Psalter Noted, effected a wonderful transformation in parish churches; but we should bear in mind that florid anthems, trifling double chants, and other such music of the day were everywhere denounced by our clergy, not so much because they were, musically speaking, unfit to be sung; bu because it was found that the feelings of devout minds were outraged by their irreverence and want of devotional effect. We look back with a sort of grim satisfaction to those stirring days of violent change and fiery conflict, when from one end of England to the other, the clergy, single-handed, were found waging a hard battle with stubborn choirs of women, contumacious churchwardens, traditional parish-clerks, and incompetent organists, with but a dim prospect before them of victory; but inch by inch they fought their way to the chancel, and that citadel gained for their surpliced choir, the battle was practically won. The congregational responses now everywhere heard, and the hearty hymns, testify to the value of the victory.

The revival of Church Music has been called above a "movement;" and perhaps inquisitive readers may ask the pertinent questions, Whence? and Where? What were the defects in the music of the time? What is the state of perfection to which we are supposed to be approaching? Now, to answer these questions properly, it would be necessary to enter into a long disquisition concerning the special characteristics which distinguish sacred from secular music. Then to shew where our former music was lacking in sacred character, and to point out its direct violation of the canon of rules laid down under the first head; and thirdly, to adduce evidence that the professions of reform which have lately been made in numerous Churches, without, however, any perceptible movement towards our ideal perfection, may justly be considered, speaking musically, as instances of "suspended resolutions,' leading to a canonical "progression,"-a point rather difficult to prove. But far be it from your lot, worthy readers, to read, or ours to write, so dreary and distasteful a treatise; yet that we may not be turned from our course by so truculent a threeheaded monster, perhaps a few short remarks of the simplest character may serve as a sop to Cerberus.

The special characteristics of Church Music may be defined to be grandeur, gravity, fervour,-a rare combination of excellences, which requires the genius of a master to effect; and, therefore, it is frequently said that a simple psalm tune may give sufficient proof of the ability of a composer,-for a mere worker by rule, though he may be correct in his concords,

will be lacking in fervour: a shallow writer can never attain to gravity; and the grandeur of a small genius sinks to its proper insignificance when the support of bombastic stilts is removed. Unless these three distinguishing characteristics exist in a very marked degree in any composition, it will never receive the continued approval of the Church;-for a time, indeed, it may be popular, and people will be found to delight in Ewing's Jerusalem the Golden, Hursley or Jackson's Te Deum; but very soon even the popular taste sickens of such things, and they sink into the oblivion from which they had no right ever to proceed.

The reason of the utter disgust with which we speak of last century's music arises entirely from its painful secularity. Anthems were written in what was called a light and graceful style; but they pall upon our ears now as frivolous and undevotional. Hymn tunes were written to "suit the popular taste," it was said; and though they were sung most uproariously by the bass singers in the organ-loft, they now only remind us of the rat-a-tat of a drum, or the refrain of a tavern song, they did not possess one trait of holy psalmody, and they have deservedly been banished from even the worst tune books of the present day. But if we run our eye over the accepted music of the Church, which gains more in our affections the oftener it is sung, we shall find it marked in a special by a peculiar grandeur, gravity, and fervour. The Gregorian tones delight more and more every day, as we chant the Psalter, and yet they never remind us of the world without the Church. The ancient hymn tunes, or such grand music as Tallis' Evening Hymn, The Old Hundredth, and other chorales, never recall the opera to our minds, and the rich, harmonious anthems of Gibbon, Tye, Farrant, and others, lift up our thoughts to the worship of heavenly choirs, and the holy music of angelic song. Musicians of eminence have undoubtedly taken a strong stand against Gregorian music, but only on account of its want of harmony-they complain of no deficiency in its sacred character. Were it intended to exclude modern music from our churches, and to supply its place with those works of early days when art was in its infancy, the complaints of Ouseley and others would be fully justified, and no greater calamity could well befall us; for any system of religion which discourages the culture of the fine arts, or refuses to incorporate into its system the gradually increasing knowledge of centuries, must be based upon a false foundation, and will soon fall to the ground; but the true lovers of Gregorian music are far from wishing to exclude

other compositions. All they assert is, that for congregational singing, especially in the Psalter, the ancient tunes are o wondrous power, and that they will not throw away needlessly sterling music, which still does its duty well, and has the immense advantage of a great antiquity.

If we consider the "uses" of Church Music, as well as its "characteristics," we shall find that there is no need of either ancient music being forgotten, or of modern compositions being thrust aside; it is only when Gregorianizers on the one hand, or Harmonists on the other, take up exclusive theories, that there is seen to be any difficulty in the combination of both styles. Thanksgiving, of which music is the expression, is a sacrifice; and, therefore, like all other sacrifices, must contain both an offering and a participation.

In the Sacramental Eucharistia, our Lord first gave to His Apostles the blessed privilege of participation, and on the following day they were present at His offering on the Cross. The Church gives a like privilege to her children by the practice of Low and High Masses, so that time may be obtained to meditate upon each part of the Holy Sacrifice. In Thanksgiving, generally, the same distinction is drawn: it is called the calves of our lips,"-a strong sacrificial expression, reminding us of ministering servants, who make the offering, and of the people's participation. Hence, as a congregation, we should join with our lips in the praises and hymns which are sung; and in the offering of anthems and other elaborate music we should give to God, at the hands of ministering choristers, the best offering that we can procure.

The Church, therefore, while she encourages congregational psalmody as much as possible, gives full scope also to the powers of genius, and hails every fresh discovery in musical science with ever-increasing satisfaction, as an enrichment of her offering to the glory of God.

Let us make a few remarks on the present state of Church Music in the Church of England, pointing out, as we go along, its intimate connection with doctrinal opinion.

The religious services of our Cathedrals are now remarkable for the purity of the music, and the excellency of the voices of the singers. No pains seem to be spared in striving after artistic perfection in all that pertains to the musical rendering of the daily Matins and Evensong,-the anthems and services are exquisite, and the organ accompaniment superb.

Thus, much honour must be allowed to the authorities of our Cathedrals by every impartial critic; and the large congregation of respectable people which assemble, at least on Sundays,

show that the care taken in conducting so much of the public worship as the Dean and Chapter think necessary for edification, is not unappreciated.

Our praise can, we are sorry to say, extend no further. The slovenly processional, the indecent behaviour of the choristers, the careless worship of the congregation,-all show a lack of religious reverence which is painful in the extreme. The special deficiencies of these services are, the exclusion of the people from any participation in the daily worship, and the complete degradation of the office of the Holy Eucharist in a musical point of view.

The office of the canonical hours, of which our Matins and Evensong are a condensation, is, by its structure, congregational in character. It may be doubtful whether it is serviceable for the use of the lower orders; but whether it is said only by priests, or be adapted for the common prayer of the people, it is manifestly against all ancient use and common sense to confine its utterance to a few in the congregation. In ancient times, when the laity were content to frequent Mass as sufficient for their morning devotional wants, the monks and clergy of our cathedrals and minsters used to assemble within the rood, or in their private chapel, and sing lustily the Psalms and versicles of the Hours, as an additional exercise of devotion, becoming men called to a holy life;-the plain song was easily learned, and daily practice in the Psalter made its correct pointing appear almost natural. Hence, for such as attended these services, they were eminently congregational.

The abolition of monasteries, and the appointment of paid laics to fulfil the duties of the religious, together with the practice of attendance by the people at the newly-appointed Matins, completely transformed the character of the Divine office. The people, as a general rule, could attend Church for any length of time only on Sundays, and so knew little of the newly-translated Psalter,-they were, therefore, compelled to listen, instead of singing; and as hymns were given up because none could be found to translate them, the choir soon found that it had everything to itself, and with a natural desire of doing credit to their profession, the lay-clerks began to use music more difficult than that which the larger bodies of monks could formerly have attempted; and so the congregation was completely shut out from all audible participation in the worship. In the Holy Eucharist, where there is so much objective worship, no great harm would have happened by this development of the musical services; but in mere chanting and psalm-singing, which is an entirely subjective occupation, the

consequence has been, as we have said above, disastrous The congregation has lost all interest in the service;-they criticize the singers, which is the only objective point that they can lay hold of in the performance, and are careless and indifferent worshippers. In no church or chapel in the world,—in no worship of Hindoo or Mahometan, is there less devotion seen than in an English Cathedral, where a bowed knee is almost an unknown posture to the crowded audience.

To one who has attended a service at Westminster Abbey, there is nothing more painful than to notice the closed lips of the boys of Westminster School. From day to day, and week to week, they are doomed to the same unbroken silence, which must have the effect of chilling their young hearts, and of making religion appear a mere matter of form, and compulsory attendance; or they may think that religion consists in fine singing and unending monotone, which are at all times offensive to the joyous temperament of a boy. Much better would it be for them to be allowed to frequent the lowest evangelical church in the city, where revival prayer-meetings and unctuous hymns would give some play to their youthful affections, rather than to have the religious life of these little ones stunted and frost-bitten by the cold chill of Cathedral propriety.

What we would advocate, therefore, in the Matins and Evensong of a cathedral is a due admixture of the congregational element. Let the present elaborate music be retained; but let the service be interspersed with chorales or hymn tunes suitable to the wants and ability of a congregation. The volume of sound which would result from the voices of a joyous multitude, united in common praise, would be worthy of the grandeur of those noble temples, and would effect a transformation in the character of the assembly. It would no longer be an audience of irreverent hearers, itching after the performance of soli and intricate quartettes, but a congregation of attentive worshippers, glad to take their proper part in the service, and listening with due reverence to the offering of praise which others were privileged to make in their name. Ritual, of course, ought not to be forgotten; but it need not be very pronounced in this service of the Hours, which should be made as popular and congregational as possible. A decent processional might be introduced, and cassocks and cottas used by the choristers to induce proper reverence; but except on grand occasions, the pomp of Ritual should be reserved for the Eucharist.

The second defect in the musical services of our cathedrals which we have pointed out, is its degradation of the Commu