It is the well-founded supposition that all music was originally vocal. Probably in the very beginning one voice was allowed to sustain in succession tones of various pitches after the manner of uncivilized people at the present time. Later the one voice was doubtless joined by others which accompanied it on the same tone. In the chapter on tonality mention is made of the physiological law upon which rests the relation of a fundamental tone to its octave, its fifth, and its fourth, and this law may be considered as the more than probable reason for the introduction of the custom of voices singing simultaneously at the interval of an octave apart. The two tones are very similar and the combination entirely lacks any effect of contrast, on the other hand giving the impression of but one tone. This combination was the only one recognized by the Greeks and constitutes the first step toward polyphony, that is, music in many parts or counter-point. The Greeks at no time entertained the idea that voices could be allowed to sing simultaneously tones which were obviously different. They did not even regard the closely related consonances of fifths and fourths which later came into great prominence and whose consonance had been established and explained by Pythagoras. The Greeks, how-ever, allowed themselves to be hampered by arbitrary laws which made music more of a science than an art and discreetly refrained from any innovations. They do not appear to have recognized the possibility of music as a vehicle for the expression of emotions. It is true that their singers chanted long tales of love and war, tales whose beauties could not be excelled, but the music, owing to its monotonous form, in no wise tended to draw the attention. It merely consisted of a not overly melodious succession of tones, the length of each conforming to the length of the syllable which it accompanied. The idea of emphasizing the meaning of the words by setting them to appropriate music did not suggest itself and the accompaniment was in reality of secondary consideration, whereas, now it is not difficult to find instances where exquisite music has been used to accompany mediocre words.

Christianity brought with it a new impetus. Believers realized the adaptability of song for the expression of their praises, and furthermore they were exhorted in the Bible to employ it. However, the conditions were not conducive to improvement.

The advance made in the art cannot be attributed entirely to Christian spirit, but was likewise the outgrowth of abstract theory which was encouraged by the attention that the churchmen directed toward music in arranging the church ritual.

The church exerted a most striking influence over musical development. In the beginning, after the death of Christ, all the music which the converts possessed consisted of fragments borrowed from the older Greek and Hebrew music. Christ and his disciples had chanted a hymn of praise at the Last Supper and the apostles had repeatedly recommended the chanting of certain psalms, but the music was undoubtedly Hebraic, and it is from this scanty seed that the present system has grown.

Christ was closely associated with music, having even been represented as Orpheus playing upon a lyre, and it was very natural that the art was regarded as indispensable in praising God.

The simultaneous chanting of the entire congregation is said to have been superseded by antiphonal or responsive chanting about 350. A more legendary explanation of its adoption relates to St. Ignatius, who is supposed to have lived during the period from 49 to 107, and who died at Rome as a martyr after having spent his life as a disciple to the apostle, St. John. The story goes that St. Ignatius had a vision in which the heavens were opened to him and within he heard the celestial choirs praising the Holy Trinity in alternate chants. The vision so impressed him that he introduced this method of chanting into the church at Antioch. In reality, it was undoubtedly the resurrection of an Hebraic custom.

Many are the stories of the Christian martyrs who as they died continued to sing praises to their God, the indomitable spirit thus exhibited winning many converts to the faith. St. Augustine is recorded by his own confession to have been converted to Christianity by the effect of beautiful music. There are also what may be considered authentic records of the custom observed on special feast days by the early Christian followers whereby they gathered before sun-rise and sang their praises, which indicates the prominent part music played in their worship.

During the Second Century the universal acceptance of the belief in the Christ brought about a realization of the necessity of a catholic church and a common service. All efforts to bring this about were futile until during the auspicious reign of Constantine (306-337). Althought not a Christian during his active life, he ever favored the church, perhaps more for political effect than from religious convictions. In a vision just before an important battle he is said to have seen a cross and to have received an intimation that with this symbol at the head of his forces victory would be gained. As a consequence he adopted it as his insignia and always retained it. He was an extremely just ruler, and shortly before his death declared his intention of becoming a Christian and was baptized. During his reign new and magnificent churches were erected and the service took on a more formal aspect to be in keeping with the more splendid edifices. Hitherto the chanting had been entirely congregational but now choirs of trained singers were instituted and although hymns by the congregation were not immediately excluded, in 367 at the Council of Laodocea, the decision was reached that only such as had been properly appointed should sing in Christian churches.

About the beginning of the Fourth 'Century, during the new period of church freedom under Constantine, a school for the training of church singers was founded in Rome by Pope Sylvester and soon after there ensued the introduction into the church service of hymns which were strictly original in that they were founded upon no traditions from the past. They mark the first breaking away from the mother music of the Greeks and constitute the first effort to overcome the binding theory of the Greeks. ' A period of production flourished until the beginning of the next century, when originality was threatened with suppression by a part of the clergy declaring against the introduction of new music into the church ritual, but fortunately their opinion was overruled.

During the Fourth Century the church passed through an exceedingly dark period, caused by the strong reaction against the belief which swept over the land. Emperor Julian the Apostate, who reigned from 361 to 363, strongly advocated a return to the pagan forms of worship and his influence threatened the pure religious music that had been the outgrowth of Christianity. When a youth, Julian was instructed in the articles of faith and practise then prevalent, with all of which he complied without hesitation. But he was of a philosophic and studious nature and later as he be-came familiar with the great writers of ancient Hellas the contrast between the groveling superstition with which he was surrounded and the admiration he felt for the works of Homer and other poets, the veneration for antiquity and the poetic atmosphere with which the Olympic writers stood in-vested, he became a believer in the theology of Homer and Hesiod. With many another of his time he failed to find the beautiful simplicity of the Christian religion and confounded it with the intricate metaphysics and abject superstition which prevailed for a time in the church.

According to his own account he was Christian until his twentieth year, though he did not openly proclaim himself a votary of the ancient gods until he was Emperor, when he become known as Julian the Apostate. He directed the pagans to open their temples and offer victims as heretofore, and though very tolerant, even returning to their churches the Catholic prelates and clergy whom the Arian Constantius had banished, he attempted to introduce pagan ritual into the Christian Church. Of course, this meant a retarding of the development of church music. The Greek philosophy of his day was not the charming poetic creed of the early and best days of Hellas, but in it had crept tasteless, unsubstantial vagaries, mysticism and superstition had quite absorbed the purer elements. So it was well for the church that his reign was a brief one and that the wanton, degrading songs of pagan worship were not allowed to supersede the chants of the church or eventually the religion which engendered them would have lost its control over the people. As it was much that was not strictly religious in character crept into the ritual, and St. Ambrose (339-397) found ready the task of selecting such music as was worthy of the use to which it had been put and of establishing a common form of worship.

In 374 Ambrose became Bishop of Milan and at once assumed the task of defending the church against the proposed introduction of Arian worship by Empress Justina. He lived during a time of political and theological unrest, for while the barbarians pressed in upon the Roman Empire, even sacking Rome itself and threatening temporal power, the church was threatened by heresy and by schism. With undaunted courage, in the face of many opposing forces, he fought his fight and won. He brought back to the faith and to public penance the Emperor Theodosius, assuring temporal support for the church, firmly reinstated the Christian form of worship and established a standard of music which lasted for two hundred years.

There are in existence no melodies based upon the Ambrosian system, but we may quote from the Confessions of St. Augustine when he speaks of the impression made by the Ambrosian chant as he heard it in the church at Milan. He affirms that he exclaimed, "O my God ! When the sweet voice of the congregation broke upon my ears how I wept over Thy hymns of praise. The sound poured into mine ears, and Thy truth entered my heart. Then glowed within me the spirit of devotion, tears poured forth and I rejoiced."

It was in truth through the influence of Ambrose that Augustine was brought back to the faith and was made Bishop of Hippo, North Africa. He had been swayed by the general incredulity of the times and had rejected the orthodox Christian teachings. Ambrose convinced him, partly through the power of music, that he had strayed from the true religion, and then from a sense of duty he threw himself into the conflict and waged war against unbelievers with voice and pen. His influence was very great, and in carrying the teachings of the Catholic religion he carried the form of worship as established by Ambrose and as a part of it the pure religious music.

The progress of music between the time of Ambrose and Gregory was retarded because of misinterpretation of the meaning of Greek treatises on musical construction. Boetius, a statesman and not a musician, had about the year 500 attempted to compile a work on the theory of music as set forth by the Greeks, but treated it simply in the light of mathematical science and not as an art. Students seem to have accepted his work, De Institutione Musica, as authoritative and blindly followed it for years, and their music consequently was formal, unreal and failed entirely in beauty from the esthetic standpoint, and when Gregory became Pope in 590 he found the church service in a deteriorated condition.

Few pontiffs have equaled and hardly one surpassed him as administrator of the concerns of the vast Papal charge. He was a student of life and realized the necessity for advancement of culture in the church to meet the demands of society. He knew that the visible symbols of the spiritual teachings of the Roman Catholic religion, must be such as to appeal to and awaken the highest and best in man. To him the church is indebted for the complete and consistent organization of its public service and details of its ritual, and for the regulation and systematization of its sacred chants. The severely formal chants of Ambrose had not entirely satisfied the growing desire for music and there had crept into use songs which were entirely out of place. He saw that to again bring about order in the service he must gather together all the music which was in use anywhere in the church and discard any that was unseemly or worthless. This he did with untiring zeal and caused the chants which he had decided upon to be arranged and copied into a compact form and chained to the altar of St. Peter's in Rome, thus signifying that this form of worship should remain unchanged during all time.

In the chant of Ambrose the music had been largely disregarded and had greatly resembled the ancient Greek form in that it was more recited than sung. Gregory, however, abolished the more ancient style in which the value of the notes rested upon the length of the syllables which they accompanied, and the new chant consisted of a succession of melodies the value of whose notes varied but slightly. It was termed cantus planus, the literal translation, plain chant, now being used. The name referred to the even measured movement of the melody. Gregory decreed that the chant should in a large degree be sung by the appointed chorus, although the congregation assisted to a limited extent. The manner in which the church laws firmly governed it brought it the name of cantus firmus (fixed chant).

Gregory, in order to propagate his new system of song, established a school of music at Rome. The school was of imposing proportions and became very popular, its fame spreading to all lands. It is said that Gregory personally conducted classes in singing and always kept at hand a lash to be used upon negligent scholars. Singers who had been grounded in the Gregorian chant were sent to England in 604, and when, during the reign of Gregory's successor, the Pope was generally acknowledged as head of the church the system spread still more extensively. The temporal rulers of various lands sent requests to the Pope that instructors be sent to teach the approved church music to their people, among them Pepin, King of the Franks and father of Charlemagne. He was so impressed by Gregory's form of service that he remodeled the Gallic service to conform with that of the church at Rome, and in 757 sent a deputation to Emperor Constantine, requesting him to send an organ to France, which he placed in the Church of St. Corneille at Compiègne. Charlemagne also became enthusiastic and established numerous schools similar to those of Gregory; thus his music spread in France and in Germany.

Beginning with the latter part of the Ninth Century the musical historian is enabled to more closely trace the development of a system of music.

Previous to this there had been no theoretical writings concerning the subject and for our information we are largely dependent upon the history of the church, but this period ushers in one of the three learned writers, Hucbald, Guido of Arezzo, and Franco, who have given us a knowledge of the conditions of music during the Middle Ages. Hucbald was born in 840 in Flanders. Only one of his works has been preserved, De Harmonica Institutione, in which he describes under the name Symphonia the primitive form of part writing. Of this Symphonia he mentions three kinds, Diatessaron, Diapente and Diapason Symphonia, in other words, Harmony in the fourth, the fifth and the octave. So it is evident that the intervals of the fourth and fifth were at this time recognized in part singing and with the introduction of tones less closely related than were the unison of the octave, the voices which before had not enjoyed any independence, had begun to display a certain amount and music had assumed a more intricate form.

Instrumental as well as vocal music had begun to develop at this time, although the construction of the instruments was so crude that it seems impossible that they did not retard improvement rather than assist it. It is known that the organ was used in church services as early as 666 A. D., during Pope Vitalian's reign, and indications are that it was used two hundred years earlier in Spain.

The organ was undoubtedly selected as the church instrument because of the volume of sound to be obtained from it. Size, bigness, in anything creates a feeling of awe in the mind of the spectator and with it comes wonder and reverence. When man began by architecture to express the questionings of the meaning of life which confronted him he created structures which by their size alone have held the admiration and wonder of men of all ages, and always the feeling of unknown power and of mysticism comes with the wonder and makes man feel his own importance is small indeed and he humbles himself and worships.

The evolution of music was slow and the construction of the first organ was extremely crude and volume of sound for a tone seemed to be about all that was accomplished, so that in a way it was a detriment to the art of music. There was seldom a compass of more than an octave, the keys were several inches in breadth and long in proportion. They were so heavy that the performer was compelled to wear gloves and to strike the keys with his fists. He was well termed pulsator organorum (smiter of the organ). Rapid playing was out of the question, and because of the compass and the absence of the knowledge of harmony the organist for an accompaniment only played such notes as the choir sang. Gradually it was discovered that certain tones could be sounded together with a pleasant effect, and such combinations were employed at the conclusion of musical sentences. Later the singers began to imitate the simultaneous tones and it was very natural for the name of the instrument which had introduced the custom to be applied to the form of music thus developed and so rose the term organum.

The intervals which were recognized by organum, or diaphony as it was also called, were the octave, fifth and fourth. If, for instance, three voices were recognized the two accompanying voices could be either equidistant from the principal voice to the extent of either of these intervals or one could be at one accepted interval from the principal, and the other at another interval.

The method now appears unspeakably harsh, but at the time of its use the effects produced were considered as beautiful as it was possible for music to be. Hucbald based all his harmonies on these intervals and commends the system as the only proper one. He says : " If two or more persons fervently sing according to my system, the blending of the voices will be most agreeable." Although modern opinions do not coincide with Hucbald's, his words give us a most comprehensive idea of the contrast between the element in music which satisfied the aesthetic sense of six hundred years ago and that of today. Furthermore, musicians were not afforded an opportunity to display artistic sense, for the law of the church severely bound them within the limits of established rules.

Hucbald was one of the first to favor the use of organizing in the church. Ecclesiastical musicians strictly adhered to the rule which allowed only the use of the intervals of a fifth and a fourth, but in secular music there had appeared changes. The limits governing the sacred organum had been extended until the intervals of a third and a second were recognized. However, the latter system was termed profane by the churchmen and though more artistic in effect, was severely decried.

Not until another century has elapsed do we come to the second writer who has left us anything definite in regard to musical growth of this time. Guido of Arezzo, an Italian Benedictine monk who lived during the first half of the Eleventh Century, considered consecutive fifths too harsh for beauty and greatly favored the use of fourths. He was one of the first to look upon music in the light of an art rather than a science and the subsequent advance doubtless is due to him in a large degree. He has been credited with much in the way of originality in methods of teaching which cannot be justly claimed for him.

It is difficult to ascertain the truth in regard to his contributions to musical science partly because of his ambiguous language, and partly because he lived most of his life in a monastery and the world at large had little knowledge of his work. However, after his death his fame spread rapidly and almost every discovery during the next fifty years was attributed to him. To the form of part writing which Hucbald called Symphonia he gave the name of diaphonia or organum.

Pope Benedict VIII., hearing that he had invented a new method of teaching, invited him to Rome in order to question him concerning it, and later when Pope John XIX. came to the Papal throne he induced Guido to return to Rome and to bring with him an Antiphonarium written in accordance with the new system of part writing and insisted upon Guido remaining until he, Pope John, had learned to sing from it himself. So although we now know Guido could not have been the inventor of diaphonia, discant, organum nor counterpoint nor of the four lined stave, all of which was at one time credited to him, we do know that he influenced largely through his association with the Papal church the music of his time, and he is now credited with the invention of the principle upon which the construction of the stave is based and of the F and C clef but not of the stave itself.

It was the custom in chanting organum or diaphony for the voices to move in parallel directions, that is, both ascending or both descending, thereby increasing the ease with which all the musicians could keep in tune. During the Twelfth Century a change occurred and a system termed discantus began to appear most prominently in France and the Nether-lands. The other extreme began to be sought and the notes of the highest part were embellished with many ornaments. The melody which it carried acquired a much more rapid movement than that of the second or lower voice which carried the cantus firmus, the foundation of the entire structure. The carrying of the cantus firmus gave the second voice the name of tenor from the Latin " tenere," to hold.

The church had established canonical laws which could not be disregarded, but secular musicians were in no wise hampered in this manner and were free to express their sometimes turbulent spirits in their songs. So it is to them we turn for a study of the artistic growth of music.

Folk-music had been constantly improving. There were legends, stories of war, ballads and serenades whose music had been arranged with no thought of science but only with regard to the dictates of the people. Secular instrumental music had also advanced and served as a means for increasing the progress of vocal effort. The instruments, such as the lute and the flute, had no connection with the church but were far superior to the heavy organ in attaining special effects. The portability and general character of these instruments brought them into general use and this insured for them improvements suggested to the performers as they handled them. On the other hand the organ was not generally understood, and helpful improvements rested entirely with the makers.

The knowledge of music was very largely transmitted orally because of the crude and laborious method of notation. This was a very precarious manner in which to preserve notes and as a consequence the words of many secular songs of a period between the Sixth and Fourteenth Centuries are extant, but the music has been lost. The oldest specimens of such music which are worthy of being considered authentic are those contained in the Lockheimer song-book, a collection of Volkslieder which dates from a period not later than the Fifteenth Century. The preceding unrecorded period is great, but an estimate of the length of time consumed by the development, of which these melodies are the culmination, may be reached by their comparison with the original cantus planus.

The propagation of these songs is romantic and interesting. They were carried from place to place by the hordes of strolling musicians who traversed the country in the north and in the south. To gain success it was necessary that they be proficient in many things and extremely versatile. They were compelled to sing and play many selections, a task which was not made easier by the fact that there were no musical scores to which they might refer. They must under-stand how to play upon various instruments which they carried with them. They must be able to compose verses which would suit any occasion or subject, and they must be competent leaders in any merry-making. They either traveled alone, in small groups, of whom one was often the master and the others his assistants, or in companies containing women and children who took part in the performances as singers or dancers. These strolling people traveled from castle to castle and from town to town, governed by no law, either social or civil, and acquired the wild and questionable customs bred by such a life. Nevertheless, they accomplished much in assisting the progress of music. They carried that of one country into another, so establishing a general knowledge of the art. They continually composed and, as a matter of course, discovered new beauties and the credit of nearly all the artistic development belongs to them.

Although they had at first been outcasts from the church and had been severely frowned upon, through their assistance in the production of the sacred plays they established them-selves in the good graces of the church. During the first part of the Twelfth Century these Easter or Passion Plays or Mysteries as they were variously termed were conducted by the clergy alone and were given solely in the Latin tongue. As a consequence they were to a large degree meaningless to the mass of the people. In the latter part of the Twelfth Century and during the Thirteenth the language of the people superseded the Latin, and others beside the clergy were capable of assisting in the performance. This offered an opening for the minstrels and they were allowed to take parts, their versatility making them proficient in the art of portraying the characters in the plays. Their great native wit and the fact that for so long they had been cut off from all influence which society or the church might have exerted over them did not imbue them with any too much reverence and they began to introduce humorous allusions which, although they detracted from the original religious purpose of the plays, greatly enhanced their interest for the people.

Not only did the lowly strollers make a profession of music but gentlemen of the courts adopted it. The Troubadours in the south and the Minnesingers in Germany and the Minstrels in England who were nobles and knights claiming to sing and compose for art's sake alone, employed the strolling musicians as accompanists and assistants who did anything which their masters did not care to do, or imposed upon them. To increase their means these assistants became instructors in the art, giving lessons at the places which they visited, thus engaging in an untold degree in disseminating a knowledge of it. They were often more gifted than their masters and in performing the music composed by the latter often infused touches which made it much more the music of the people and gave it qualities which appealed to them. The popular element thus gained was largely instrumental in leading the masses to adopt the art and thus perpetuate it.

The nobles disdained to demand pay for their services as entertainers, considering it beneath their station and a practise only worthy of their lowly assistants. However, they were nothing loath to accept gifts from the princes and ladies before whom they performed. They clung to their noble traditions and gave to the music a refinement and dignity which would have been entirely lacking had their assistants, the jongleurs, absorbed it as a profession.

Three forces were at work in the development of the art. The severe, unprogressive system of the church, the refinement and delicacy of the Troubadours and Minne-singers, and the uncouth, wild, yet at times beautiful music of the people. They were three forces equally necessary for its perfect development. Without either an essential quality would have been lost. The church preserved its pure, dignified music, but the secular songs were carried from country to country, receiving new touches as they traveled until they assumed an intricate and many-sided beauty.

The Crusaders had a very marked influence upon music. The returning Crusaders brought new musical knowledge from the East. The surge of religious enthusiasm which prompted these movements added a refining effect as did the improved morality of the times, and secular music assumed a greater artistic perfection. Thus it is seen that the folk-song gave birth to artistic music, but during the Middle Ages church music assumed the character of an art whose progress continued freely and uninterruptedly. It may be noticed that this was a period of increased activity in all the arts. Painting acquired a more developed form at the same time that polyphony came into existence. The world had reached the point where the preparation of centuries merged into a sudden and astonishing development. The nations of western Europe had become civilized and had gradually acquired the arts of civilization, for culture is always last to come into evidence in the progress of a people.

Paris is to be regarded as the seat of great musical learning during the period from the Twelfth Century to the middle of the Fifteenth. Here was the foundation of the first purely national school of music and was followed by numerous others, the Netherlands, the Neapolitan, the German, and the English. About this time there appeared among the active musicians, that is, those who composed and taught and wrote treatises on theoretical music, men who were not of the church ; and with them was ushered in a more interesting period in musical history.

As discant and organum advanced toward perfection it became necessary to regulate the length of notes employed and thus arose a new form of music called measured chant. Franco of Cologne, a most noteworthy theorist of the early Thirteenth Century, was the earliest known writer on this subject. In his treatise, Ars Cantus Mensurabilis, he mentions four kinds of notes, the double long or large, the long, the breve and semibreve. Of the large, long, breve and semibreve there were two kinds, the perfect so named by Franco in honor of the Ever Blessed Trinity, and the imperfect. Every perfect note was equal to three notes of the next lesser denomination; every imperfect to but two. From this arrangement sprang the rhythmic forms called perfect and imperfect time. Perfect time corresponds with our modern triple time, while the imperfect answers to the common or duple or quadruple time of modern music.

The other chapters of his work dealt with ligatures and rests and Franco succeeded in instituting his system of measurement, the observance of which occupied musicians for a comparatively short time. It was by no means an aid in the production of beauty, but rules which were complicated in the extreme are found in all treatises of the time. It bears no relation to the advance of counterpoint, but to a large extent occupies the attention of the musical historians during the first half of the Thirteenth Century.

The term discantus had been used to designate the ornamental variation of the main subject of the song; it was really a counterpoint above the plain-song, but until the middle of the Thirteenth Century the term contrapunctus had not appeared. The characters used in the notation of music had in the early stages of musical history been called points and the new name which supplanted that of discant was derived from the expression punctus contra punctum (point against point), and signified two parts progressing by means of notes of equal value. The note of one part sounded simultaneously with the corresponding note of the other part, the effect of one being set against the effect of the other.

About this time there appeared a reaction against the Franconian system of measurement. Several new musical theorists came into existence and effected a complete revolution. An ars nova (new art) sprang up in contradistinction to the ars antiqua (antique art) of Franco. Innovations had been recognized in regard to the measured discant which did not add to its development but rather covered it with a cloak of intricacies which completely hid its really good qualities. Musicians had been striving after perfection, but in their experiments had been led through devious paths which only led them farther away from their desire. Consequently a radical change was necessary to bring about an advance.

The writers of measured discant had employed methods which were difficult and unusual in the extreme. Instead of composing an original cantus firmus and upper part or discant, they had, grown into the custom of combining already existing songs, using one for the cantus firmus and one or more others for the upper parts. The songs so adopted were generally written in totally dissimilar but strongly marked rhythms, and the only common characteristic was the triple measure in which practically all music was then written.

One of the first changes to be introduced which was significant of the reaction was the return to use of duple measure which had gradually ceased to be employed, triple measure being favored because of its fancied relation to the Holy Trinity. However, the one measure became unpleasantly monotonous and thus brought about a revival of duple time. Another important innovation was the introduction of signs representing tones of smaller time value than had been in use previously. The semibreve, equal to our whole note, had been the smallest, but this was divided into two smaller notes which were given the name of minim. In turn the crotchet was introduced, two of which were equal to one minim. The smaller notes made possible more accelerated movement of the parts and one part might contain many more notes than the others, in some. instances four, six, seven and even nine semibreves were set against one breve, the notes of other values being used in a similar manner. This accommodated the combination of songs of different lengths which would not have been possible with the old custom of employing notes of equal length and but one syllable to a note.

Jean de Muris of Normandy who lived during the first seventy years of the Fourteenth Century was not only a composer of especial note but also a superior philosopher, mathematical and musical theorist, has by his historical and theoretical writing given a clear and valuable insight into the conditions existing during his time. He has called attention to several instances in which the composers have attempted tasks of extreme difficulty in combining songs of very dissimilar lengths. In one the cantus firmus consisted of eighteen breves, the discantus accompanied nine syllables of text and a third voice just above the discantus was furnished with thirty-eight syllables of text, the melody allowing thirty-two semibreves for eleven of the syllables. The manipulation necessary to write the two melodies and to success-fully allot the syllables to the notes resembles the solving of a problem in mathematics rather than the expression of an art. Through this method of procedure the most absurd and inappropriate variations appeared. De Muris in a moment of vexation addresses his contemporaries thus : " You throw tones by chance like boys throwing stones, scarcely one in a hundred hitting the mark, and instead of giving pleasure you cause anger and ill-humor. Oh, what gross barbarism ! " John Cotton pointedly compared them to revelers who, " reaching home safely, cannot tell how or by what way they came."

The changes here recorded led to one extremely important departure. Complete ornate settings of various portions of the Ordinary of the Mass were composed for the first time. The Antiphonal and the Gradual had been treated in this manner, but the Ordinary appears to have retained its original form of organum until this period at the close of the Thirteenth Century, when the music of the church had entered a new era, one which led to the introduction of forms that were frivolous in the extreme. The older ideals had been put aside and new ones were being raised. Composers were accustoming themselves to radical changes in notation, rhythm, measure and methods of writing and were preparing for a period in musical history which deals with one of the greatest advances in theory and practice that any one period comprises. The changes which had been occurring in France, where musical activity seemed to center around Paris, were noted with apparent interest by the Italians who now assumed an important part in the development. The return of imperfect measure to actual use appealed to them strongly and in the specimens of music from the two schools during the earliest Fourteenth Century the tendency of the Italians toward the newer duple measure is evident while the French exhibit an inclination to cling to the older triple measure. The Italian composers early mastered the effective use of rhythms, and syncopation. They were able to create music which was free of movement and pleasant to hear. Their use of syncopation was more sparing than the French who employed this method to such an extent that combined with their laborious and monotonous rhythms it caused their music to assume an irregular appearance. Frequent changes of rhythm are indeed acceptable to the ear, but nothing is gained by too often removing the accent from the first to some other beat of a measure.

The Italians were instrumental in developing a very important device, the canon. The French had employed it, but without the success which attended the efforts of the newer school.

In Italy canon was written in only two parts, as were nearly all compositions. Three parts were not usual and four parts were indeed rare. The knowledge of canon was universal, however, and both the French and English wrote in four parts during the first of the Fourteenth Century. In canon one voice led out in a melody and each successive voice was given the same melody, beginning at some point after the preceding voice and retaining the same relation throughout the composition. All of the parts were not always written, but the melody for the first voice would be notated in full and a cross would be used to indicate the point where the second voice was to take it up. It was during this period that canon received its name. The term first referred to the rules governing its performance but gradually came to mean the device itself.

About this time there were five species of intervals which were recognized as consonant by musicians. They were three which were perfect the octave, the fifth and the unison; and two which were imperfect — the major sixth and the third, the most natural progressions were considered to be from perfect to imperfect intervals and vice versa.

The music of the church had been affected to an extreme degree by the changes which had been introduced in composing. The strict plain-song of Gregory had lost favor in comparison with the freer style in which the various voices were furnished with equally characteristic movements. This drawing away from the church's traditions very naturally was extremely unsatisfactory to the ecclesiastics. The newer method of composition had at first only been employed for secular music, but eventually music of this style had come into use at gatherings held on the feast days of the church and gradually it found a place in the church service. The introduction had been so very gradual that the officials of the church did not fully realize what was occurring and with open eyes allowed the entrance of much which was entirely opposite to the simple and flowing organum in which the voices remained the same interval apart throughout a composition. Furthermore, the choristers were allowed to improvise their parts, and although the music in the books of service remained the same in appearance when sung the effect was totally different from that designed by the composer. The practise of extempore discant allowed all manner of unusual variations to be introduced. The character of the music to a large degree depended upon the mood of the singer. If he were happy his music would contain more ornaments and he would sing with more spirit than if he were depressed. The practise also required a musical knowledge greater than many of the choristers possessed and those who were not properly qualified were likely to introduce dissonances where they should not be and to exaggerate in every possible manner. Writers began to express their disfavor of the methods employed in the service and in time the attention of the authorities was drawn to the abuses which were being perpetrated. One writer likened the chants to the songs of Sirens and declared that music defiled the service of religion. Another became so sarcastic as to remark a striking resemblance between the facial contortions of the choristers and the agonies of a dying man. Jean de Muris, who has been quoted before, declared that the uneducated singers performed " their leaps and other vocal antics at inopportune moments. They bark and bay in the manner of dogs, and like lunatics delight in disorderly and aimless hurryings to and fro."

With the more extensive use of notes of smaller value music in general had assumed an effect of greater rapidity. This quality was regarded as entirely unsuited for sacred music and was considered wanton in the extreme. Another reason for the introduction of inappropriate music into the service may be found in the admittance of laymen into the choir. Gregory had decreed that none but those duly appointed should be allowed to sing in the church and as long as this rule was adhered to abuses were not liable to occur, for the position was retained throughout a lifetime and the singers were always under the surveillance of the church.

The church officials attempted to bring about a change for the better by means of remonstrances and admonitions, but their efforts proved futile. The composers and the choristers ignored their requests and it required drastic measures to accomplish their object. Therefore, in the year 1322, Pope John XXII. issued an edict in which he forbade the use of discant, even of the most elementary kind, in the church services. The edict was strictly to the point and it required that never again should the music of the church be depraved with discants, nor that the counterpoint be stuffed in its upper voices with secular songs. He described the new music as intoxicating to the ear and demanded that in case any one was found guilty of singing in discant during any church service the culprit be suspended from office for eight days. Occasionally, as on feast days or in the solemn celebration of the mass, it would be correct to forego the strict plain-song and observe such consonant intervals as the eighth, fifth and fourth, which the Pope acknowledged as heightening the beauty of melody. Voices might sing at these intervals above the plain chant, but never in such a way as to divert the attention from the cantus firmus itself.

It is also interesting to note that at this time the church authorities with great freedom expressed their disapproval of the Ionian mode which corresponds with the modern major mode and whose use tended to the production of music bearing a more striking resemblance to our present ideal. In fact, they stigmatized this mode as lascivious together with the freer counterpoint and the use of the intervals of thirds and sixths, all of which practises in the course of five centuries became absolute necessities to the writing of music which would meet with approval.

The desires of the Pope were strictly heeded and the florid discant was silenced in the church. The effects of the edict did not entirely disappear during the Fourteenth Century. However, the forbidden fruit had been tasted and it was in no wise an easy matter to eradicate the desire for freer music. Gradually there grew into use a method by which it was possible to obey Pope John's edict in the letter if not in the spirit. The device originated in France and was termed faux bourdon or false tenor. It was designed to be sung by three voices, and when written consisted of a strict organum in two parts a fifth apart with an additional voice half-way between, making thirds with the others. According to the Pope's edict the third voice should have doubled one of the other voices in its octave or else sung in unison with one of them and its position as a third to each was irregular in the extreme. However, the singers complicated matters in their interpretation of the notes. Of the three singers to whom the parts were allotted, two carried the upper two parts as written, but a third to whom was left the lowest part, the cantus firmus or tenor, possessed the highest voice of the three and instead of reading the notes as written he would sing them transposed to an octave above. Consequently the singing voices did not follow the prescribed parallel fifths, but the organum was composed of sixths and thirds. The effect was flowing and much more artistic than that produced by the strict organum, and, although this was the very element which the church authorities had been desirous of exterminating, their musical knowledge was so meager that they did not realize that the singers were juggling with the written notes in such a manner as to completely do away with the required interval of a fifth and to disregard most audaciously the canons of the church.

Nevertheless, the faux bourdon adapted itself to chanting with exceeding grace and in time openly assumed the name which signified the falsity of its rendering and became instituted as proper music for use in the services. The device is still used in the church, under the name of falsobordone, irr the polyphonic method of chanting the psalms and responses. The greatest composers have used it in obtaining certain effects. For example, progressive thirds and sixths are employed by Mozart in the priests' chorus in his Magic Flute and by Beethoven in his grand Mass in C.

The English adopted the method giving it the name of fa-burden, thus anglicizing the French name. They absorbed it to a much greater degree than had the French originators and their music of the period displays its influence.

A common English method was discant supra librum and is of enough interest to warrant our attention. Three voices were typical of this form, the tenor, the contratenor and the supranus. The singers, whose number varied, gathered before a book containing the required cantus firmus and the tenor sounded the first note of the plain-song. The contratenor replied with the tone a fifth above and the supranus with the octave. By this means each established his distance from the plain-song. The tenor led with the plain-song and beat the time while the contratenor accompanied him, note against note, with perfect concords, almost entirely in contrary motion, however, and keeping within his range. which was from a fourth above to a fifth below his initial note. The supranus was supposed to watch the plain-song but was not required to accompany it note for note. On the other hand, he was allowed all freedom to bring in such notes as he desired, the only requirement being that each measure begin and end with the note which he would have sung had not he been following the rules of the ancient plain organum. The supranus must also see to it that all the principal notes of each measure were concordant with the tenor. This style of extempore music is hard to appreciate at this age. Any number of singers were allowed in each of the parts, and although they might thoroughly understand the rules which they were to follow, it is hardly possible that each one would attempt exactly the same notes throughout the ornamental supranus and the effect must surely have been curious when such was the case.

Thomas Morely, who is said to have been intimately connected with Shakespeare in literary work, in 1597 said that it caused him to marvel " how men acquainted with music can delight to hear such confusion as of force must be amongst so many singing extempore." And indeed such is the case.

An account of discant supra librum given by Simon Tunstide in his treatise as measurable music at the close of the Fourteenth Century points to a very perceptible influence exerted upon it by faux bourdon. Theorists had previously thought it necessary for the supranus, or voice carrying the ornamental variation, to introduce concordant tones, but Tunstide insisted upon the use of imperfect intervals, such as thirds and sixths, and advised the supranus to avoid as far as possible all perfect concords. By this time more than three voices were allowed in the discant and it is probable that two of them were allotted the duty of introducing ornamental parts while the other voices carried the strict organum. Therefore, it would have been extremely easy for the two freely moving voices to observe only intervals of thirds and sixths with the cantus firmus in accordance with the faux bourdon. However, all in all, this method of extempore singing was indeed dangerous, for it was practically impossible to avoid some of the things which were deemed as strictly contrary to good counterpoint, such as consecutive perfect intervals. For a chorus to sing successfully their work must be mapped out for them by the composer and the members of each group of voices must sing in unison, so that they may produce the desired effect with the other groups. That every member of some groups could freely extemporize without regard for his associates is almost beyond comprehension and their united efforts must have resulted in a hodge-podge of sound overwhelming to Twentieth Century ears.

The various innovations which have been remarked were steadily increasing the limits of good counterpoint. The original intervals of an octave, a fifth and a fourth no longer occupied the minds of musicians but thirds and sixths had claimed consideration. Thirds had attained such prominence that a device called gymel had appeared, although it never attained any great importance. This was a method of writing for two parts so that they remained an interval of a third apart. Variety was obtained by allowing the parts to cross each other by which means the upper voice would temporarily assume a position below the lower, although retaining the. relation of a third. Gymel was doubtless an abbreviated form of faux bourdon, with the highest or third part omitted. Its effect was rather meager as compared with its parent, and it became the ambition of composers to remedy the defect. This they did, not by returning to the older faux bourdon of conservative thirds and sixths above the cantus firmus or tenor, but by introducing something entirely new by adding a contratenor bassus, descending below the tenor in fifths and thirds. Thus at the end of the Fourteenth Century musicians had created a firm foundation upon which to build their art. They had invented a system of polyphony which recognized a variety of intervals. They had broken away from the canons of the church with such assurance of purpose that the severing was permanent and the pursuance of the art of music for art's sake alone had become such an established fact that it refused to ever again be governed by rules established by those who were without musical knowledge.

Gregory had done untold things for music when in the Seventh Century he established schools for the training of choristers, but the active value of these schools in regard to music in general had worn out by the beginning of the Fifteenth Century. The world's progress demanded new methods, and the institution of chapels or organizations of musicians as necessary adjuncts to the principal courts of Europe had the necessary effect. These institutions formed a part of the household to which they belonged, be it king's, prince's, or of the lesser nobility. The members were subservient only to their employers and it was their duty to please in the highest degree either with composition or with interpretation of music. Secular music received a wonderful impetus. Not only was the position of singer in a chapel royal one of honor but there were liberal compensations appertaining to it. On the other hand the choristers were generally under-paid and were under strict church rules, in many instances being required to be ecclesiastics. Naturally the strong comparison between the old and the new institutions of music caused the most energetic and gifted musicians to seek admittance into the chapels, and here they competed with one another to produce original and artistic compositions. Special knowledge or inclinations were necessary to obtain admittance and great effort toward perfection was required to insure a permanent position.

The age of extempore composition was past and the rules which had governed that rather haphazard method were transferred to the more serious composition, which was notated throughout. Successive faux bourdon which had previously been so very popular found little favor under the new conditions. It was more the outgrowth of a childish beginning than a proper implement with which to advance an art. At first the church modes were strictly adhered to, thereby greatly limiting the range of available notes, and, although during the first part of the Fifteenth Century, there was a remarkable advance in the beauty and flow of melody, the composers had not yet rid themselves of all the con-fining and arbitrary rules which instead of assisting in writing graceful music retarded all progress and led composers into aimless discords so that by combining the melodies their good qualities were sadly weakened.

During the first half of the Fifteenth Century England possessed a contrapuntist who served greatly in advancing the art. This was John of Dunstable, who died in 1453. He gave life and vigor to the science of counterpoint and possessed enough genius to sever the bonds of arbitrary discords and similar unnatural and unnecessary features. Dun-stable's music may be judged by several compositions, sacred or secular, which are extant. However, only a comparatively few of Dunstable's compositions have as yet been de-ciphered and scored. The obscurity of his notation and the many personal characteristics which he allowed to creep into it allowed the world only a meager knowledge of him for some time. His music excelled in beauty and in sweetness and purity of sound, but at no time did it possess any decided adaptability to the sentiment of the words which it accompanied. He understood the art of following an effective plan and of using contrivances which enabled him to introduce variety and yet bring his musical plan to a desirable completion. This was a most acceptable innovation as compared with the hitherto aimless proceedings of composers. Dun-stable's good qualities were reflected in the compositions of his contemporaries and followers so that there grew up a style of counterpoint in which the older plain-song was displaced by a system of different metres occurring simultaneously by which the otherwise monotonous and inexpressive material was presented more effectively and canon was introduced, although it figured more extensively in the lighter music. Dunstable was not entirely alone in inaugurating the methods which he did, but both in France and the Nether-lands there existed contemporaneously those who displayed equally advanced ideas, thus indicating that the time had indeed come for advancement and that the power to progress was allotted to typical composers of distinct countries.

Dunstable is dear to the heart of the English historian of music. He raised himself from an obscure boy, distinctly of the people, to a man for whom the country mourned not only as a composer but as a good, true man. He received false honor at the hands of Lustig, a Dutch historian, who discovered in him a saint, although it is certain that Lustig must have confused the musician with St. Dustin, an English ecclesiast living during the Tenth Century.

Despite the strides which Dunstable made in the realization of artistic propriety and improved construction there clung tenaciously to musical minds the idea of arbitrary discords without any consideration as to their value in increasing the beauty of the composition or in introducing and making more acceptable certain concords. So firm a hold did it have that even as late as the Sixteenth Century there existed composers who were not rid of it.

With the passing of Dunstable and a few less worthy successors, the musical glory of England declined and attention is directed to France and to the Low Countries. About 1435 a perceptible change in the methods of composition made its first appearance. The old harshness became less noticeable and fulness and impressiveness of tone grew to be a usual quality of music.

Among the French composers a name which stands for progress and worthy achievement is that of Guillaume Dufay, who lived from 1400 to 1474. When twenty-eight years of age he became a member of the Pope's choir, an organization which included the majority of the notable composers of the time. It was there that the musicians of France and of the Low Countries mingled with the musicians of the School of Venice and were enabled to learn from each other the new ideals which were so soon to show themselves. While Dufay remained in the Papal choir his compositions possess few characteristics which denote the powers of the writer. It was not until after his appointment as Canon of Cambrai that his special style developed. He was not only able to compose flowing melodies but combined them in such a way as to accentuate their best qualities and to erect a beautiful whole. He devoted his best efforts to the Mass and differed from his English contemporaries in making extensive use of canon in this connection. He also developed canon and employed it freely and even brought it into the prominence of the leading device. He was cunning in combining this with the unequal measures, as for instance, introducing a theme in the two upper voices according to the perfect measure and later repeating it in the tenor according to imperfect measure. He was equally successful in employing the originally simple faux bourdon and ornamented counter-point. However, even Dufay fell short in choosing a definite purpose as a framework for his compositions and the music, flowing and sweet though it was, did not grasp the mind and insistently express some thought.

Following Dufay came a transitional school of musicians in whose hands canon and imitation received effective treatment. Although the ancient writers called the device then in use canon it hardly conforms with the present idea of what the term means. Now it requires that one or more voices should repeat entirely the progression of the first voice, one after another. The older device would now more properly be termed imitation, for to modern conceptions it was nothing more than prolonged imitation. Musicians had treated imitation very ineffectively. Only casually did they seize upon opportunities of repeating in one voice a progression which had previously appeared in another. The theme with its imitation would appear only two or three times during the composition and then be abandoned. Often several themes were treated in this manner. There now appeared in the last of the Fifteenth Century a growing realization of the possible beauties which could be derived from methodical treatment of imitation.

Imitation and canon are devices belonging strictly to counterpoint and, during this period when the musical minds were entirely occupied with that branch of music, it seems that musicians at last grasped their true value. Imitation was not limited to two voices as before, but appeared in every part. Formerly the voices had taken up the theme to be repeated only in the unison or at the interval of an octave, but now the fifth began to be considered a proper interval to be used. As the Fifteenth Century was ending composition improved noticeably. The gropings of musicians were being rewarded, and they were approaching the highest development of counterpoint. Their efforts to find a proper outlet for their musical ideas had furnished them with various methods and devices, some of them worthless in aiding progress but valuable in having served as a foundation upon which to expend efforts which in truth led to valuable discoveries.

Dufay was considered the most prominent composer of his time and well fills the position of leader of what is known as the Gallo-Belgic School. After his death, Johannes Okeghem, a native of East Flanders, succeeded to the leader-ship and from this dates the beginnings of the Netherlands School. Okeghem was between forty and fifty years of age at this time and had spent much of his life in the chapel of the King of France, to the head of which he had attained. It is rather surprising that a man who had lived for so long in a foreign country and who held the state position which he did should have exerted such a remarkable influence upon the musicians of his mother country. However, without a doubt, many of them were his associates in the chapel and their attention was drawn to him because of the bond of brotherhood.

Okeghem, great as he was, possessed a somewhat academic style and his music was encumbered with many inartistic superfluities. He continued the development of canonic imitation as it descended to him from Dufay and made frequent use of the device of simultaneously introducing metres of various proportions. It may be said that he attained the highest point of subtle ingenuity in handling the canon. He brought the mechanical contrivances then in the possession of musicians to a condition which may be deemed classical and the fundamental conception which he had of canon has remained unchanged as a monument of his ability. The inartistic touches which he unfortunately added were readily dropped by his successors and it may even be asserted that Johann Sebastian Bach, whose name stands for perfection in counterpoint, merely employed Okeghem's style of canon. Furthermore, his shortcomings as to artistic development are more than overshadowed by his achievements in other respects. His successors and imitators advanced the one step which he had failed, they discovered that music was a most proper vehicle for the expression of emotions and very easily overcame the scientific bent of their master.

It is indeed of interest to note that Glareanus, renowned for his work in regard to the modes, was a contemporary of Okeghem, and that it is to his writings that we are indebted for a more complete knowledge of the composer.

Among the many devices whose use Okeghem mastered were augmentation and diminution. By means of diminution in canon the passage repeated was written in notes of smaller value than those in which it appeared originally and consequently moved at a more rapid pace. Since the repetition began only a few measures after the original, and because of its greater agility, it gained upon its leader and soon they would sound the same note simultaneously and further repetition would be impossible. Augmentation was the opposite of diminution and by its use the notes of the repetition were of greater time value than were those of the original and the tendency of the first part was to so far outdistance the voices in which the imitation occurred as to take away all the effect of the device, the hearer having time to forget the original before the imitation occurred. The written notes were not changed to indicate the change in value but the lengthening or shortening was indicated by the words crescit or decrescit in duplo, triplo, or whatever the composer desired.

Another device was one termed inversion canon. In this the intervals of the original appeared inverted in the repetition so that a passage which had been ascending became descending. A retrograde form of canon was also popular. In this the cantus firmus was repeated interval for interval, but instead of the repetition beginning with the initial note of the cantus firmus it began with the last note and was sung backward. The composer who could employ the largest number of these devices and numerous less important ones in a single composition was considered most praise-worthy. Okeghem was extremely cunning in this respect, but he also was capable of creating new devices.

It is more than easy to understand how these purely mechanical devices were capable of occupying the minds of musicians to the exclusion of real beauties, but for all this Okeghem's compositions show the work of a master. The melodies, in spite of the rules which they observe, are flowing and sweet and his music is without that awkwardness which mars the work of many of his contemporaries. The forms of canon which have been mentioned have proved themselves worthy of the importance with which they were viewed by their originators in that they remained in use to be raised to a higher plane by Bach. There were, however, other forms which soon assumed the character of musical curiosities. One demanded the repetition of the cantus firmus beginning with the second note of the melody and ending with what had been the initial note. In another all the rests contained in the cantus firmus were omitted. And in still another all the shortest notes of the cantus firmus were ignored in the repetition.

During Okeghem's time music did not escape the spirit of mystery which permeated the Middle Ages ; canons were written in a manner which has since won for them the name of riddle canons. The various parts were not written out, but the entire composition consisted of a formula containing only a few notes superscribed with a Latin phrase whose interpretation was limited to the initiated few and which indicated the manner in which the other parts were to imitate; that is the point where the imitation began and the special device was to be observed. Thus a composition of considerable size could be notated in an ordinary line of music. Generally the riddle canon was marked " Plures ex una " (many from one), meaning that from the one written part several were to be evolved. These seemingly unnecessary mannerisms of the Fifteenth Century composers were but the usual worthless material that always comes into use in the development of any movement.

After Okeghem and his special work in relation to the canon the name which is looked upon as preeminent is that of Josquin Depres, or Després. He was the most gifted of Okeghem's pupils and the one in whose music the touches of the master are most apparent. Depres was born in Conde, Hennegau, about 1450 and died at his native place in 1521. His contemporaries termed him the " Prince of Music " and he was greatly honored among them. His acknowledged genius is somewhat shown in the manner in which Germany, France and Italy for years contended for the honor of being his birthplace. Depres took a most comprehensive course of instruction in order to fit himself for the position of singer in the Papal chapel at Rome. It was during this course that he studied under Okeghem. In Rome, Depres displayed his superior qualities and the people became most enthusiastic over his learning and genius. Later he became the head of the royal chapel of Louis XII. of France. The king at one time desired that a popular French melody be arranged in such a way that he should have a special part. Depres was indeed confronted with a task, for the king had almost no musical knowledge and an extremely feeble voice. However, the composer was equal to the occasion and arranged the chanson for two boys' voices, adding a special part consisting of a single note running throughout the piece. This he reserved for the king and sang the bass and principal part himself.

Depres devoted himself largely to arranging settings for the Ordinary of the Mass. This was a subject which was deemed very fitting for use in displaying skill in the use of the various devices. Nevertheless, there is a very perceptible strain of real beauty running throughout his music. It attempted to express somewhat the same sentiment as did the words it accompanied.

While the Netherlands, the French, the Germans and the several other schools of composers on the Continent were contenting themselves with creating and working out difficult problems involving the use of intricate canonic repetitions, in England there was forming a reactionary school. The attention of the English musicians reverted to the older plain form of counterpoint and they felt convinced that this with perhaps an occasional use of imitation as adornment could supply the necessary and proper interest of a composition.

However, the activity that draws the attention of the historian to England received a setback at a very early period. The breaking away from the church at Rome created a necessity for an entire change in church music. Composers were required to handle new subject material and they were confronted with the unpleasant realization that all the work which they had previously done was worthless for the new church forms.

Tye and Tallis were perhaps the most noteworthy members of the English School. Tye was the elder by nearly ten years, having been born about 1500. Both were members of the royal chapel, Tallis ending his life in the service of Queen Elizabeth in 1585. He was very strict in his use of plain counterpoint without simultaneous notes of various values or of imitations. He displayed his skill in this direction in his setting of the new Litany of the English church in 1544, done according to explicit directions that absolutely plain treatment be observed. Tye did not observe as strict rules in his counterpoint as did Tallis, but the sternness was relieved by its dissolution toward the close of every composition into running notes and various ornamental effects. Tallis has left a most striking monument of his abilities in a motet in forty parts. It consists of eight individual trebles, eight mezzosopranos, eight contratenors, eight tenors and eight basses. Each of the forty parts was treated carefully and displays individual characteristics, and the whole structure fulfils all the demands of good counterpoint.

The attention of the church at Rome as well as that of the English church was again being turned to the quality of music in use in the service. The meaning of the words had become almost extinct because of the running notes and over-lapping repetitions of phrases. The service was made up of intricate music and the sentiments it was supposed to express had entirely disappeared. Some passages were so rapid that it was impossible for the singers to properly enunciate the distinct syllables and in others the words were dragged out to such an extent that all sense was lost during the pauses. However, the attention of the church bore fruit in many examples of plainer compositions which now appeared. The psalms received an entirely new treatment, one collection bearing the inscription, " The Psalmes of David in English Meter, with Notes of four parts set unto them by Gulielmo Damon, for John Bull, to the use of the godly Christians fore recreating themselves instede of fond and unseemly ballades."

In 1520 at the town of Mons in Holland, there was born Orlandus Lassus in whose hands the work of the Netherlands School assumed a higher importance than that attained by the English School. Lassus was admitted as chorister in the Church of St. Nicholas in Mons when he had only reached the age of eight, at which early time he began a serious study of his art. He is known also by the name of Roland Delattre and the incident which brought about this change of name had a great influence upon his life. His father had been apprehended in counterfeiting money and was made to walk three times around the public scaffold with the spurious money made into a collar worn about his neck. The young son was so mortified that he immediately changed his name from Delattre to Lassus, and it was this unpleasant occurrence which later influenced him to go to Italy when sixteen. Lassus has received unstinted praise for his ecclesiastical compositions. They are impressive and exhibit the breadth of the composer's musical powers. The melodies of which his counterpoint is made up were handled so as to produce beauty and artistic perfection and he was equally capable of regarding them from the harmonic standpoint. Formerly composers either could only view their polyphonic compositions from the melodic stand-point or only from the harmonic, but Lassus combined the qualities of both. He was very prolific and his versatility was extreme. He received many honors during his life and was an intimate of King Charles IX. while staying in Paris. The story is told that the king was seized with severe remorse after the massacre of St. Bartholomew's eve and in a feverish effort to overcome his emotion directed Lassus to write music for the Penitential Psalms.

The composer who realized all the promises of the period was Palestrina, born at about the same time as Lassus. His talent was even more unusual and he served as a model for his associates and successors. His superior taste and judgment made it possible for him to use to the very best purpose the materials which he found ready for him. Al-though he did little or no creation of devices, Palestrina had a wide knowledge of music and that of his countrymen did not suffice him. From the specimens which he studied he was in no way loath to gather suggestions which are to be found utilized in his best efforts.

Palestrina favored the old plain counterpoint and the parallel movement of all the parts. He derived variety by changing the value of the notes and by introducing short intervals of contrary movement. His melodies were especially expressive and he discovered a more pleasing approach toward a close and a more successful close itself. Heretofore closes had been very awkward affairs.

We have learned in the preceding chapter how the artistic purity of Palestrina was instrumental in saving church music from extinction, a fate with which it was threatened because of the non-religious form it had assumed. Palestrina discovered the secret of writing music which was both simple and pure as to construction and expressive of religious thought. In the days of Ambrose and Gregory and later in the Fourteenth Century, at the time of the edict of Pope John XXII., when the church held matters in its own hands and surrounded its music with iron-clad rules, it was prompted more by a conviction that the church should have absolute sway over everything connected with it than by any knowledge of the artistic fitness of that which it enforced. Palestrina, however, established a standard which has since been observed by composers of church music not only be-cause the church approved of it but because it perfectly fulfilled all requirements by being strictly religious.

Bach stands at the head of contrapuntists. No one has since appeared who can supersede him and consequently the history of contrapuntal development ends with him. He made few if any innovations, but employed the material which he found already in use with an artistic touch.

Bach was a poor boy who in his youth encountered many of the proverbial hardships all geniuses must overcome. Not only was he without sufficient means to easily supply a thorough education but he was to some extent dependent upon the assistance of an elder brother, Johann Christopher, who developed an unpleasant jealousy of the more gifted Johann Sebastian. Both brothers were musical, and although both were especially proficient in organ playing the story goes that Johann Christopher had in his possession a collection of organ compositions by the masters which he himself had copied. Prompted by his jealousy he refused to allow the younger brother to copy them. However, Johann Sebastian, nothing daunted, surreptitiously secured them, and, it is said, copied them by moonlight.

Bach was of the sixth generation of a family whose musical instincts had first found expression in the zither playing of the original Bach. Johann Sebastian was the culmination, and succeeding him the glory of the family declined. He not only exhibited unusual musical capacities but advanced rapidly in his classical studies. In music he never evinced any need of an instructor to supplement the elementary teachings of his brother, Johann Christopher. His powers of concentration were marked in the extreme and he often worked all through the night in order to satisfy himself in some line of knowledge.

The first position of any great importance which he held allowed him the munificent remuneration of fifty-seven dollars per year, but although he was one of the artists of the time and had only reached the indiscreet age of eighteen, this so amply provided for his wants that after only a few years he was able to afford an extended journey and monetary assistance to an indigent cousin.

Bach's artistic ability was truly peculiar to himself. He delighted in allowing himself to be entirely influenced by the spirit of the words which he was accompanying and to attempt to carry out the particular sensations produced. He was capable of especially beautiful effects when reproducing ideas of visions, and a choral, " From Heaven came the angel host," is typical of his skill. The cantus firmus moves on uninterruptedly in a simple style adaptable to congregational singing, but the accompanying parts are so artistically interwoven, one ascending and another descending, that the impression of the angels coming down to the shepherds on the first Christmas morning and then soaring upward again, is clear to the hearer.

One of the keys which unlocked Bach's genius so that he accomplished a freer style was his careful study of Italian music. The broadening influence which this exerted imparted to his work a clearness of purpose and a delicate finish which the heavier German School had never accomplished. Bach's vocal compositions which were designed for choir work were almost totally ignored during his lifetime and remained for-gotten for some time after his death. Their unusual character and their difficulty of performance must be considered as the reason for this neglect, but in 1829, over seventy-five years after the composer's death, the production of his " St. Matthew Passion " marked the beginning of the world's realization of their excellence.

He had at last discovered what his predecessors had been vainly groping for and he opened an era of " new music " as it is called. The first work of composers in this field was not particularly noteworthy, for they were not entirely accustomed to the new conditions. They were as navigators in a new sea and it was necessary for them to get their bearings. They were enthusiastic with an enthusiasm which knew no rebuffs due to unjust criticism of their work because it did not conform to established conceptions of right and wrong. They did not realize, but they were creating new methods and forms which in time were to become the standard by which future compositions would be judged. Harmony began to occupy their attention and the Seventeenth Century was devoted almost entirely to the development of this branch of the art.

With the beginning of the Eighteenth Century came the opening of the era of Johann Sebastian Bach. His effect upon polyphonic music was great in the extreme. He left it changed in every particular from the condition in which he found it. The new music which came into life during this period was of a much freer character. Contrapuntists previous to him were prone to regard their music only as to the progressions of its melodies, that is, they regarded it from the horizontal point of view. Bach and his successors regarded it both from the horizontal or melodic and the vertical or harmonic standpoint. Counterpoint had become more intricate. Not only must the melodies flow purely and gracefully, but the simultaneous tones of the several melodies must be subservient to the rules of harmony as well.

The growth of counterpoint has proved itself to have been very slow, but the point has now been reached when it is possible to consider it as it is now studied and written.

Counterpoint is the art of adding to one melody which serves as a foundation for other melodies above or below it in such a manner that when they are sounded simultaneously correct harmony shall be produced. In writing harmony the composer must deal with the construction of chords and their relations to one another, and although the melody of each part is considered to a slight degree when determining the manner in which the progressions from chord to chord be made, it is subordinate in importance to the harmonic construction of the chords. On the other hand, although harmonic purity is absolutely necessary it is by no means sufficient. Each part of melody must progress independent of the others and must possess distinctive features of its own.

We find counterpoint treated under two general heads, simple and double. The melody which is to constitute the foundation of the counterpoint is termed the subject. If one other melody is added to the subject in such a manner that it can be used only in its original position, above or below, it is called a simple counterpoint. If instead it is constructed so that the two parts or melodies can be inverted with regard to one another it is called double counterpoint, the word double having the meaning invertible. The inversion may be at any interval, the most common being that of the octave and the next those of the tenth and twelfth. In double counterpoint the interval of a fifth requires special treatment, for upon inversion it becomes a fourth, an interval which is forbidden in counterpoint unless approached and left by a step. The reason for double counterpoint appears rather obscure to the uninitiated, but its need will be explained in the treatment of fugue in the next chapter.

Triple counterpoint is that in which three melodies are written in such a way as to be capable of inversion between themselves, that is, that each one can be either the highest, the middle, or the lowest part of the harmony. When four melodies are treated in this manner we have quadruple counterpoint. These are much rarer varieties than are single or double. Counterpoint may be written in any number of parts from two up to twelve or more, and may be of any of five species according to the number and arrangement of the notes of the accompanying melody or melodies as compared with those of the given subject.

The first species requires note against note, that is, one note of the accompanying melodies is caused to sound with a note of similar value in the subject or principal melody.

In the second species each note of the subject must be accompanied by two notes of equal value in each of the other melodies.

In the third species each note of the subject must be accompanied by more than two notes of equal value in each of the other melodies.

The fourth species consists of each note of the subject accompanied by two or more notes of equal length with syncopations. This means that the note occurring on an unaccented beat of a measure is tied over to the accented beat of the next measure.

In the first four species the accompanying notes of each measure must be equal, but in the fifth species, or florid counterpoint as it is sometimes called, the subject may be accompanied by notes of various lengths.

There are various ornamental devices which are strictly contrapuntal and which have been noticed historically. Canon may be differentiated as strict and free. When strict the first part is exactly repeated in the succeeding parts, each repetition beginning not later than two measures after the one preceding. When the canon is free it is termed imitation, and only the beginning of a musical idea need be repeated except when the part possesses some especially noticeable progression in the melody, which should be at least approximately repeated or imitated in the other voices. Even though the exact progression is not repeated the other parts should produce an effect similar to that of the first part. The parts in which the repetition occurs may be at any interval from the first part ; hence, it is evident that only the progression can be repeated and not necessarily the notes.

Perfectly plain counterpoint recommends itself as most worthy and most useful for the purpose of study. A knowledge of the peculiarities of strict counterpoint or that which is entirely subservient to more or less stringent rules is necessary that a proper structure may be built upon which to place the ornamental devices. The modern laxity allowed in free counterpoint or that in which the artistic sense of the composer is allowed full play would indeed scandalize the ancient writers, but nevertheless, underneath all its embellishments good counterpoint observes many arbitrary rules.

Counterpoint is difficult to write, requiring a more thorough musical education than does harmony and the student of the theory of music grapples with this subject when well advanced in his course, although some theorists advise the study of harmony and counterpoint at the same time. In itself there is little that will appeal to the seeker after general information, but in its growth there is much that is romantic and even humorous, and the great interests of the ages have affected counterpoint or have been affected by it. Top of Page