Old Scores and New Readings | Page 7

the melody as a means of
effectively declaiming the poet's verse. The poet (naturally) liked
this--hence Milton's compliments. It should be noted that many of the
musicians of this time were poets--of a sort--themselves, and wished to
make the most of their verses; so that it would be a mistake to regard
declamation as something forced by the poet, backed by popular
opinion, upon the musician. With Lawes, then, what we may call the
declamatory branch of the English school culminated. Except in his
avowedly declamatory passages, Purcell did not spin his web precisely
thus; but we shall presently see that his method was derived from the
declamatory method. Much remained to be done first. Lawes got rid of
the old scholasticism, now effete. But he never seemed quite sure that
his expression would come off. It is hard at this day to listen to his
music as Milton must have listened to it; but having done my best, I am
compelled to own that I find some of his songs without meaning or
comeliness, and must assume either that our ancestors of this period
had a sense which has been lost, or that the music played a less
important part compared with the poem than has been generally
supposed. Lawes lost rhythm, both as an element in beauty and a factor
in expression. Moreover, his harmonic resources were sadly limited, for
the old device of letting crossing parts clash in sweet discords that
resolved into as sweet or sweeter concords was denied him. What
would be called nowadays the new harmony, the new rhythm and the
new forms were developed during the Civil War and the Puritan reign.
The Puritans, loving music but detesting it in their churches, forced it
into purely secular channels; and we cannot say the result was bad, for
the result was Purcell. John Jenkins and a host of smaller men
developed instrumental music, and, though the forms they used were
thrown aside when Charles II. arrived, the power of handling the
instruments remained as a legacy to Charles's men. Charles drove the
secular movement faster ahead by banning the old ecclesiastical music
(which, it appears, gave him "the blues"), and by compelling his young
composers to write livelier strains for the church, that is, church music
which was in reality nothing but secular music. He sent Pelham
Humphries to Paris, and when Humphries came back "an absolute
Monsieur" (who does not remember that ever-green entry in the Diary?)
he brought with him all that could possibly have been learnt from Lulli.

He died at twenty-seven, having been Purcell's master; and though
Purcell's imagination was richer, deeper, more strenuous in the ebb and
flow of its tides, one might fancy that the two men had but one spirit,
which went on growing and fetching forth the fruits of the spirit, while
young Humphries' body decayed by the side of his younger wife's in
the Thames-sodden vaults of Westminster Abbey.
IV.
A complete list of Purcell's compositions appears somewhat formidable
at a first glance, but when one comes to examine it carefully the
solidity seems somewhat to melt out of it. The long string of church
pieces is made up of anthems, many of them far from long. The forty
odd "operas" are not operas at all, but sets of incidental pieces and
songs for plays, and some of the sets are very short. Thus Dryden talks
of Purcell setting "my three songs," and there are only half a dozen
"curtain-tunes," _i.e._ entr'actes. Many of the harpsichord pieces are of
tiny proportions. The sonatas of three and four parts are no larger than
Mozart's piano sonatas. Still, taking into account the noble quality that
is constantly maintained, we must admit that Purcell used astonishingly
the short time he was given. Much of his music is lost; more of it lies in
manuscript at the British Museum and elsewhere. Some of it was issued
last century, some early in this. Four expensive volumes have been
wretchedly edited and issued by the Purcell Society, and those amongst
us who live to the age of Methuselah will probably see all the
accessible works printed by this body. Some half century ago Messrs.
Novello published an edition of the church music, stupidly edited by
the stupidest editor who ever laid clumsy fingers on a masterpiece. A
shameful edition of the "King Arthur" music was prepared for the
Birmingham Festival of 1897 by Mr. J.A. Fuller-Maitland, musical
critic of "The Times." A publisher far-sighted and generous enough to
issue a trustworthy edition of all Purcell's music at a moderate price has
yet to be found.
Purcell's list is not long, but it is superb. Yet he opened out no new
paths, he made no leap aside from the paths of his predecessors,