Part 31 (2/2)

”Our ancestors did what they could,” answered Campbell; ”they were great in architecture, small in music. They could not use what was not yet invented. They sang Gregorians because they had not Palestrina.”

”A paradox, a paradox!” cried Bateman.

”Surely there is a close connexion,” answered Campbell, ”between the rise and nature of the basilica and of Gregorian unison. Both existed before Christianity; both are of Pagan origin; both were afterwards consecrated to the service of the Church.”

”Pardon me,” interrupted Bateman, ”Gregorians were Jewish, not Pagan.”

”Be it so, for argument sake,” said Campbell; ”still, at least, they were not of Christian origin. Next, both the old music and the old architecture were inartificial and limited, as methods of exhibiting their respective arts. You can't have a large Grecian temple, you can't have a long Gregorian _Gloria_.”

”Not a long one!” said Bateman; ”why there's poor Willis used to complain how tedious the old Gregorian compositions were abroad.”

”I don't explain myself,” answered Campbell; ”of course you may produce them to any length, but merely by addition, not by carrying on the melody. You can put two together, and then have one twice as long as either. But I speak of a musical piece, which must of course be the natural development of certain ideas, with one part depending on another. In like manner, you might make an Ionic temple twice as long or twice as wide as the Parthenon; but you would lose the beauty of proportion by doing so. This, then, is what I meant to say of the primitive architecture and the primitive music, that they soon come to their limit; they soon are exhausted, and can do nothing more. If you attempt more, it's like taxing a musical instrument beyond its powers.”

”You but try, Bateman,” said Reding, ”to make a ba.s.s play quadrilles, and you will see what is meant by taxing an instrument.”

”Well, I have heard Lindley play all sorts of quick tunes on his ba.s.s,”

said Bateman, ”and most wonderful it is.”

”Wonderful is the right word,” answered Reding; ”it is very wonderful.

You say, 'How _can_ he manage it?' and 'It's very wonderful for a ba.s.s;'

but it is not pleasant in itself. In like manner, I have always felt a disgust when Mr. So-and-so comes forward to make his sweet flute bleat and bray like a hautbois; it's forcing the poor thing to do what it was never made for.”

”This is literally true as regards Gregorian music,” said Campbell; ”instruments did not exist in primitive times which could execute any other. But I am speaking under correction; Mr. Reding seems to know more about the subject than I do.”

”I have always understood, as you say,” answered Charles, ”modern music did not come into existence till after the powers of the violin became known. Corelli himself, who wrote not two hundred years ago, hardly ventures on the s.h.i.+ft. The piano, again, I have heard, has almost given birth to Beethoven.”

”Modern music, then, could not be in ancient times, for want of modern instruments,” said Campbell; ”and, in like manner, Gothic architecture could not exist until vaulting was brought to perfection. Great mechanical inventions have taken place, both in architecture and in music, since the age of basilicas and Gregorians; and each science has gained by it.”

”It is curious enough,” said Reding, ”one thing I have been accustomed to say, quite falls in with this view of yours. When people who are not musicians have accused Handel and Beethoven of not being _simple_, I have always said, 'Is Gothic architecture _simple_?' A cathedral expresses one idea, but it is indefinitely varied and elaborated in its parts; so is a symphony or quartett of Beethoven.”

”Certainly, Bateman, you must tolerate Pagan architecture, or you must in consistency exclude Pagan or Jewish Gregorians,” said Campbell; ”you must tolerate figured music, or reprobate tracery windows.”

”And which are you for,” asked Bateman, ”Gothic with Handel, or Roman with Gregorians?”

”For both in their place,” answered Campbell. ”I exceedingly prefer Gothic architecture to cla.s.sical. I think it the one true child and development of Christianity; but I won't, for that reason, discard the Pagan style which has been sanctified by eighteen centuries, by the exclusive love of many Christian countries, and by the sanction of a host of saints. I am for toleration. Give Gothic an ascendancy; be respectful towards cla.s.sical.”

The conversation slackened. ”Much as I like modern music,” said Charles, ”I can't quite go the length to which your doctrine would lead me. I cannot, indeed, help liking Mozart; but surely his music is not religious.”

”I have not been speaking in defence of particular composers,” said Campbell; ”figured music may be right, yet Mozart or Beethoven inadmissible. In like manner, you don't suppose, because I tolerate Roman architecture, that therefore I like naked cupids to stand for cherubs, and sprawling women for the cardinal virtues.” He paused.

”Besides,” he added, ”as you were saying yourself just now, we must consult the genius of our country and the religious a.s.sociations of our people.”

”Well,” said Bateman, ”I think the perfection of sacred music is Gregorian set to harmonies; there you have the glorious old chants, and just a little modern richness.”

”And I think it just the worst of all,” answered Campbell; ”it is a mixture of two things, each good in itself, and incongruous together.

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