Rude as this is, it manifests a laudable desire for the attainment of that melodious motion of the separate Parts, which, not long after the death of its Composer, became the distinguishing characteristic of mediæval Music. With all their stiffness, and strange predilection for combinations now condemned as intolerable, we cannot but see that the older writers did their best to provide every Singer with an interesting Part. Nevertheless, true Polyphony, was not yet invented. For that, it was necessary, not only that every Voice should sing a melodious strain; but, that each should take its share in the elucidation of one single idea, not singing for itself alone, but answering its fellow Voices, and commenting, as it were, upon the passages sung by them. In other words, it was necessary that every voice should take up a given Subject, and assist in developing it into a Fugue, or Canon, or other kind of composition for which it might be best suited. This was the one great end and aim of true Polyphony; and, for the practical realisation of the idea, we are undoubtedly indebted to the Great Masters of the early Flemish School, to whose ingenuity we owe the invention of some of the most attractive forms of Imitation and Fugal Device on record. The following quotation from a 'Chanson à trois voix' by one of the earliest of them, Antonius Busnois, who is known to have been employed as a Singer in the Chapel of Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, in the year 1467, will serve to shew the enormous strides that Art was making in the right direction.
Here we see a regular Subject started by the Tenor, and answered by the Triplum, note for note, with a clearness which at once shews the unity of the Composer's design. When this stage was reached the Polyphonic School may be said to have been fairly established; and it only remained to bring out its resources by aid of the genius of the great writers who practised it. The list of these Masters is a long one; but certain names stand out before all others, as borne by men whose labours have left an indelible impression upon the Schools to which they belonged. Of these men, Guillaume Dufay was one, and Ockenheim another; but the greatest genius of the 15th century was undoubtedly Josquin des Prés, the ingenuity of whose contrupuntal devices has never been exceeded. Uberto Waelrant, Jacques Archadelt, and Adrian Willaert, wrote in simpler form, but bequeathed to their successors an amount of delicate expression which was turned to excellent account by their scholars in Italy. Their gentler fervour was eagerly caught up by Costanzo Festa, Giovanni Croce, Luca Marenzio, and a host of others whose talents were scarcely inferior to theirs; while, facile princeps, Palestrina rose above them all, and clothed Polyphony with a beauty so inimitable, that his name has been bestowed upon the School as freely as if he had lived in the 15th century to inaugurate it.
A careful study of the works of this great writer will shew that, when regarded from a purely technical point of view, their greatest merit lies in the strictness with which the Polyphonic principle has been carried out, in their development. Of course, their real excellence lies in the genius which dictated them: but, setting this aside, and examining merely their mechanical structure, we find, not only that every Part is necessary to the well-being of the whole, but, that it is absolutely impossible to say in which Part the chief interest of the Composition is concentrated. In this respect, Palestrina has carried out, to their legitimate conclusion, the principles we laid down in the beginning of our article, as those upon which the very existence of Polyphony depended. It would seem impossible that Art could go beyond this; and, in this particular direction, it never has gone beyond it. It is impossible, now, even to guess what would have happened had the Polyphonic School been cultivated, in the 17th century, with the zeal which was brought to bear upon it in the 16th. That it was not so cultivated is a miserable fact which can never be sufficiently deplored. Palestrina died in 1594; and, as early as the year 1600, his work was forgotten, and its greatest triumphs contemned as puerilities. Monteverde sapped the foundations of the School by his contempt for contrapuntal laws. Instrumental Accompaniment was substituted for the ingenuity of pure vocal writing. The Choir was sacrificed to the Stage. And, before many years had passed, the Polyphonic School was known no more, and Monodia reigned triumphant. Happily, the laws to which Palestrina yielded his willing obedience, and 'to the action of which his Music owes so much of
