Many of the songs and prayers in the Syrian liturgy, ascribed to St. Ephraem are spurious. It is related that at the first interview between him and St. Basilius, the former was endowed by the Holy Ghost with sudden power to speak Greek, and the latter Syriac, thus giving them a choice of languages in which to converse.

It is impossible to give a thorough account of the music of the Syrian Church, as although the first instruments mentioned in the Bible (the taboret, a tambourine held in one hand and struck with the other, and Kinnor, a seven stringed triangular harp) are Syrian, yet the people have never, from time immemorial, written down their melodies, but always handed them down orally, father to son, or teacher to pupil.

The mass in Syrian liturgy, is very different in its form, from the Catholic: there is neither Kyrie Eleison, Gloria, nor Epistle, contained in it.

There are two distinct sects in the Syrian church; the first Ephraemitic, or followers of the Orthodox saint; the second, heretical and followers of Jacob Baradaeus, a Syrian monk of the sixth century. These are called Jacobites, and hold Eutychian doctrines.

The music of the latter is ornamented to excess; that of the Ephraemitic rite nobler and plainer.

THE ARMENIAN CHURCH.

The rise of Christianity among the Armenians, goes back to the third century, but they early developed the doctrines of Eutychius, and the Monophysites. At times, portions of the Armenian church have adhered to the Western church, but in its rites it far more resembles the Eastern Greek church. The language is well adapted for song.

Their most ancient religious songs were written by Sahac, the great Katholicos, or patriarch of the church; the psalms were sung by them to popular melodies.

THE CHURCHES OF AFRICA.

St. Mark is considered as the Apostle of Egypt and founder of the church of Alexandria; the liturgy used by this church is said to have been written by him; but many manuscripts exist which point to St. Basilius as its author, and it bears internal evidence that St. Mark could not have written it, for among the prayers for the dead, it names many saints, martyrs, bishops, etc., including St. Mark.

The songs of the early Christians here, as throughout the Orient, were hymns, psalms, and anthems of which the melodies were taken from the popular music of the day.

The Coptic church in its liturgy entirely resembled the Greek church of Egypt, and in looking over its ritual, one continually meets with translations of the liturgies of St. Basil, St. Cyrille, or St. Gregory Nazianzen. In the National Library, of Paris there is also a Coptic translation of the Liturgy of St. Mark.

The music of the Coptic church is very much embellished, and of inordinate length; for, owing to the practice of the singers to vocalise upon one syllable sometimes to the length of several minutes[245] the vespers alone, often attain the length of four or five hours.

As the rules of worship of the Copts do not allow them either to kneel or to sit down during services, they are obliged to support themselves by placing under their arm-pits, a long crutch, in order not to drop from fatigue.

This race is degenerating fast, and will soon disappear under the despotic sway of the Arabs. Their number is about one hundred and fifty thousand. Few of them understand the Coptic language, and although part of the service is sung in that tongue, it is usually afterwards explained in Arabic. Their modulations in singing are very bold, constant, and fatiguing; so much so, that long before the end of the song, all remembrance of any key-note, is lost.

All writers agree in speaking of their music, as tiresome in the extreme. This proceeds from three causes;—their extraordinary length, their insignificant melody, and the constant repetition of the syllables and vowels of a single word, whereby it is made almost impossible to follow the sense of the text. This fault is not confined to the Coptic sect only, but is largely found in the Greek church throughout the Orient. Fetis gives a strong example of one case, taken from an Eastern Hymnal, it runs as follows,—

Aga-a-a-a-a-a-aate-e-e-e-e mara ky-y-y-ri-i-i-i-i-ou.

Each of the vowels is given separate from the others, and the effect is ludicrous in the extreme. The Copts do worse than this; after mincing a word into such minute fragments, they go back and re-mutilate the first syllable, then again the second, then perhaps the first two, and so on for a long time before they give the word complete like the Syrians.

The Copts have no musical notation whatever, and it is a most curious fact in music, that they should be able to recollect such lengthy songs, devoid of any apparent melody, or sequence, and hand them down traditionally, from generation to generation; they must possess either phenomenal memories, or an insight to a connection of ideas in their songs, which has escaped European perception. These remarkable descendants of the ancient Egyptians, hate other Christian sects with much more fervor than they do the Mohammedans.

Of the Abyssinian Church we have already spoken, (see chapters on “African Music”);—there is little more to add. They have different modes of singing for different grades of sacred festivals. Responses made by the people or the choir, enter largely into their mass. The number of choristers is from eight to twelve, and they have all powerful voices; this is in fact a prime necessity, as at the door of the church, during service, a constant din of drums, cymbals, and sistrums is kept up.

On certain days, the priests and people have a grand religious dance, to the sound of these instruments, while the chorus sing a litany and all mark the time by a clapping of hands.

GENERAL SYNOPSIS OF EARLY CHRISTIAN MUSIC.

That the art of music was esteemed among the more educated of the early Christians is very strongly shown by a fresco in the cemetery of Domitilla (in Rome). This painting which seems to be of the first or second century of our era, represents Christ as Orpheus, charming all nature by his music.[246] It is probably only an allegorical figure, representing his divine gifts, but the figure must be a shock to all who are accustomed to see the face of Jesus, as drawn by the Leonardo da Vinci. Instead of the meek and beautiful form, we see here a lank loosely-built young man, sitting in a very uncomfortable attitude, on a rock, and twanging away at a four-stringed lyre.

Regarding the origin of the present pictures of Christ (although not strictly belonging to our subject) we are tempted to make the following remarks.

It is believed by some scholars that the head of Christ was first copied from the statue of Jupiter (or the Greek Zeus), which was, in the early centuries regarded as the most perfect model of manly beauty. It is scarcely to be doubted that the general model of the Pagan sculptures was followed in the early representations of the Saviour. But the style of portraits was altered in consonance with the description handed down by good authorities.

A brass medal with a head of Christ on one side, was discovered in 1702, in some Druidical ruins, at Aberfraw, Wales, which although of a later era than that assigned to it, is of great antiquity, and coincides with the pictures of to-day.

There exists a letter ascribed to Publius Lentulus and directed to the emperor Tiberius, which describes Jesus. Although it is apocryphal, yet it was certainly written in the days of the primitive Christians. It is translated as follows,—[247]

“There hath appeared in these, our days, a man of great virtue, named Jesus Christ, who is yet living among us, and of the Gentiles, is accepted as a prophet, but his disciples call him the Son of God. He raiseth the dead, and cures all manner of diseases; a man of stature somewhat tall and comely, with very reverend countenance, such as the beholders both love and fear; his hair the color of chestnut, full ripe, plain to his ears, whence downward it is more orient, curling and waving about his shoulders.”

“In the midst of his head is a seam or partition of the hair, after the manner of the Nazarites; his forehead plain and very delicate; his face without a spot or wrinkle, beautified with the most lovely red; his nose and mouth so formed that nothing can be reprehended; his beard thickish, in color like his hair, not very long but forked; his look innocent and mature, his eyes gray, clear, and quick. In reproving he is terrible; in admonishing, courteous and fair spoken; pleasant in conversation mixed with gravity.”

“It cannot be remarked that any one saw him laugh, but many have seen him weep. In proportion of body, most excellent; his hands and arms most delicate to behold. In speaking, very temperate, moderate and wise. A man for his singular beauty, surpassing the children of men.”

From this letter of the predecessor of Pontius Pilate (?) the two earliest known portraits of Christ (in the Calixtine and Pontine catacombs at Rome) were probably sketched and the model has been followed up to our day.

But there is another description, by St. John of Damascus, which is much more in keeping with the Jewish type, of which he supposes the Saviour probably may have had some trait.

According to him, Christ had beautiful eyes, but the eyebrows meeting; a regular nose, flowing locks, a black beard, and a straw colored complexion, like his mother.

CHAPTER XXI.
THE AMBROSIAN AND GREGORIAN CHANT.

St Ambrose, the first real reformer in the music of the Christian Church, was born A. D. 333, probably at Treves, where his father who was prefect of Gaul, often resided. He is said to have received an auspicious omen even in his cradle; a swarm of bees alighted upon him during his slumber, and the astonished nurse saw that they did not sting him, but clustered around his lips; his father, remembering a similar wonder related of Plato, predicted a high destiny for his son. He was therefore, thoroughly educated in his youth, and soon was sent with Satyrus, his brother, to Milan to study law.

He soon became so eminent in this profession, that he was appointed (A. D. 369) prefect of upper Italy and Milan. In A. D. 374 he was unanimously, and against his will, chosen bishop of Milan.

Once in the chair, however, he ruled with vigor and great sagacity, making numerous and necessary reforms in church regulations and discipline.[248]

We shall only follow his musical career. Unfortunately, although there are some remains in the Milanese church-chant of to-day, we have but little proof of the nature of his reforms. That it was deeply impressive we have the testimony of St. Augustine who eulogises, without accurately describing it,[249] but it is certain that his reforms were founded in part upon the Greek music, and that in the Gregorian and Ambrosian chants of the church, we have a legitimate descendant of the ancient Greek music. The reader must remove one impression from his mind; the music of the early Christians, though certainly crude, was by no means simple; on the contrary, it contained many flourishes and rapid embellishments, most of which were of oriental origin. The reform was in the nature of simplicity, and added dignity to a service, which already, in its words, possessed beauty and poetry.

He cast aside much of the cumbrous nomenclature of the Greek modes, and retained of them only what was beautiful and easily comprehended. He did not aim at any sweeping reform, as is evident from his letter to his sister St. Marcellina, wherein he says that he is endeavoring to regulate the mode of singing the hymns, canticles and anthems in his own church,[250] and St. Augustine[251] says that it was done after the manner of the churches of the Orient.

The modes which he chose for his compositions were the following:—

It will be seen that the semi-tones are immovable, and therefore occur in different positions in each mode, by the change of the key-note; being respectively,—

It was this distinction which gave to each mode its peculiar character.

Not only did St. Ambrose reinstate these modes, but he composed many beautiful compositions in them. Many of the so-called Ambrosian chants and hymns, were not written by him, but after his manner; but some ten of the ancient hymns, including “Veni Redemptor Gentium,” “Eterna Christi munera,” etc., are from his own pen.

The Cathedral of Milan still uses Aeterne rerum conditor; Deus Creator omnium; Veni Redemptor omnium; Splendor Paternæ gloriæ; Consors paterni luminis; and O Lux Beata Trinitas.[252]

Some of these are of rare beauty, and remain as monuments of the cultivated taste of this pioneer in church music. The composition of the “Te Deum Laudamus,” has been ascribed to St. Ambrose, and St. Augustine; but it was composed nearly a century after their death. Among other persons to whom this beautiful production has been assigned, may be mentioned St. Hilary, St. Abundius, St. Sisebut, and St. Nicat; but it may be safely affirmed that its real author has never been discovered.

The greatest boon bestowed on the church by St. Ambrose was the rhythmical hymn, mentioned above, all of which, and many others he wrote for the Cathedral which he built at Milan.

“The entire accent, and style of chanting as regulated by him, was undoubtedly an artistic and cultivated improvement on that of preceding church services, such as would naturally result from the rare combination of piety, zeal, intellect, and poetical and musical power by which he was distinguished.” The Ambrosian chant was eventually merged, but certainly not lost in that vast repertory of plain song, (whether then ancient or modern,) which we now call Gregorian, from the name of the next great reformer of church music, St. Gregory the Great.[253] St. Ambrose died A. D. 397; it was but a short time afterwards that the great invasion of the northern barbarians took place. The history of the vicissitudes of the ecclesiastical music, during the general disruption of Europe and the western civilization, which followed, can only be imagined; but scarcely had a calm been re-established, when, at a period when the reforms and inventions of St. Ambrose had not been vitiated or lost, the great reformer of church music arose, and re-instated the art upon a firmer pedestal than ever.

Gregory, the Great, born about A. D. 540, and pope from September 3, 590, to March 12, 604, was of an illustrious Roman family. His father Gordianus, was a senator, and Felix III., one of the early pontiffs, was among his ancestors. He was one of the most remarkable, zealous, and intelligent of the fathers of the church.

We have here only to follow his musical work, but in every branch of work connected with his church, he was most eminent. He founded six monasteries in Sicily alone. He voluntarily resigned an honorable office, to leave the world, and seek retirement in the monastery of St. Andrew, which he himself had founded at Rome. On this occasion he gave to the poor all his wealth, and declining the abbacy of his own convent, began with the ordinary monastic life, about 575.

He wished to attempt the conversion of the Britains, (moved thereto by the well known incident of seeing some beautiful Anglo-Saxon youths exposed for sale in the Roman market place), but was prevented by the clamor of the populace who refused to lose him. Like St. Ambrose, he was called to office entirely against his will, and, on being made pontiff, he seems to have excelled in every department of his administration; thus much, to show that music was but one of the fields in which this wonderful man exercised his talents.

He collected the available church music, he added to it by composing new hymns and anthems, he arranged them for the various special days of the year, he invented or amplified the system of ecclesiastical composition, and took care that the reforms should be permanent, by having most things relative to his musical labors, written out in a lasting manner.[254]

These reforms he began about A. D. 599. He did not discard the four modes of St. Ambrose, but rather extended them; and yet (through the great personal popularity of St. Ambrose), the Milan Cathedral kept the Ambrosian chant unadulterated, for centuries after the establishment of the Gregorian.

As late as the latter half of the fifteenth century, Franchinus Gafor speaks of the Gregorians and Ambrosians as partizans. Of course, in order to secure uniformity, the rulers of Europe, sought to dwarf the workings of the Ambrosian system, and Charlemagne even ordered the Ambrosian books to be burnt. Although, as above stated, there was nothing antagonistic in the two systems, yet their musical results seem to have had a material difference, for Radulf of Tongern an unimpeachable witness of the fourteenth century, who heard both methods in their purity, says that he found the Ambrosian chanting, widely different from the Roman (Gregorian); the former being strong and majestic, while the latter was sweet-toned, and well arranged.[255] This distinction is utterly meaningless to us, for the Gregorian chant is certainly majestic and strong, at least to our ears.

Gregory also founded a singing school in Rome, which was large enough to occupy two good-sized edifices. In this he probably taught personally.

There have been shown as relics of his instruction, the couch on which he sat while teaching, and the rod with which the boys were corrected, or awed into giving proper attention to their studies.

The amplification which he made in the Ambrosian scale was the addition of four tones or plagal modes, and also that he totally abolished the difficult Greek nomenclature, such as para-mese and proslambanomenos, and gave the names of the first seven letters of the Roman alphabet, to the seven notes, A, B, C, D, E, F, G, in the same manner as used to-day. There is no question but that the scale founded by Gregory, had a diatonic character, but as to the number of systems of tones employed, authorities differ, and even the books of music of Gregory’s own compilation (one of which was chained to the altar at St. Peters, to fix the standard of tone for ever and ever) do not clear up the difficulty, for the number differs.

But the system gradually settled itself, and eight tones only (our ordinary diatonic scale tones) were found practicable for composition and singing.

Gregory’s system was founded on the division of the octave into two intervals; a perfect fifth and perfect fourth. The fifth was, next to the octave, the most important interval.

The added modes (called plagal, signifying “oblique, sideways”), were so called to distinguish them from the authentic tones or keys (D, E, F, G, A), a synopsis of the entire set of tones would be as follows,—

There were four authentic modes, viz.,—D, E, F and G, and four plagal, as follows,—A, B, C and D.

To give a description that would be at all adequate, of the system of Gregory, would require much space, and many plates and engravings. We shall therefore touch but lightly on the tone systems and notations of the early and middle ages. The founding of the scale from a fifth and fourth, led to one grave mistake; these intervals were supposed to be of prime importance, and more perfect than others, and finally were employed in harmonies which were decidedly harsh. But to such an extent did the evil spread that no composition (in the dark ages) was thought to be pure or classic, without containing a series of fourths, fifths, and octaves, and an invariable close upon an empty fifth. Thirds were rejected as totally impure. But these faults are not of Gregory’s origination, and he must ever stand as the man who made the connecting link between the old Greek music and our own.

CHAPTER XXII.
MUSIC IN EUROPE FROM THE FIFTH CENTURY.

In proceeding to briefly sketch the curious facts of musical history in the dark ages, we shall necessarily confine ourselves to pointing out only what is chiefly remarkable, and shall not enter into the field of dispute regarding systems and notations, for this period of Musical History is a very hazy one. It is but natural to suppose, that when general barbarism spread over Europe, music was not likely to be either much practised or written about. The last writer on the previous systems was Boethius (the last of old Roman writers), who lived at about the same epoch as Gregory (he was put to death by Theodoric, the Goth, A. D. 525).

In his work, he uses the letters of the alphabet, to designate musical notes, but does not repeat the letters at the octave; his nomenclature therefore does not end at G, but continues on, to N, O, and P.[256]

Musical progress was at a stand still from the time of Gregory, until the reign of the Carlovingian kings. Charlemagne at the end of the eighth, and beginning of the ninth centuries, took all art and music under his powerful protection. He loved to compare himself with King David, and had in many respects, good reason to, for he possessed both the virtues and the failings of that ancient monarch.

He gathered about him a number of musical and literary friends, and we can judge of the pleasant manner of their intercourse by the names of antiquity which each one was known by. Alcuin, was dubbed Flaccus Albinus; Riculf, Archbishop of Mayence,—Damoetas; Arno,—Aquila; Angilbert,—Homerus, etc.[257]

In addition to the literary and musical schools founded throughout his empire, in his own palace was one devoted to the education of the children of his servants. Books were read, and music sung to his courtiers, during the hours of dining or other leisure.

The singing at his court, he often conducted himself, and every one was obliged to participate. If a stranger arrived, he was also obliged to stand with the chorus, and even if he could not sing, at least to make the semblance of doing so.

In the conservation of ancient legendary songs Charlemagne was very active, and many which have come down to our day, owe their existence to his wise and thoughtful care.[258]

In church music he was, most of all, interested, and remarked with much concern, the variations between the Gregorian and French singing. To put an end to the matter, he sent to Stephen IV., the reigning pope, for ecclesiastical singers; the latter responded by sending, (in imitation of the twelve apostles,) twelve clerical singers to teach his empire.

But these twelve apostles, turned out to be all Judases, for jealous of the rising civilization of France, they agreed among themselves, not to aid in its rise. When therefore, they had been received at the French court with every honor, and were sent to their various fields of labor, it is said, they began to sing in a most wretched manner, and not content with that, they taught this abomination to their pupils. But when Charlemagne celebrated Christmas at Tours that year, and in Paris the succeeding year, he heard other Roman vocalists sing in a manner totally different, and lost no time in making complaint to the pope, who, calling back the untrustworthy teachers, punished them, some with banishment, and some with perpetual imprisonment; and in order that a similar deceit might not again be practised, he persuaded Charlemagne to send two French Ecclesiastics to Rome, where under Papal supervision they learned the true Gregorian style of song.[259]

There also exists another anecdote of the ruling of Charlemagne in church singing, which will show how high partizan feeling ran in musical matters at this era. It is as follows,—

“The most pious King Charles having returned to celebrate Easter at Rome with the apostolic Lord, a great quarrel ensued during the festival, between the Roman and Gallic singers. The French pretended to sing better and more agreeable than the Italians; the Italians, on the contrary, regarding themselves as more learned in Ecclesiastical music, in which they had been instructed by St. Gregory, accused their competitors of corrupting, disfiguring, and spoiling the new chant. The dispute being brought before our sovereign lord the king, the French, thinking themselves sure of his countenance and support, insulted the Roman singers; who, on their part, emboldened by superior knowledge, and comparing the musical abilities of their great master, St. Gregory, with the ignorance and rusticity of their rivals, treated them as fools and barbarians.”

“As their altercation was not likely to come to a speedy issue, the most pious King Charles asked his chanters which they thought to be the purest and best water, that which was drawn from the source at the fountain-head, or that which after being mixed with turbid and muddy rivulets, was found at a great distance from the original spring?”

“They exclaimed unanimously, that all water must be most pure at its source; upon which our lord the King, said, ‘mount ye then up to the pure fountain of St. Gregory, whose chant ye have manifestly corrupted.’ After this our lord the king, applied to Pope Adrian (the first) for singing masters to convert the Gallican chant; and the pope appointed for that purpose Theodore and Benedict, two chanters of great learning and abilities, who had been instructed by St. Gregory himself; he likewise granted to him Antiphonaria, or choral-books of that saint, which he had himself written in Roman notes.”

“Our lord the King, on his return to France, sent one of the two singers granted him by the Pope, to Metz, and the other to Soissons; commanding all the singing masters of his kingdom to correct their antiphonaria, and to conform in all respects to the Roman manner of performing the church service.”

“Thus were the French antiphonaria corrected, which had before been vitiated, interpolated, and abridged at the pleasure of every choir man, and all the chanters of France learned from the Romans that chant which they now call the French chant, which is entirely as the Roman except that the French do not execute the tremulus and vinnulas, the bound and staccato notes (collisibiles vel secabiles voces), with facility, and give a rather rude and throaty manner of singing. The best style of singing remained in Metz, and as superior as Rome is to Metz, so superior is Metz to the rest of France, in its school of singing.”[260]

Both the above anecdotes, although quoted very frequently, must be taken cum grano salis, for as Ambros and Fetis well observe, the two singers, if they had received instruction from Gregory, and also taught in the era of Charlemagne, must have been about two hundred years of age, which is certainly too old for active service. Another historian gives the names of the envoys as Petrus and Romanus, and it is certain that one of these did go to Metz, and that a famous school of singing was founded at Soissons about the same time. Both the teachers, also must have instructed the French, in the musical characters then used in notation, and known by the name of Neumes.

The Neumes which were in use for musical writing from the eighth to the twelfth century were short lines, twirls, and hooks, which were written above the words of a song to denote the melody.

The origin of these marks, is buried in oblivion, for they seem to have been developed, not at one time, but gradually, and from the simplest beginnings. Although we have not space to describe the theories concerning them, a short explanation of them is necessary, for from these Neumes gradually came our modern system of notation. At first these marks were only meant as guides to memory; to aid the singer to sing an air which he had previously learned. Thus the first bar of “Home Sweet Home,” would be represented by a Scandicus signifying three upward moving tones, the first two short, the last one long.

The exclamation and interrogation point, are in language, what Neumes were at first in music, they roughly sketched out the inflection of the voice. The connection between them, and our modern notation is very evident; in our musical notation the requirements of the eye, have been well attended to; not entirely perhaps, as regards the length of notes, but certainly in the matter of ascending and descending passages, etc.;[261] the old Greek notation, with its upturned and fragmentary letters, meant nothing to the untutored eye; but the Neumes of the middle ages, were the first attempt to express a meaning by their arrangement. Thus the tripunctum (tripunctum) would denote three notes ascending, though not which ones; it might mean

etc., the bipunctum (bipunctum) two ascending, or (bipunctum) descending notes; the plica ascendens (plica ascendens) an upward spring of a third, etc.

It being a system which was evolved by slow degrees, it is not astonishing that there are various signs, about which opinions differ. The system though seemingly barbarous, was in reality an improvement; although not developed so extensively as the Greek notation which preceded it, it bore the germ of a more natural style of musical characters.

But the constant change of, and addition to the Neumes, bore evidence, that it was but a pathway to a more complete system. The next great reformer in music gave his attention to abolishing the uncertainty which clung around the pneumata.

Hucbald, Monk of St. Amand, in Flanders, (born about 840, died 932,) made the first practical effort to fix notes permanently. To him is due the germ of the idea which afterwards culminated in the modern clefs and staff.

He took (unfortunately) the Greek system for his starting point, and this led him into many errors, and much lessened the permanent value of his work. He took the tetrachord (or succession of four notes) as the foundation of music, but he applied it in a most strange manner; his scale was as follows:[262]

it will be readily seen that the above scale contains some incongruities, which are precisely similar to those noticed in the music of the Hindoos; that is the octave comes out a semi-tone sharp; B natural being octave to B flat, F sharp to F, etc.

Naturally, in singing it is not to be conceived that the singers took any such outlandish system as to substitute this for an octave, but it must have allowed great license to the singers, and the whole must have given rise to much ambiguity.

His improvement in the method of notation consisted (a perfect anticipation of clef and staff) in placing the letters of the notes employed, before each line of the words, and then writing each syllable of the song, opposite to (and level with) the note to which it belonged. As he adopted the clumsy Greek method of lettering (using only four letters, and placing them upright, reversed, backwards, and sideways) we will give an example with English letters.[263]

The words being “Laudate Dominum de cœlis.”

The harmony of Hucbald was as peculiar and barbaric as his scale system.

He followed the principle of the ancients in treating intervals of thirds and sixths as dissonances, and therefore did not allow them to appear in his works. In common with some of his predecessors, he held that the only pure intervals were fifths and fourths. To us this succession of discords appears most appalling, but it is probable that in the practical use of music it was ameliorated somewhat. At this time when the organ was in such a primitive state that the organist struck the keys heavily with his fist in playing, the left fist was sometimes allowed to hold a tone (in the manner of an organ point), while the right played a succession of tones with the singers. The constant rejection of sixths and thirds as impure intervals, must ever remain a mystery to us; yet the effect of even this harsh and uncouth singing was deep on those who heard it. History tells us that King Canute was deeply impressed on hearing the monks chant, while being rowed in his boat, near a monastery, and a lady upon hearing the music of the first organ erected in France, went raving mad, from excess of emotion.

We will leave the rude harmonies of Hucbald, with a final example showing the succession of fourths used in his organum (or art of composing).

The letters T, and S, signify tone and semitone.

Sometimes four voices were thus written on a staff of fifteen lines. Although this system was so cumbrous, yet the right path had been attained, and the progress was continual; little inventions followed one upon the other, and many of the modern usages in music date their rise to this obscure age of Musical History.

The next great name, in the art, is that of Guido Aretino, or of Arezzo, a monk of the Benedictine order, born at Arezzo. He flourished about A. D. 1030 though the date of his birth and death, is not accurately known. His work has had more influence in shaping modern music, than that of any one before him. Yet much of his life and work belongs to the hazy realm of legend. He attained such celebrity that every invention to which his successors could not find a father, was attributed to him.

Guido’s great success lay in the fact that he was a specialist. He did not undertake, like Gregory and Ambros, to shine in all art, science, and enterprise; his position precluded that; he says “The ways of Philosophers are not mine, I only occupy myself with what can be of use to the church, and bring our little ones (the scholars) forward.”

There was need of such a man; for though music teachers were sought in every country at this time, and those from Italy, Greece, France and even Germany, were highly prized, yet there were many who presumed on this state of affairs, and the consequence was that incompetent teachers were the rule. To remedy this great evil was the aim of Guido’s life.

He says some of these would-be teachers, “If they sang in their aimless manner, every day, for a hundred years, they would not invent even the slightest new Antiphon, and he who cannot easily and correctly sing a new song, by what right can he call himself a musician or singer?

“At the service of God, it too often sounds, not as if we were praising Him, but as if we were quarrelling, and scolding among ourselves.”

He devoted himself greatly, to the teaching of a most important branch of singing, i. e., sight reading, and soon brought his cloister class to such perfection in this that they astonished all beholders. He was not however, as mild-mannered a reformer as his predecessor in art, Hucbald. His bitter sarcasms on his brother monks, soon brought a result, and he found himself though not actually chased from his convent, yet ostracized in it.

But he was well able to sustain such a strife, and continued his work with zeal unabated. His style of teaching sight reading was far in advance of his competitors, for he taught his scholars to sing intervals, not by referring to the monochord, but instead of it to think of some similar interval in any hymn well known to them, thus combining thought, memory and musical ear, in a practical manner.

He was struck with the regularly ascending intervals of the first syllables of each line of the hymn in honor of St. John, and with the inspiration of genius attached the syllables ut, re, mi, fa, sol, la, to the notes, and caused his scholars to memorize each interval, thus forming a new and easily comprehended system of Solfeggio. The hymn which inspired this wonderful stride in music runs,