5. CHURCH MUSIC.1

(FROM THE SAME WORK.)

2

TOUCHING musical harmony, whether by instrument or by voice, it being but of high and low in sounds a due proportionable disposition, such, notwithstanding, is the force thereof, and so pleasing effects it hath, in that very part of man which is most divine, that some have "bene" thereby induced to think that the soul itself by nature is, or hath in it, harmony; a thing which delighteth all ages, and beseemeth all states; a thing as seasonable in grief as in joy; as decent (appropriate) being added unto actions of greatest weight and solemnity, as being used when men most sequester themselves from action. The reason hereof is an admirable facility which music hath to express and represent to the mind, more inwardly "then" any other sensible mean, the very standing, rising, and falling, the very steps and inflections every way, the turns and varieties of all passions whereunto the mind is subject; yea, so to imitate them, that whether it resemble3 (represent) unto us the same state wherein our minds already are, or a clean contrary, we are not more contentedly by the one confirmed, "then" changed and led away by the other. In harmony the very image and character even of virtue and vice is perceived, the mind delighted with their resemblances, and brought, by having them often iterated (repeated), into a love of the things themselves. For which cause there is nothing more contagious and pestilent "then" some kinds of harmony; "then" some, nothing more strong and potent unto good. And that there is such a difference of one kind from another, we need no proof

(1) This passage is remarkable, as showing the influence of Hooker's classical training over his English style. It abounds in Latinisms, both in the syntax and in the position of words. Near the commencement we have, "of high and low, &c., a disposition," meaning, a due proportionable disposition of high and low sounds. The construction also, "there is that." &c., reminds us of est quod, &c.; "was the author of adding 'is auctor fuit adjiciendi; "under pretence of the law ceremonial abrogated "-i.e. being abrogated, or of the abrogation of the ceremonial law. Many similar peculiarities of idiom may be found by a little research. (2) Harmony-melody. Hooker does not attempt to preserve the scientific distinction which considers "melody as the succession, and harmony as the consonance of musical tones." He takes either as constituting “music."

(3) Resemble, repres nt; obsolete in this sense. Spenser has, "Many resemblaunces (representations) to her he made;" and Holland (“Plutarch") speaks of "the rusticity in clowns which Aristophanes resembleth" (represents).

but our own experience, inasmuch as we are at the hearing of some more inclined unto sorrow and heaviness, of some more mollified and "softned" in mind; one kind apter to stay and settle us, another to move and stir our affections. There is that draweth to a marvellous grave and sober mediocrity,' there is also that carrieth as it were into ecstasies, filling the mind with "an" heavenly joy, and for the time, in a manner severing it from the body." So that, although we lay altogether aside the consideration of "dittie" (the words of the song) or matter, the very harmony of sounds being framed in due sort, and carried from the ear to the spiritual faculties of our souls, is by a native puissance and efficacy, greatly available to bring to a perfect temper whatsoever is there troubled, apt as well to quicken the spirits as to allay that which is too eager, "soveraigne" against melancholy and despair, forcible to draw forth tears of devotion, if the mind be such as can yield them, able both to move and to moderate all affections.3

The prophet David having therefore singular knowledge, not in poetry alone, but in music also, judged them both to be things most necessary for the house of God, left behind him to that purpose a number of divinely "endited" poems, and was "farther" the author of adding (was the first to add) unto poetry melody in public prayer, melody both vocal and instrumental, for the raising up of men's hearts, and the sweetening of their

(1) Mediocrity-fr. Lat. mediocritas-is properly a middle state, or mean between too much and too little, which is the sense above. Now, however, it rather denotes the upward limit of the little, and is used for disparagement. The word mean seems to have passed through the same phases. Once, that was mean which was not excessive, but moderate and just; now, that which is the antithesis of high and noble.

(2) So Milton, in "Il Penseroso":

"There let the pealing organ blow

To the full-voiced quire below;

In service high, and anthem clear,

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

And bring all heaven before mine eyes."

There seems every reason to believe, that Milton had read, and been delighted with, this noble passage.

(3) So Milton, in "Paradise Lost," i. 555, speaks of the influence of music:

"Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage,

With solemn touches, troubled thoughts, and chase
Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain,
From mortal or immortal minds."

affections towards God. In which considerations (on which account) the church of Christ doth likewise at this present day "reteyne" it as an ornament to God's service, and "an" help to our own devotion. They which, under pretence of the law ceremonial abrogated, require the abrogation of instrumental music, approving nevertheless the use of vocal melody to remain, must show some reason wherefore the one should be thought a legal ceremony and not the other.

In church music, curiosity' and ostentation of art, wanton, or light, or unsuitable harmony, such as only pleaseth the ear, and doth not naturally serve to the very kind and degree of those impressions, which the matter that goeth with it leaveth, or is apt to leave in men's minds, doth rather blemish and disgrace that (what) we do," then " add either "bewtie" or furtherance unto it. On the other side, these faults prevented, the force and efficacy of the thing itself, when it drowneth (overpowers) not utterly, but fitly suiteth with matter altogether sounding to the praise of God, is in truth most admirable, and doth much edify, if not the understanding, because it teacheth not, yet surely the affection, because therein it worketh much. They must have "harts" very dry and tough, from whom the melody of Psalms doth not some time draw that wherein a mind religiously affected delighteth. Be it as Rabanus Maurus3 observeth, that at the first the church in this exercise was more simple and plain "then" we are; that their singing was little more "then" only a melodious kind of pronunciation (or chanting); that the custom which we now use was not instituted so much for their cause which are spiritual, as to the end that into grosser and heavier minds, whom bare words do not easily move, the sweetness of melody might make some entrance for good things. St. Basil himself, acknowledging as much, did not think that from such inventions the least jot of estimation and credit thereby should be derogated: "For (saith he) whereas the Holy Spirit saw that mankind is unto virtue hardly (with difficulty) drawn, and that righteousness is the less accounted of by reason of the proneness of our affections to that which delighteth; it pleased the wisdom of the same Spirit to borrow

(1) Curiosity, fr. Lat. curiosus (wh. fr. cura, "care"), careful, painful (in the old sense), painstaking. In the secondary sense, curiosity is a perversion of this quality, painstaking and meddling with other people's business. Both senses are still in use. Curiosity above means elaborate, overwrought care, fastidiousness. (2) These faults prevented-if these faults are avoided; an imitation of the Lat. ablative absolute.

(3) Rabanus Maurus, Archbishop of Mainz, or Mayence, in the eighth century.

from melody that pleasure, which, mingled with heavenly mysteries, causeth the smoothness and softness of that which toucheth the ear, to convey, as it were by stealth, the treasure of good things into man's mind. To this purpose were those harmonious tunes of Psalms devised for us, that they which are either in years but young, or touching perfection of virtue as yet not grown to ripeness, might, when they think they sing, learn. O the wise "conceipt" of that Heavenly Teacher, which hath by his skill found out a way, that doing those things wherein we delight, we may also learn that whereby we profit!"

SIR WALTER RALEIGH.'

1. THE NATURE OF HUMAN HAPPINESS. (FROM "THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD," PUBLISHED IN 1614.)

IF we truly examine the difference of both conditions,—to wit,2 of the rich and mighty, whom we call fortunate, and of the poor and oppressed, whom we count wretched, we shall find the happiness of the one, and the miserable estate of the other, so tied by God to the very instant (to the present moment) and both so subject to interchange (witness the sudden downfall of the greatest princes, and the speedy uprising of the meanest persons), as (that) the one hath nothing so certain whereof to boast, nor the other so uncertain whereof to bewail itself. For there is no man so assured of his honour, of his riches, health, or life, but that he may be deprived of either, or all, the very next hour or day to come. And although the air which compasseth adversity be very obscure, yet therein we better discern God "then" in that shining light which environeth worldly glory; through which, for the clearness thereof, there is no vanity which escapeth our sight. And let adversity seem what

(1) There is little now obsolete in the words of Raleigh, nor, to any great degree, in his turn of phrase: the periods, when pains have been taken with them, show that artificial structure which we find in Sidney and Hooker; he is less pedanuc than most of his contemporaries, seldom low, never affected.”— Hallam ("Lit. of Europe," iii. 149).

(2) To wit, namely; probably an abridgment of the A.S. phrase, “Ic do eow to witanne," I do you to wit, I would have you know = I mean, or, namely.

it will; to happy men, ridiculous, who make themselves merry at other men's misfortunes; and to those under the cross, grievous; yet this is true, that for all that is past, to the very instant, the portions remaining are equal to either. For, be it that (suppose that) we have lived many years, "and in them all we have rejoiced;" or be it that we have measured the same length of days, and therein have evermore sorrowed; yet, looking back from our present being, we find both the one and the other, to wit, the joy and the woe,-sailed out of sight; and death, which doth pursue us and hold us in chase from our infancy, hath gathered it. Whatsoever of our age is past, death holds it. So as (that), whosoever he be to whom fortune hath been a servant, and the time a friend, let him but take the account of his memory (for we have no other keeper of our pleasures past), and truly examine what it hath reserved, either of beauty and youth, or foregone delights; what it hath saved, that it might last, of his dearest affections, or of whatever else the amorous spring-time gave his thoughts of contentment, then invaluable, and he shall find, that all the art which his elder years have (i.e. all the experience of age) can draw no other vapour out of these dissolutions (lost enjoyments) "then" heavy secret, and sad sighs. He shall find nothing remaining but those sorrows which grow up after our fast-springing youth, overtake it when it is at a stand, and overtop it utterly when it begins to wither: insomuch as (that) looking back from the very instant time, and from our now being, the poor, diseased, and captive creature hath as little sense of all his former miseries and pains, as he that is most blessed, in common opinion, hath of his forepast pleasures and delights. For whatsoever is cast behind us, is just nothing; and what is to come, deceitful hope hath it. Only those few black swans (i.e. rare persons) I must except who, having had the grace to value worldly vanities at no more "then" their own price, do, by retaining the comfortable memory of a well-acted life, behold death without dread, and the grave without fear, and embrace both as necessary guides to endless glory.

2. THE END OF AMBITION.

(FROM THE SAME WORK.)

Ir we seek a reason of the succession and continuance of boundless ambition in mortal men, we may add to that which