarnate Exemplar of that which humanity was to aim at becoming during the course and at the issue of its probation. And if a doubt could for a moment cross the mind as to the question, What is the likeness or ideal that a Christian, as far as the power is given to him, should seek to aim at bringing himself to resemble? it is answered by the fact of the Incarnation of the Son of God. He is the incarnate Exemplar, or Pattern, for our study. His sacred humanity absolutely answers to the idea of God the Father; and they who, through the aid of God the Holy Ghost, succeed in acquiring a resemblance to this incarnate Pattern, will be found at the issue of their probation so far to realize the end for which they were created.
The sacred humanity of the Eternal Son being now no longer visible in the same manner as in the days when he taught with his apostles in Judæa, the church which he has founded has come to supply his place, and, by her varied means of instruction, to bring the knowledge of this divine Exemplar home to the minds of all. In the words of an author quoted by Professor Möhler, the church is a continuation of Christ (ein fortgesetzer Christus).
And thus with the question of Christian song. The intellect must at once feel that it needs a guide, and cannot be safely entrusted to itself. Nor can this guide be any other than the divine idea. And here, of course, it would be a manifest impiety for a human mind to attempt to construct, à priori, an idea of music, and then to call its own work the divine idea; for the whole value of the inquiry that is to follow is built on the truth that the main features and the subsequently-detailed constituent parts of the divine idea, as they have been laid down, are what they claim to be; and so far as these are capable of being disputed, the comparison will of course fail of its effect. Professor Staudenmaier justly observes, in treating of the creation, “Both ideas, the divine and the human, stand in this relation to each other: that God realizes his own eternal idea of the world in the act of creation, while man has to acquire his idea of the world from reasoning and an experimental examination of the world as it exists after creation. As the idea, then, to God is the first, and the world last, so, on the contrary, to man the world is first and the idea last, as that, namely, which he has had to gain for himself, as the result of a scientific examination of the divine work” (Die Christliche Dogmatik, vol. iii. part 1, p. 42.)
But if it be possible for the human mind to obtain a view of the divine idea of the creation from the study of the world as it exists, it must be also possible, in an analogous manner, to gain a view of the divine idea of Christian music from the history of the church and the legislation of councils, from the doctrine of the apostles and fathers of the church, and, lastly, from the reason of the thing. The contrary supposition would involve the inadmissible alternative that our divine Redeemer, who had done so much to furnish our understanding with its needed measure of guidance in the fact of his Incarnation and his living example, has left us without any principle at all to serve as our guide in the choice and employment of sacred music. This cannot be. The divine Teacher of mankind cannot, for his mercy’s sake, have left us to ourselves in so important a matter, that so much concerns the adoration he has himself taught us to pay to his Father and the Holy Spirit. It must be possible, from his own sacred words, from those of his inspired apostles, from the doctrine of the fathers, from the history and legislation of the church, as well as from our own Christian reason and instinct, as has been humbly and imperfectly attempted in the ensuing inquiry, to gather a view of the divine idea sufficiently clear and intelligible, sufficiently trustworthy and decisive, to serve as a guide for the understandings of those who feel the deep and dear interest of the question and their own liability to fatal error, with all its destructive consequences.
And if the means of acquiring such a view be open, it need not be said how great a duty there is to search for it; and in whatever proportion there be ground for believing that it has been, even though imperfectly, attained, it becomes so far a duty—an element in our probation, as well as a sacred and meritorious work, by every tender, considerate, legitimate, and untiring endeavor, to seek to bring Catholic Church music into conformity with it.
I.
GENERAL STATEMENT OF THE BASIS OF THE COMPARISON.
It would be surely a superfluous labor at the outset of an inquiry which it is desirable should be as short and condensed as possible to prove, in a learned manner, the great practical importance of the question, What, under our present circumstances, is the wisest, the best, and the most effectual use of music in the Catholic Church? The œcumenical and provincial councils that have made ritual chant the subject of their legislation; the authors, such as Cardinal Bona and Abbot Gerbertus, subsequent to the Council of Trent, not to speak of those who lived before it, who spent their lives in the study of all that Christian antiquity has thought and written upon it; the line of illustrious Roman pontiffs who made it their study, with a view to the true direction of its use in the church, need but to be recalled to mind to place in its true light the exceedingly practical importance of any controversy which affects its efficiency or mode of employment in the Catholic Church.[113] Moreover, if there were no such evidence of the importance of the question at issue to be found in the history of the past, still the mere obvious fact that vocal music enters so naturally into all the feelings of humanity, and domesticates itself so easily in every people, would be sufficient to explain its importance. People in any society are so insensibly moulded by all that surrounds them, are so much the creatures of the system in which they move, and grow up so naturally in conformity with it, that in such a society as the Catholic Church, organized by a divine wisdom, with a view to the training and instruction of its members, it is simply impossible that an agency such as music, possessed of such power for good or evil, could ever be regarded with indifference, or that there should be no definite views with regard to it, and its employment be abandoned to the indiscretion and caprice of individuals.
A question of individual taste, then, the present inquiry cannot for an instant be considered. Indeed, from the moment it were thus regarded it would have lost its whole value. Persons are no doubt to be found who would take a long journey and pay a large sum to hear Beethoven’s music for the Ordinary of the Mass sung among the performances of a music-meeting, who, as far as music was concerned, and setting aside the miracle, would hardly care to go across the street to hear S. Gregory sing Mass with his school of cantors, were they all to rise from the dead. So that if music in the Catholic Church could for a moment be considered as belonging of right to the dominion of individual taste, further controversy, it is plain, would be so far quite out of the question. The tastes of individuals, if not only devoid of rule, still do not go by any rule sufficiently clear to be made the subject of a formal controversy.
But in the Catholic Church the question is not, and cannot be, one of individual taste. When the divine Redeemer called his church to the work of training every nation and people under heaven, and gave to it the gift of sacred song, to be used as a powerful auxiliary agency in their work, we are bound to conceive that there existed in his divine mind a clear and definite intention, both relatively to the end it was intended to accomplish in the midst of Christian society, and to its application to this end as time should advance.
Sacred song has certainly a mission to accomplish upon earth, as well as the proper manner of its application to its proposed end; and both alike have been, in common with the whole work of creation, from the beginning contemplated and intended by Almighty God.
Now, the end intended by Almighty God, in his work of redemption in this world, as say theologians, is primarily the manifestation of his own glory; and, secondarily, the re-establishment of order and virtue, piety and sanctity, in human society, with a view to the life to come, or, in other words, with a view to the true and eternal, as distinguished from the false and fleeting, happiness of his creatures. From whence it would seem to result that the true character of the ecclesiastical song and its true application will be that in which it tends, in its own proper degree, to become an auxiliary in the accomplishment of this great end. Nor is it a second or a third rate efficaciousness that should be deemed sufficient. For if Almighty God, as many theologians seem with so much justice to say, not from any external necessity, but from his own perfections, in virtue of which he is a law to himself, freely chooses only those means that are most efficacious to the end he proposes, so, in like manner, the Catholic Church, filled as she is with the outpouring of the divine Spirit, and called to the imitation of the divine perfections, cannot but in like manner feel constrained to choose that alone for her music which tends, with the best and most certain efficacy, to the attainment of the end which God has designed in the gift.
The foregoing remarks have, I hope, now laid the foundation on which the proposed inquiry may be conducted. And I think I may be allowed to say in the outset that an inquiry which has for its object to ascertain what that may be in music and in the manner of its use which answers best to the idea existing in the mind of God, unless it very much belie its pretensions and profession, may justly claim respect; and that the whole investigation is thus at once raised beyond the horizon of anything like human partisanship, as well as the sphere of those little irritabilities with which discussions upon music may so easily be disfigured. And without at all presuming that the views here advocated ought necessarily to be adopted, the inquiry is still not a valueless service rendered to religion, if it succeed no further than in impressing upon the minds of those into whose way it may fall the fundamental idea upon which it is built, viz., that the mission of sacred song in the Catholic Church is to realize, not the ideas of men, which may and do differ in each individual, but the idea of the merciful and good God, who gave it for his own purposes of mercy and benevolence.
And since the idea, as it subsists in the mind of God, relative to the use of song in the Catholic Church, is made the sole keystone of the whole inquiry, as well to guard an avenue against possible misconceptions as also the more clearly to lay the basis of the discussion, it will be necessary to state, at a somewhat greater length, what the divine idea of sacred song, in its first broad outline, may be taken to be.
Sacred song, it has been said, is to be regarded as the musical associate and auxiliary of the work of Christian instruction and sanctification in the church. It cannot be anything or everything that is luscious or pleasing in music; moreover, it is an idea that goes beyond the notion of mere tune or melody, or even of the richest combination of sound that art ever produced. Sacred song, in the divine idea, must be more than mere music. For though it be true that tunes and other works of art in music are so far things by themselves as to be capable of being written in notation, and thus preserved, still it seems impossible that mere tunes and mere music should answer to the divine idea of sacred song.
When music has ceased to be mere sound; when it has been taken up by the feelings and living intelligence of the human heart and mind; when these have wedded it to themselves, have created in it a dwelling-place and a home, and out of it have formed for themselves a second language and range of expression; when the charm of melody has become the organ of a living soul and an energetic intelligence, then there results the birth of an element of the utmost power for good or evil in the heart of human society; and it is in this power, Christianized and reduced to subservience to the church, that there may be seen the first outline of the divine idea of sacred song.
This principle is thus stated by Mgr. Parisis, Bishop of Langres:
“To preserve the true character of the ecclesiastical chant it is necessary to recall to mind the following essential maxim:
‘Music for words, and not words for music.’
This is not the principle of worldly music, in which the words are often nothing but the unperceived and insignificant auxiliary of the sound.
“In religion this cannot be, because articulate language is the essential basis of all outward worship, especially public worship. This is a certain truth of both reason and tradition. It is a truth of reason; for language, that marvellous faculty which the Creator has given to man alone, is exclusively capable of finding an adequate expression for a worship of spirit and truth. It is also a truth of tradition; for the Catholic divine Offices have always been composed of words either drawn from the Sacred Scriptures or consecrated by tradition and chosen by the church. It is superfluous to press the demonstration of a principle that has never even been contested by any sect of separatists and does not admit of serious doubt” (Pastoral Instruction on the Song of the Church, part ii.)
The three great social convulsions of France have given a remarkable proof of the above-mentioned power of song. Each called into being, and was furthered in its rise and progress, by a song, La Marseillaise, La Parisienne, and that whose well-known burden runs thus:
“C’est le plus beau sort, le plus digne d’envie
Que de mourir pour la patrie.”
Separate the words of these songs from their melodies, and the result would probably be the insignificance of both. But unite them, see them pass into the mouths and hearts of convulsed multitudes, observe men, under the delirium of their influence, march up to the cannon’s mouth and plunge themselves headlong into eternity, and we have an instance of what is meant by saying that music, united to intelligence, is an agent of nearly unlimited power for good or evil in human society.
This, then, is the sense in which sacred song is to be viewed as contemplated in the divine idea, viz., as the union of music with thought, feeling, and intelligence; in the words of the apostle (1 Cor.), I will sing with the spirit, and I will sing with the understanding also—not, of course, as taking the understanding out of its natural medium, language, but as clothing this its natural expression with a superadded charm, and a charm too, as will be afterwards seen, which has the gift of absorbing and, to a certain extent, of reproducing the idea annexed to it. The church music which the divine idea contemplates is that vocal song which Christian truth, in all its varied range, has appropriated, has taken from the sphere of music and wedded to herself, with the view of using the song thus associated to herself as the instrument by which she may pass into the mouths of men, and in this way find a home in their hearts. Analytically, then, in the sacred song contemplated by the divine idea, two separate elements are to be acknowledged—song and truth—but practically only one; for in practice they are indissolubly linked together, and constitute one moral whole, as body and soul together make up but one living being, to which, even more than to the sacred architecture of a church, the beautiful sentiment of the Ritual may be applied:
“O sorte nupta prospera,
Dotata Patris gloria,
Respersa sponsi gratia,
Regina formosissima,
Christo jugata principi.”
De Ded. Eccl.
Turning now, with this view of sacred song, to inquire what the Catholic Church possesses, after 1800 years of labor with the people of every variety of race and climate, in realization of the idea above stated, her various rituals, now for the most part withdrawn to make way for the beautiful Ritual of the Roman Church, present themselves to view. These rituals and their chant[114] have, we may be sure, at least in their day, been in the church the fulfilment, imperfect indeed and inadequate, as all that man does in this world necessarily is, yet still the fulfilment of the divine idea with respect to song. More cannot be necessary in support of this statement than the fact of the innumerable churches that have overspread Christendom, and the innumerable companies of saintly men whose lives were spent in the choirs of these churches—not, of course, to the exclusion of other duties and spheres of labor, yet mainly spent in the choral celebration of the offices of the Ritual and in all that accessory labor of musical study and tuition which the organization of a choir and the becoming celebration of the divine Office imply. The divine idea, in accordance with which sacred song has a fixed and determinate end to realize in the church, is the only way to account for this vast phenomenon in the history of Christendom. Nothing but an idea in the mind of God that sacred song is the living adjunct of the living truth, which the Catholic Church was sent to teach, could have had the power to call into being, not alone the rituals themselves and their song, but the innumerable choirs of Christendom which have been gathered together and governed by a more than human wisdom of organization for the purpose of their celebration.
Bearing in mind, then, that sacred song is the combination of music with the words of inspired truth, I propose, in the ensuing inquiry, to draw a detailed comparison between the Roman liturgy and its traditional chant, on the one hand, and the works of the modern art of music, which constitute the corps de musique, if I may use the expression now in use, adapted as they are to parts of the liturgy, and in their own way contributing to supply the want that is felt for sacred music; and this with the view to ascertain, as far as may be, from the result of the comparison, in which of the two the divine idea and intention is best answered and fulfilled. The human mind will not, and indeed ought not to, submit to any mere human idea, but ought willingly to accept the idea of God; and hence nothing but the divine idea, and this alone, is or can be the key to the present inquiry.
II
THE COMPARISON CARRIED INTO ITS DETAILS.
It has been already laid down that sacred song is the union of music to the words of inspired truth, with the view of its thus becoming an auxiliary in the work of Christian instruction and sanctification.
Before passing on to the approaching details let us stop for a moment fairly to consider the result of this principle as it affects the comparison generally.
Here, on the one hand, we have the Canto Fermo, with its vast variety of music, embracing an equally varied range in the stores of divine revelation, inasmuch as it is the counterpart in song of the entire Ritual; on the other hand we have the works of modern music, of which I am speaking, embracing scarcely more than a fraction of the Ritual. With a vast numerical rather than a real variety in point of the one constitutive element of sacred song—viz., music—they are poverty itself as regards the other—viz., inspired truth—the Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, and Agnus Dei, from the Ordinary of the Mass, and a small number of hymns, antiphons, and scattered verses from the Holy Scriptures, in the form of motets, being literally the sum-total of their possession in this element.
And now to carry the comparison into its details. The divine idea of sacred song could not have been known to us without a revelation, the very gift itself being, from its nature, the companion of a revelation. We are not, therefore, as has been remarked in the introduction, thrown upon our own natural powers of speculation either for our general knowledge of the divine idea itself or for gaining an insight into its constituent details; indeed, without revelation this would have been altogether beyond our natural capacities. But since God became man and founded his own society, the Catholic Church, and both taught himself and placed inspired teachers in it to succeed him, the ideas of God as to questions that concern the welfare of his church have, through the Incarnation of the Son, been brought to the level of our capacities, and are to be found in the Scripture and in Christian theology, and are there to be sought for as occasion may require. Thus examined, then, by the light of the Christian revelation, the divine idea of sacred song will, without urging that these are co-extensive with it, admit of being resolved into the ensuing points; the truth of which will be proved separately, as they come forward successively in the course of the comparison. They are as follows:
I. Authority: 1, ecclesiastical; 2, moral.
II. Claim to the completeness and order of a system.
III. Moral fitness: 1, as a sacrificial song; 2, as a song for the offices of the church.
IV. Fitness for passing among the people as a congregational song.
V. Moral influence in the formation of character.
VI. The medium or vehicle for divine truth passing among the people.
VII. Medicinal virtue.
VIII. Capacities for durable popularity.
IX. Security against abuse.
X. Catholicity, or companionship of the Catholic doctrines over the globe.
Upon these, then, the comparison may be now conducted.
TO BE CONTINUED.