highest. Among persons of refined musical taste, these old songs only require to be known in order to be appreciated. The same remark, though in a lesser degree, might be applied to some of the finest Irish airs.

National Melody, self-sown, is fostered by art; Harmony is also the result of science and experience. While the song of the wandering Minstrel, tuned to love or war, sprung up indigenously in the various countries of the north and the sunny south-kings and nobles frequently seeking to rival him in skill-Italy in the early ages, Flanders from the fifteenth to the sixteenth century, and Rome after the time of Palestrina, were respectively the head-quarters of scientific music; and thither ecclesiastics continued to resort for instruction, while masters from these countries were much in request throughout Europe.

From Guido D'Arezzo, to the age of the Medici and Leo X., music made no rapid or very marked progress. This period of wondrous intellectual activity, however, as in the other arts and sciences, was an epoch of great and decided advancement. Time, melody, and harmony, were now studied, each both as an art and a science. The most distinguished architects, sculptors, poets, painters, and scientific men of the day were at the same. time musicians. The organ had but recently been brought near to its present perfection, so that the deep capabilities and powers of harmony were perceived. To that instrument, therefore, may principally be ascribed the gradual discovery and study of harmony and counterpoint. Although we read of water organs; of an organ having been presented to Pepin, king of France, by the Greek Emperor Constantine, in the eighth century;

and of a rude, cumbrous instrument in Winchester Cathedral, with twenty-six bellows, requiring seventy men to blow them, and much strength to force down its few keys which were each five or six inches broad; these were all rude, ineffective contrivances, compared with our modern instrument.

Milton-himself a skilful performer on the organ, and the son of one who in his leisure hours was an enthusiastic organist-evinces his fine musical appreciation in the following lines,

"There, let the pealing organ blow,

To the full-voic'd quire below,

In service high, and anthems clear,

As may with sweetness, through mine ear,
Dissolve me into extasies,

And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes.”

By a singular anachronism, however-or, rather, a poetical license-in "Paradise Lost," he represents Jubal as performing on an instrument of the seventeenth century, in beautiful language, so technically correct as to be even yet singularly applicable to the masterly playing of Bach, Handel, or Mendelssohn. His words are

"The sound

Of instruments that made melodious chime

Was heard, of harp and organ; and, who mov'd
Their stops and chords, was seen: his volant touch,
Instinct through all proportions, low or high,

Fled and pursued, traverse, the resonant fugue."

For a time the new combinations and capabilities of harmony led to a partial neglect of melody. The latter, however, being the soul of all national and secular music, speedily produced a reaction, and came to supply the de

ficiency of the former. No harmony, however rich, can dispense with melody, any more than gorgeous colouring in a painting can, in any degree atone for the absence of correct drawing.

Palestrina (who was born in 1524, and died in 1594) may be regarded as the creator, or reformer, of modern church music. Far in advance of that age, his massive harmonies exhibit a depth, purity, richness, and dignified grandeur, especially in the celebrated Mass of Marcellus, which makes him rank unspeakably above the florid composers of a later time. The principal characteristics of his style have thus been enumerated-"precision and clearness in the observation of the rules of harmony, grace and truth in expression, with pure taste, and the noblest simplicity in modulation." Luca Marenzis, of the same period, also brought the madrigal to a degree of perfection which has scarcely been excelled.

The sacred music of Palestrina is still considered a model of excellence. From his successors we single out one great name, Gregorio Allegri, the composer of The Miserere, of whom little else is known than that he was admitted into the Pope's chapel in 1629, and died in 1652.

For a time, the scientific music of Rome, both sacred and secular, was received as the scientific music of the world. Soon, however, originality and genius, roused and stirred by sympathetic appreciation, began to think and invent, forming new and striking combinations.

In the Netherlands, a succession of distinguished musicians appeared at the close of the fifteenth and during the sixteenth century; the founder of the Flemish school being Josquin des Pres, many of whose beautiful masses, motets, and songs are still extant.

To the Reformation in Germany and Switzerland, with the efforts of Huss, Jerome of Prague, Zuinglius, and, above all, of Luther, we are chiefly indebted for the psalmody of our Protestant churches, and, indeed, for a higher tone of morals in the popular songs of Europe.

In France, Clement Marot, and his friend Theodore Beza, prepared a version of the psalms, and did much to render the singing of them acceptable among the people. In England, during the sixteenth century, among the greatest names in ecclesiastical harmony were Tye, Marbeck, Tallis, Bird, and Gibbons: of these, the greatest was Tallis. At the Reformation, the choral service, superior to that of any other country, was fortunately retained in our cathedrals, and ordered to be carried on, "reduced, nevertheless, to that state of purity and simplicity from which it had deviated." Under the reign of Elizabeth, many improvements, particularly in regard to psalm-singing by the people, were effected, principally through the musical taste and learning of Archbishop Parker. Later appeared Thomas Ravenscroft's celebrated work, containing a melody for every one of the one hundred and fifty psalms. It is interesting to know that he was assisted in its preparation by John Milton, the father of the poet, whose "York," a fine composition, --the alternate rising and falling of the melody ever suggesting to us the waving of cherub-wings-is still a favourite tune in our churches at the present day. The numerous services, anthems, and canons of this period are regarded as the finest compositions of their kind to be met with. Reserving some remarks on the improvement of psalmody for the close of the present treatise, we proceed with our sketch.

Towards the close of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth century, rose that brilliant constellation of English musicians, whose madrigals and glees are still unrivalled in originality and beauty. A collection of twenty-four madrigals, entitled "The Triumphs of Oriana," was published by Morley in 1602; and we learn from various sources, that to sing in parts at social meetings, when the music books were as a -matter of course placed on the table, was then deemed an ordinary and necessary accomplishment for any welleducated lady or gentleman. The following dialogue of the period, from Morley's "Introduction to Practical Music," is interesting and curious, as illustrating the manners of the time. We quote it at second hand.

"Polymathes.-Sage brother Philomathes, what haste? Whither go you so fast?

Philomathes.To seek out an old friend of mine. "Pol.-But before you goe, I praie you to repeat some. of the discourses which you had yesternight at Master Sophobulus, his banquet; for commonly he is not without both wise and learned guestes.

“Phi.—It is true, indeed; and yesternight there were a number of excellent schollers, both gentlemen and others; but all the purpose which was then discoursed upon was musicke.

"Pol.-I trust you were contented to suffer others to speak of that matter.

"Phi.-I would that had been the worst; for I was compelled to discover mine own ignorance, and confesse that I knewe nothing at all in it.

"Pol.-How so?

"Phi.-Among the rest of the guestes, by chance