“But in his youthful breast glowed a spark of the god-like, which soon rose to a flame that illumined the night around him! Palestrina discovered what, in a time of universal degeneration, may not be taught; he discovered what was wanting—what must be done; and yet more—the means to remove the evil! In himself he bore from the beginning, the good and the beautiful, which he was to set up in place of the corrupt and the repulsive. Thus equipped, courageous, but without presumption, conscious, but void of self-complacent vanity—he entered the arena of contest; thus he ventured to gainsay Pope Marcellus II. and his cardinals, who wished all music banished from the church; and through his Missa Papae Marcelli, he not only reformed music, but gave the first inducement to make it a substantial part of the Romish service.
“His efforts, his work found appreciation; yet for a long and melancholy time, the reward seemed uncertain. Palestrina had been singer in the Popish chapel; he lost this place; for, following his human, honorable heart—he married. His marriage, as appears from his letters, was so displeasing to the Holy Father, that Palestrina was on the point of quitting Rome, having lost, with his place, the means of subsistence. Fortunately, some true friends of art espoused his cause; he obtained another situation in Saint John Lateran; at a later period he was chapel-master at Santa Maria Maggiore. He founded an excellent school, produced immortal works, and ended the fair labor of a useful life as chapel-master at Saint Peter’s, the second of February, 1594.
“The simple, quiet life of this great man, has always possessed deep interest for me; and it has often occurred to me to represent to the public, in the form of a Tale of Art, that important period in which he saved Music from the ban which hung over her. But I have relinquished the idea; for in Palestrina’s life, as in his works, there seems nothing made up. All lies before us so simple, so noble, so sun-like clear, that it would be quite impossible by aid of the most ingenious fiction, to paint it more lovely and elevated than is the plain reality. The greatest poets, Goëthe particularly, have felt this at times powerfully; and have often given unadorned, the simple relation of facts, touching enough, indeed, to dispute the pre-eminence with all their fictions.
“In Palestrina’s works, reigns the purest church-style; no other master has come nigh him, in this respect. Loftiness, strength, and wildness, form the character of his music, which fills the heart with devotion, and bears it upward to God, free from the chains of earth, and all that claims earthly emotion.
“It is undeniable that all church-music should have this only aim—to lift the spirit to devotion—to God; according to the word of holy writ—which commands all those who come into the presence of the Lord, to come with a pure heart and holy thoughts.
“The more recent church-composers have not followed this noble aim! Latterly, even in Italy, the pure style has declined, and how much may be shown by the circumstance that the Italians, even towards the close of the last century, admired Jomelli as a great church-composer! The German style was never so pure as Palestrina’s, because it was not so natural and unconstrained. Palestrina’s simplicity was harshness with Sebastian Bach; the strict German rules point out, now and then, by far more what is prohibited, than what is permitted, and even demanded. Händel, in his Messiah, Mozart, in his Requiem, broke the fetters, and soared upward, powerful eagles, towards the sun; yet without losing sight of the laws they acknowledged as just and necessary. Haydn, in his Messen, is less conscientious; his creation belongs, beyond dispute, only to the concert hall. But in the most recent times, what appears written for the church, can only fulfil the smallest part of those claims justly advanced by the restorer of church music. And in this point of view, I regard as quite objectionable, those oratorios of Friedrich Schneider, in which the ‘God be with us,’ has the principal part, and is accompanied by flageolet, kettle-drum, trumpet, and bass trumpet.”
“They will cry out against this judgment of yours, my dear Johann,” said Alexander, “but you are right! and it is abominable, that in our most stirring, grand, spiritual music, Satan has the word! But that is the mischief of imitation among the Germans! I am sure Friedrich Schneider would, in every respect, have done something excellent, as he has really done in so many respects, had not his first appearance been at the time when the people were all enthusiasm about Weber’s ‘Volks Oper.’ As highly as I honor Schneider’s great talent, much as I esteem him for a worthy man, I must blame him severely, that he has suffered himself to be carried away by the intoxication of a theatrical public, and led to produce works which, in spite of splendid things in them, can yet be regarded on the whole, (as well in an artistical view, as if we look upon their tendency,) only as changelings! Nay, I scarce suppress the wish—unkind enough! that Schneider might be, for once, condemned to hear, from beginning to end, the oratorio of a certain Mr. H——, ‘Christus der Erlöser.’ This H——, inspired by the laudable wish of becoming, in the shortest possible time, a rich man and a famous composer, set himself to work and patched together this affair; in which he not only pilfered to his heart’s content from poor Schneider, but imitated and twisted him so after his fashion, that his oratorio seems a horrible caricature of all Schneider’s oratorios. Where Schneider employed one bass trumpet, master H—— would have three! Satan tunes up—the flageolets fall screeching in, and the tutti of the infernal chorus follows with frightful clamor. In 1833 the composer brought his astonishing work to Leipzig to be represented, to the great delight of the assembled auditory!”
“No more,” said Johann; “no more of the man and his pitiful efforts! let us turn to nobler, more exalted objects! How much I regret that I could not be present at the representation of the ‘Paulus’ of Mendelsohn Bartholdy! I am assured by a connoisseur, that Felix has here followed the path by which Händel reached the crown of immortality; nor could he praise sufficiently the wise moderation with which the youthful master, spite of his enthusiasm, has shunned all exaggeration in his work. Mendelsohn Bartholdy,” concluded he, “is able and sound to the core; so that we have ground to hope that a true man shall arise in him, to show us the path by which we may return, through the ancient simplicity, to the ancient glory!”
“Heaven grant it!” cried Alexander, fervently; “it cannot well be worse with us! Yet a life-impulse, too fresh and glad, is stirring in Art, for us to fear her death. She will not die! and let it only happen that the young aftergrowth may find a model not too far removed from them; for youth ever joins himself most willingly to the nearest.
“Will Felix become this model? I know not; but I hope so, as I wish it; and wish, also, that no young artist may ever forget—‘That he who would become a great artist, must first be a pure and true man.’”