of Composers must take the difficulty into serious consideration, and not affect to think lightly of the only means by which success has hitherto been attained.
Since the downfall of the Polyphonic Schools, the true Church Style—the 'Stilo alia Cappella' of the 16th century—has lain entirely dormant: but, within the last few years, attempts have been made to revive it, both in Germany, in France, and in England. In Germany, the movement was begun in 1853 by Dr. Karl Proske, who printed a large collection of the finest works of the 16th century,[1] and introduced them, with great effect, into the Services of the Cathedral at Regensburg, of which he was Canon, and Kapellmeister. After his death the work was carried on by the 'Cæcilien Verein,' which has done much towards the dissemination of a taste for the productions of the true Polyphonic School, and led to their constant performance in all parts of Germany.
In France, the increased love for Plain Chaunt, which manifested itself, some thirty years ago, in the Dioceses of Paris, Rouen, Rheims, Cambrai, and other parts of the country, has, to a great extent, supplanted the frivolous style of Music once so miserably popular.
In England, the movement began, about thirty-five years ago, with the introduction of Gregorian Tones to the Psalms, at Margaret Street Chapel, S. Paul's, Knightsbridge, S. Barnabas', Pimlico, and some other London Churches, including the Chapel of S. Mark's College, Chelsea. After a time, and mainly through the zeal of the Rev. Thomas Helmore, the taste for this kind of Music spread rapidly; and this taste—assisted, perhaps, by party feeling—soon made 'Gregorians' so popular, that it would be impossible to number the Churches in which they were sung. Unhappily, the present leaders of the movement seem utterly blind to the fact that 'Gregorians' cannot, without entirely losing their distinctive character, be sung with modern Harmonies fit only for the Theatre. The only hope for success lies in the stern prohibition of this vulgar and intolerable abuse; the perpetuation of which would be a far greater evil than an immediate return to the 'Double Chaunt' of fifty years ago.
But, the most interesting question at present is that which concerns the future prospects of the Lyric Drama. We have seen, that Wagner, and Boïto, the leaders of the extreme section of the Neo-Teutonic, and Neo-Italian parties, are in favour of sacrificing everything to dramatic effect; of substituting an elaborate form of Recitative for continuous Melody; of heightening the effect of this by rich and varied Orchestral Accompaniments; and, of supplying the place of regular form by allotting certain special phrases to every character in the Drama.[2] We have seen, that, within a comparatively short space of time, they have almost entirely banished the older forms of Italian and German Opera from the Stage; and, that even Verdi, who once depended wholly upon Melody for his success, has, to a certain extent, adopted their principles.[3] On the other hand, we have seen that a more moderate party, numbering among its ranks some young Composers of acknowledged merit, is neither prepared to sacrifice dramatic truth to musical symmetry, nor musical symmetry to dramatic truth: but is determined to use Melody, Harmony, and Form, as means of enforcing Expression, Action, and the varied demands of scenic propriety not as hindrances to them; and, in so doing, to work out the main principles adopted by Mozart and Weber, without committing itself to any peculiarities of style, or method, beyond those dictated by the talent or fancy of the writer. There is much hope that these reasonable views may lead to a careful reconsideration of many things, which, in the heat of recent controversy, have been too violently debated on both sides. That a reaction of some kind must take place, sooner or later, seems certain; and it is of immense importance that it should be a temperate one, otherwise it will leave us in greater doubt than ever.
In passing from the future of Dramatic Music to that of Vocal Music generally, we find ourselves face to face with a new difficulty. On every Instrument in use, except the common Slide-Trumpet, we have attained a facility of execution, infinitely in advance of that which prevailed fifty years ago. But, within the same period, our Schools of Vocalisation have sensibly degenerated. Leaving Catalani, Pasta, Sontag, and Jenny Lind out of the question, there is no Theatre in Europe which, at this moment, could bring together such a body of Singers as formed the average Company of Her Majesty's Theatre, under the Lumley management. Where can we hear 'Il Don Giovanni' sung, as it used to be sung, season after season, by Grisi, Persiani, Rubini, Tamburini, and Lablache? There is no such Quintet attainable: not so much from lack of Voices as from lack of method. A good many of us are to blame for this. Our 'Maestri di canto,' in the first instance, of course; and our Singers also. But, are our Composers guiltless? Was there ever a period at which the capabilities of the Voice were so contemptuously disregarded, as they are at this moment? The evil began in Germany. We dare hardly write the name of the giant who originated it; but, if Beethoven's disregard of vocal capabilities has materially hindered—as it most certainly has—the performance of two, at least, of his greatest works, how can men of ordinary genius hope to succeed in spite of it? Time was, when Composers regarded the study of the Voice as indispensable to their education; and surely, the course of study which led to such splendid results, in the cases of Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Cimarosa, and Rossini, must have reacted upon the Singers for whom they wrote, and tended to perpetuate a School of Vocalists capable of doing full justice to their Music. We know that it did so; since it was
