[1] AN ESSAY ON MUSICAL EXPRESSION.

SECT. I. ON THE FORCE AND EFFECTS OF MUSIC.

AS the public inclination for Muſic ſeems every day advancing, it may not be amiſs, at this time, to offer a few obſervations on that delightful art; ſuch obſervations, I mean, as may be chiefly applicable to the preſent times; ſuch as may tend to correct any errors that have ariſen, either in the compoſition, or the practice of muſic.

[2] If we view this art in its foundations [...] we ſhall find, that by the conſtitution o [...] man it is of mighty efficacy in working both on his imagination and his paſſions [...] The force of harmony, or melody alone [...] is wonderful on the imagination. A ful [...] chord ſtruck, or a beautiful ſucceſſion of ſingle ſounds produced, is no leſs raviſhing to the ear, than juſt ſymmetry or exquiſite colours to the eye.

The capacity of receiving pleaſure from theſe muſical ſounds, is, in fact, a peculiar and internal ſenſe; but of a much more refined nature than the external ſenſes: for in the pleaſures ariſing from our internal ſenſe of harmony, there is no prior uneaſineſs neceſſary, in order to our taſting them in their full perfection; neither is the enjoyment of them attend⯑ed either with languor or diſguſt. It is their peculiar and eſſential property, to diveſt the ſoul of every unquiet paſſion, to pour in upon the mind a ſilent and ſerene joy, beyond the power of words to expreſs, and to fix the heart in a [3] rational, benevolent, and happy tran⯑quillity.

But, though this be the natural effect of melody or harmony on the imagination, when ſimply conſidered; yet when to theſe is added the force of Muſical Ex⯑preſſion, the effect is greatly increaſed; for then they aſſume the power of excit⯑ing all the moſt agreeable paſſions of the ſoul. The force of ſound in alarming the paſſions is prodigious. Thus, the noiſe of thunder, the ſhouts of war, the uproar of an enraged ocean, ſtrike us with terror: ſo again, there are certain ſounds natural to joy, others to grief or deſpondency, others to tenderneſs and love; and by hearing theſe, we naturally ſympathize with thoſe who either enjoy or ſuffer. Thus muſic, either by imitating theſe various ſounds in due ſubordination to the laws of air and harmony, or by any other method of aſſociation, bring⯑ing the objects of our paſſions before us (eſpecially when thoſe objects are deter⯑mined, and made as it were viſibly and [4] intimately preſent to the imagination by the help of words) does naturally raiſe a variety of paſſions in the human breaſt, ſimilar to the ſounds which are expreſſed: and thus, by the muſician's art, we are often carried into the fury of a battle or a tempeſt, we are by turns elated with joy, or ſunk in pleaſing ſorrow, rouzed to courage, or quelled by grateful terrors, melted into pity, tenderneſs, and love, or tranſported to the regions of bliſs, in an extacy of divine praiſe.

But beyond this, I think we may ven⯑ture to aſſert, that it is the peculiar quality of Muſic to raiſe the ſociable and happy paſſions, and to ſubdue the contrary ones. I know it has been generally believed and affirmed, that its power extends alike to every affection of the mind. But I would offer it to the conſideration of the public, whether this is not a general and fundamental error. I would appeal to any man, whether ever he found himſelf urged to acts of ſelfiſhneſs, cruelty, treachery, revenge, or malevolence, by [5] the power of muſical ſounds? or if he ever found jealouſy, ſuſpicion, or ingra⯑titude engendered in his breaſt, either from HARMONY or DISCORD? I believe no in⯑ſtance of this nature can be alledged with truth. It muſt be owned, indeed, that the force of muſic may urge the paſſions to an exceſs, or it may fix them on falſe and improper objects, and may thus be pernicious in its effects: but ſtill the paſſions which it raiſes, though they may be miſled or exceſſive, are of the benevolent and ſocial kind, and in their intent at leaſt are diſintereſted and noble^a.

[6] As I take this to be the truth of the caſe, ſo it ſeems to me no difficult matter to aſſign a ſufficient reaſon for it: we have already ſeen that it is the natural effect of air or harmony to throw the mind into a pleaſurable ſtate: and when it hath obtained this ſtate, it will of courſe exert thoſe powers, and be ſuſceptible of thoſe paſſions, which are the moſt natural and agreeable to it. Now theſe are alto⯑gether of the benevolent ſpecies; inaſ⯑much as we know that the contrary af⯑fections, ſuch as anger, revenge, jea⯑louſy, and hatred, are always attended with anxiety and pain: whereas all the various modifications of love, whether human or divine, are but ſo many kinds of immediate happineſs. From this view of things therefore it neceſſarily follows, that every ſpecies of muſical ſound muſt tend to diſpel the malevolent paſſions, becauſe they are painful; and nouriſh [7] thoſe which are benevolent, becauſe they are pleaſing.

The moſt general and ſtriking inſtance of the power of Muſic, perhaps, that we know of, is that related of the Arcadians by POLYBIUS, in the fourth book of his hiſtory; which, as it expreſsly coincides with the ſubject in queſtion, I ſhall ven⯑ture to give the reader entire.

This judicious hiſtorian, ſpeaking of the cruelties exerciſed upon the Cynaethians by the Aetolians, and the little compaſſion that their neighbours had ſhewn them; after having deſcribed the calamities of this people, abhorred by all Greece, adds the following remarks:

[14] Still farther to confirm what is here advanced on the power of Muſic in raiſing the ſocial and nobler paſſions only, I wi [...] tranſcribe a paſſage from the celebrated Baron de MONTESQUIEU.

This learned and ſenſible writer, ani⯑madverting on the ſevere inſtitutions of the Ancients in regard to manners, having referred to ſeveral authorities among the Greeks on this head, particularly to the relation of POLYBIUS above quoted, pro⯑ceeds thus.—

The fact the baron ſpeaks of, ſeems to confirm what is here ſaid on the power of Muſic: for we ſee that Muſic was ap⯑plied by the Greeks to awaken the nobler paſſions only, ſuch as pity, lenity, ten⯑derneſs, and love. But ſhould a ſtate ap⯑ply Muſic to give a roughneſs of man⯑ners, or inſpire the contrary paſſions of hard-heartedneſs, anger, and cruelty, it would certainly miſs its aim; notwith⯑ſtanding that the baron ſeems to ſuppoſe the contrary. For he hath not alledged any inſtance, or any kind of proof in ſupport of his ſuppoſition. It is true, as he obſerves in the ſecond paragraph, that the ſound of drums or trumpets would have a different effect from the more [18] melting tones of ſofter harmony: y [...] ſtill, the paſſions raiſed by theſe marti [...] founds are of the ſocial kind: they ma [...] excite courage and contempt of deat [...] but never hatred or cruelty.

SECT. II. ON THE ANALOGIES BETWEEN MUS [...] AND PAINTING.

FROM this ſhort theory we ſhou [...] now proceed to offer a few obſervatio [...] relating to compoſition.

But as muſical compoſition is know to very few beſides the profeſſors an [...] compoſers of Muſic themſelves; and a [...] there are ſeveral reſemblances, or analo⯑gies between this art and that of paint⯑ing, which is an art much more obviou [...] in its principles, and therefore more ge⯑nerally known; it may not be amiſs t [...] draw out ſome of the moſt ſtriking o [...] theſe analogies; and by this means, i [...] [19] ſome degree at leaſt, give the common reader an idea of muſical compoſition.

The chief analogies or reſemblances that I have obſerved between theſe two noble arts are as follow:

1ſt, They are both founded in geo⯑metry, and have proportion for their ſub⯑ [...]ect. And though the undulations of air, which are the immediate cauſe of ſound, be of ſo ſubtile a nature, as to eſcape our examination; yet the vibrations of mu⯑ſical ſtrings or chords, from whence theſe undulations proceed, are as capable of menſuration, as any of thoſe viſible ob⯑ [...]ects about which painting is converſant.

2dly, As the excellence of a picture [...]epends on three circumſtances, deſign, [...]olouring, and expreſſion; ſo in Muſic, [...]he perfection of compoſition ariſes from melody, harmony, and expreſſion. Me⯑ [...]ody, or air, is the work of invention, [...]nd therefore the foundation of the other [...]wo, and directly analagous to deſign in [...]ainting. Harmony gives beauty and [...]rength to the eſtabliſhed melodies, in [20] the ſame manner as colouring adds life to a juſt deſign. And, in both caſes, the expreſſion ariſes from a combination of the other two, and is no more than a ſtrong and proper application of them to the intended ſubject^d.

3dly, As the proper mixture of ligh [...] and ſhade (called by the Italians Chiar [...] Oſcuro) has a noble effect in painting, and is, indeed, eſſential to the compoſitio [...] of a good picture; ſo the judicious mixture [21] of concords and diſcords is equally eſſential to a muſical compoſition: as ſhades are neceſſary to relieve the eye, which is ſoon tired and diſguſted with a level glare of light; ſo diſcords are ne⯑ceſſary to relieve the ear, which is other⯑wiſe immediately ſatiated with a continued and unvaried ſtrain of harmony. We may add (for the ſake of thoſe who are in any degree acquainted with the theory of Muſic) that the preparations and re⯑ſolutions of diſcords, reſemble the ſoft gradations from light to ſhade, or from ſhade to light, in Painting.

4thly, As in Painting there are three various degrees of diſtances eſtabliſhed, viz. the fore-ground, the intermediate part, and the off-ſkip; ſo in Muſic there are three different parts ſtrictly ſimilar to theſe, viz. the baſs (or fore-ground), the tenor (or intermediate), and the treble (or off-ſkip). In conſequence of this, a muſical compoſition without its baſs, is like a landſcape without its fore⯑ground; without its tenor, it reſembles [22] a landſcape deprived of its intermediate part; without its treble, it is analagous to a landſcape deprived of its diſtance, or off-ſkip. We know how imperfect a picture is, when deprived of any of theſe parts; and hence we may form a judge⯑ment of thoſe who determine on the ex⯑cellence of any muſical compoſition, with⯑out ſeeing or hearing it in all its parts, and underſtanding their relation to each other.

5thly, As in Painting, eſpecially in the nobler branches of it, and particularly in hiſtory-painting, there is a principal figure, which is moſt remarkable and conſpi⯑cuous, and to which all the other figures are referred and ſubordinate; ſo, in the greater kinds of muſical compoſition, there is a principal or leading ſubject, or ſucceſſion of notes, which ought to pre⯑vail, and be heard through the whole compoſition; and to which, both the air and harmony of the other parts ought to be in like manner referred and ſub⯑ordinate.

[23] 6thly, So again, as in painting a groupe of figures, care is to be had, that there be no deficiency in it; but that a certain fulneſs or roundneſs be preſerved, ſuch as Titian beautifully compared to a bunch of grapes; ſo, in the nobler kinds of muſi⯑cal compoſition, there are ſeveral inferior ſubjects, which depend on the principal: and here the ſeveral ſubjects (as in paint⯑ing the figures do) are, as it were, to ſuſtain and ſupport each other: and it is certain, that if any one of theſe be taken away from a ſkillful compoſition, there will be found a deficiency highly diſa⯑greeable to an experienced ear. Yet this does not hinder but there may be perfect compoſition in two, three, four, or more parts, in the ſame manner as a groupe may be perfect, though conſiſting of a ſmaller or greater number of figures. In both caſes, the painter or muſician varies his diſpoſition according to the number of parts, or figures, which he includes in his plan.

[24] 7thly, As in viewing a picture, you ought to be removed to a certain diſtance, called the point of ſight, at which all its parts are ſeen in their juſt proportions; ſo, in a concert, there is a certain diſ⯑tance, at which the ſounds are melted in⯑to each other, and the various parts ſtrike the ear in their proper ſtrength and ſym⯑metry. To ſtand cloſe by a baſſoon, or double-baſs, when you hear a concert, is juſt as if you ſhould plant your eye cloſe to the fore-ground when you view a picture; or as if, in ſurveying a ſpacious edifice, you ſhould place yourſelf at the foot of a pillar that ſupports it.

Laſtly, The various ſtyles in Painting—the grand—the terrible—the graceful—the tender—the paſſionate—the joyous—have all their reſpective analogies in Mu⯑ſic.—And we may add, in conſequence of this, that as the manner of handling differs in Painting, according as the ſub⯑ject varies; ſo, in Muſic, there are various inſtruments ſuited to the different kinds of muſical compoſitions, and particularly [25] adapted to, and expreſſive of, its ſeveral varieties. Thus, as the rough handling is proper for battles, ſieges, and whatever is great or terrible; and, on the contrary, the ſofter handling, and more finiſhed touches, are expreſſive of love, tender⯑neſs, or beauty: ſo, in Muſic, the trum⯑pet, horn, or kettle-drum, are moſt pro⯑perly employed on the firſt of theſe ſub⯑jects, the lute or harp on the laſt. There is a ſhort ſtory in the TATLER^e, which illuſtrates this analogy very prettily. Se⯑veral eminent painters are there repreſent⯑ed in picture as muſicians, with thoſe inſtruments in their hands which moſt aptly repreſent their reſpective manner in Painting.

SECT. I. ON THE TOO CLOSE ATTACHMENT TO AIR, AND NEGLECT OF HARMONY.

THESE obſervations being premi⯑ſed, for the ſake of thoſe who are not particularly converſant in the theory of Muſic; let us now proceed to conſider this art with regard to its compoſition.

We have already obſerved, that there are, properly ſpeaking, but three circum⯑ſtances, on which the worth of any mu⯑ſical compoſition can depend. Theſe are melody, harmony, and expreſſion. When theſe three are united in their full excel⯑lence, the compoſition is then perfect: if any of theſe are wanting or imperfect, the compoſition is proportionably defective. The chief endeavour, therefore, of the ſkillful compoſer, muſt be ‘"to unite all theſe various ſources of beauty in every [27] piece; and never ſo far regard or idolize any one of them, as to deſpiſe and omit the other two."’

Several examples will hereafter be gi⯑ven of conſiderable maſters, who, through an exceſſive fondneſs for one of theſe, have ſacrificed the reſt, and have thus fal⯑len ſhort of that perfection and variety, which a correct ear demands.

The firſt error we ſhall note is, where the harmony, and conſequently the ex⯑preſſion, is neglected for the ſake of air, or rather an extravagant modulation.

The preſent faſhionable extreme of running all our muſic into one ſingle part, to the utter neglect of all true harmony, is a defect much more eſſential than the neglect of modulation only; inaſmuch as harmony is the very cement of all muſi⯑cal compoſition.

As in the work of harmony chiefly, the various contrivances of a good compo⯑ſition are laid out and diſtinguiſhed, which, with a full and perfect execution in all the parts, produce thoſe noble effects we [28] often find in grand performances: ſo we may conſider the improvement of air, as the buſineſs of invention and taſte.

But, if we may judge from the gene⯑ral turn of our modern Muſic (I ſpeak not of the Engliſh only), this due regard, as well to a natural ſucceſſion of melodies, as to their harmonious accompanyments, ſeems generally neglected or forgotten. Hence that deluge of unbounded extra⯑vaganzi, which the unſkillful call inven⯑tion, and which are merely calculated to ſhew an execution, without either pro⯑priety or grace.

In theſe vague and unmeaning pieces, we often find the bewildered compoſer, either ſtruggling with the difficulties of an extraneous modulation, or tiring the moſt conſummate patience with a tedious repetition of ſome jejune thought, ima⯑gining he can never do enough, till he has run through every key that can be crowd⯑ed into one movement; till, at length, all his force being exhauſted, he drops into a dull cloſe; where his languid piece ſeems [29] rather to expire and yield its laſt, than conclude with a ſpirited and well-timed cadence.

Theſe kinds of compoſitions are greatly defective alſo in point of harmony, and chiefly in the baſs, which is often im⯑pertinently airy, or, at beſt, incapable of giving either ſpirit or fullneſs to the treble; in both caſes the compoſer not allotting to the baſs, the only part which it ought to bear in the whole conſtruction, viz. the foundation of all the reſt.

A muſical compoſition, in this light, may not unaptly be compared to the elevation of a building, where it is eaſy to diſcern what are the proportions and ornaments ſuitable to each degree, or aſcent, in the elevation: and where the moſt common obſerver would laugh at ſeeing their order inverted, and the heavy and plain Tuſcan, cruſhing down the light and delicate Ionic.

Thus they ſtrive, rather to ſurprize, than pleaſe the hearer: and, as it is eaſier to diſcern what is excellent in the per⯑formance, [30] than compoſition of Muſic; ſo we may account, why many have been more induſtrious to improve and diſtin⯑guiſh themſelves in the practice, than the ſtudy of this ſcience.

To this ſilly vanity we may attribute that ſtrange attachment to certain un⯑meaning compoſitions, which many of our fluent performers have profeſſed; their chief ambition being to diſcover a ſwift, rather than a judicious or graceful hand. That performers of this taſte have ſo much in their power, is, at once, the misfortune and diſgrace of Muſic: for, whatever merit a compoſition may have in other reſpects, yet if, from a due re⯑gard to the conſtruction of the harmony and fugues, all the parts be put upon a level, and, by that means, their ſupreme pride and pleaſure of a tedious ſolo be not admitted, it is with them a ſufficient rea⯑ſon of condemning the whole.

The generality of our muſical virtuoſi are too eaſily led by the opinions of ſuch maſters; and, where there is no real diſ⯑cernment, [31] prejudice and affectation will ſoon aſſume the place of reaſon. Thus, through the inordinate vanity of a few leading performers, a diſproportionate fame hath been the lot of ſome very in⯑different compoſers, while others, with real merit, have been almoſt totally un⯑known.

It may be worth conſidering, from whence this falſe taſte hath had its riſe. And 1ſt, it may, perhaps, be affirmed with truth, that the falſe taſte, or rather the total want of taſte, in thoſe who hear, and who always aſſume to them⯑ſelves the privilege of judging, hath often produced this low ſpecies of Muſic: for it muſt be owned, that this kind of com⯑poſition is apt, above all others, at firſt hearing, to ſtrike an unſkillful ear; and hence the maſters have often ſacrificed their art to the groſs judgement of an indelicate audience.

But 2dly, It hath often had its riſe from the compoſer's beſtowing his la⯑bour and attention on ſome trifling and [32] unfruitful ſubject, which can never allow of an eaſy and natural harmony to ſup⯑port it. For, however pleaſing it may ſeem in its air, yet if it is not capable of admitting alſo a pleaſing accompanyment, it were much better laid aſide, than car⯑ried into execution. On this account it is, that many fugues are unſufferably te⯑dious: their barren ſubjects affording no variety in themſelves, are therefore often repeated entire; or tranſpoſed, or turned topſey-turvey, inſomuch that little elſe is heard throughout the whole piece^f.

[33] 3dly, Another ſource, and, perhaps, the moſt general, is that low idea of compoſition, wherein the ſubject, or air, is no ſooner led off, than it is immediately deſerted, for the ſake of ſome ſtrange un⯑expected flights, which have neither con⯑nection with each other, nor the leaſt tendency to any deſign whatever. This kind of random work is admirably cal⯑culated for thoſe who compoſe without abilities, or hear without diſcernment; and therefore we need not wonder, that ſo large a ſhare of the Muſic that hath of late appeared, ſhould fall under this deno⯑mination.

How different from the conduct of theſe ſuperficial adventurers in Muſic, is that of the able and experienced com⯑poſer; who, when he hath exerted his fancy on any favourite ſubject, will re⯑ſerve his ſketch, till at his leiſure, and when his judgement is free, he can again and again correct, diminiſh, or enlarge his plan; ſo that the whole may appear, [34] though ſeverly ſtudied, eaſy and natural as if it flowed from his firſt attempt^g.

Many extempore thoughts, thrown out in the fire and ſtrength of imagina⯑tion, have ſtood this critical review, and filled the happy author with uncommon tranſport. It is then he gains freſh vi⯑gour, and renews his toil, to range and harmonize the various melodies of his piece^h.

It may be proper now to mention, by way of example on this head, the moſt noted compoſers who have erred in the extreme of an unnatural modulation; leaving thoſe of ſtill inferior genius, to [35] that oblivion to which they are deſervedly deſtined.

Of the firſt and loweſt claſs are, VI⯑VALDI, TESSARINI, ALBERTI, and LOC⯑CATELLI, whoſe compoſitions, being equal⯑ly defective in various harmony, and true invention, are only a fit amuſement for children; nor indeed for theſe, if ever they are intended to be led to a juſt taſte in Muſic.

Under the ſecond claſs, and riſing above theſe laſt mentioned in dignity, as they pay ſomewhat more of regard to the principles of harmony, may be ranked ſeveral of our modern compoſers for the Opera. Such are HASSE, PORPO⯑RA, TERRADELLAS, and LAMPUGNIANI. Though I muſt take the liberty to ſay, that beſides their too little regard to the principles of true harmony, they are often defective in one ſenſe, even with regard to air; I mean, by an endleſs re⯑petition of their ſubject, by wearing it to rags, and tiring the hearer's pa⯑tience.

[36] Of the third and higheſt claſs of com⯑poſers, who have run into this extreme of modulation, are VINCI, BONONCINI, AS⯑TORGO, and PERGOLESE. The frequent Delicacy of whoſe airs, is ſo ſtriking, that we almoſt forget the defect of har⯑mony, under which they often labour. Their faults are loſt amidſt their excel⯑lencies; and the critic of taſte is almoſt tempted to blame his own ſeverity, in cenſuring compoſitions, in which he finds charms ſo powerful and commanding.

However, for the ſake of truth, it muſt be added, that this taſte, even in its moſt pardonable degree, ought to be diſ⯑couraged, becauſe it ſeems naturally to lead to the ruin of a noble art. We need only compare the preſent with paſt ages, and we ſhall ſee a like cataſtrophe in the art of painting. ‘"For (as an ingenious writer very juſtly remarks) while the maſters in this fine art confined the pencil to the genuine forms of grace and greatneſs, and only ſuperadded to theſe, the temperate embelliſhments of [37] a chaſtiſed and modeſt colouring, the art grew towards its perfection: but no ſooner was their attention turned from truth, ſimplicity, and deſign, than their credit declined with their art; and the experienced eye, which con⯑templates the old pictures with admira⯑tion, ſurveys the modern with indif⯑ference or contemptⁱ."’ ^k

SECT. II. ON THE TOO CLOSE ATTACHMENT TO HARMONY, AND NEGLECT OF AIR.

HAVING noted the reigning defect of the modern compoſers, ariſing from their ſuperficial uſe of modulation, to the utter neglect of all true harmony the next thing that offers itſelf, is the very reverſe of this. I mean, the too ſevere attachment of the Ancients^l to harmony, and the neglect of modula⯑tion. The old maſters, in general, diſ⯑cover a great depth of knowledge in the conſtruction of their harmony. Their ſubjects are invented, and carried on with wonderful art; to which they often add a conſiderable energy and force of ex⯑preſſion: yet, we muſt own, that with regard to air or modulation, they are often defective. Our old cathedral mu⯑ſic [39] is a ſufficient proof of this: here we generally find the more ſtriking beauties of air or modulation, give way to a dry rule of counterpoint: many an elaborate piece, by this means, inſtead of being ſo⯑lemn, becomes formal; and while our thoughts, by a natural and pleaſing me⯑lody, ſhould be elevated to the proper objects of our devotion, we are only ſtruck with an idea of ſome artificial contri⯑vances in the harmony.

Thus the old Muſic was often con⯑trived to diſcover the compoſer's art, as the modern is generally calculated to diſ⯑play the performer's dexterity.

The learned contrapuntiſt may exerciſe his talent in many wonderful contri⯑vances, as in fugues and canons of various ſubjects and parts, &c. But, where the maſter is thus ſeverely intent in ſhewing his art, he may, indeed, amuſe the un⯑derſtanding, and amaze the eye, but can never touch the heart, or delight the ear.

I have often thought that the ſtate of Muſic, at different times, might, very [40] appoſitely, be compared to the ſeries of alterations in the art of building. We cannot, indeed, with the ſame certainty and preciſion, determine what may have been the perfection of Muſic, in its ori⯑ginal ſtate, among the Ancients: yet, the ſhort analogy which follows, may ſerve to evince, that both theſe arts have varied according to the taſte of particular ages.

It is well known, that in old Greece and Rome architecture was in its higheſt perfection; and that, after their ſeveral empires were overthrown, theſe glorious monuments of their taſte and genius were almoſt entirely deſtroyed. To theſe ſucceeded a ſtrange mixture of the antique and barbarous Guſto, which has ſince been diſtinguiſhed by the name of Gothic. In theſe latter ages this art has gradually returned to its former ſtate; and the an⯑cient reliſh of the grand, the ſimple, and convenient is revived.

And thus we may diſtinguiſh the three great aeras of Muſic.

[41] Amongſt the Ancients, the true ſim⯑plicity of melody, with, perhaps, ſome mixture of plain unperplexed harmony, ſeems to have been that magic ſpell, which ſo powerfully inchanted every hearer.

At the revival of this art in the time of Pope GREGORY, a new ſyſtem, and new laws of harmony were invented, and afterwards enlarged by GUIDO ARE⯑TINO: but this ſerved only to lead the plodding geniuſes of thoſe times (and ſince, their rigid followers) to incumber the art with a confuſion of parts, which, like the numerous and trifling ornaments in the Gothic architecture, was productive of no other pleaſure, than that of wonder⯑ing at the patience and minuteneſs of the artiſt, and which, like that too, by men of taſte, hath long been exploded^m.

At preſent our taſte is greatly more diverſified, more ſubjected to the genius [42] and language of particular countries, and leſs confined by thoſe rigorous laws; the leaſt deviation from which, was formerly thought an unpardonable offence; as if thoſe laws were intended to fix the boun⯑daries of genius, and prevent the ad⯑vancement of ſcience.

But, as we have ſaid, the art (though ſtill fluctuating) has now gained much freedom and enlargement, from theſe minute and ſevere laws, and is returning nearer to its ancient ſimplicity. The moſt eminent compoſers of late years, have not ſhewn any great fondneſs for a multiplicity of parts, which rather de⯑ſtroy than aſſiſt the force and efficacy of Muſic: neither have they deprived the charms of melody of their peculiar pro⯑vince, by ſtunning the ear with an har⯑mony too intricate and multifarious. And, I believe, upon a general ſurvey of the particular genius of different maſters, we ſhall find, that thoſe who have the leaſt of nature in their compoſitions, have generally endeavoured to ſupply the [43] want of it, by the ſeverer application of art.

Yet, I would by no means be thought to include all the old maſters in this cenſure: ſome of them have carried mu⯑ſical compoſition to that height of excel⯑lence, that we need think it no diſgrace to form our taſte of counterpoint on the valuable plans they have left us. Num⯑bers of theſe indeed have fallen, and de⯑ſervedly, into oblivion; ſuch, I mean, who had only the cold aſſiſtance of art, and were deſtitute of genius. But there are others of this claſs, who, although the early period in which they wrote, naturally expoſed them to the defect here noted; yet the force of their genius, and the wonderful conſtruction of their fugues and harmony, hath excited the admira⯑tion of all ſucceeding ages. And here we ſhall find, that the compoſers of this claſs will naturally fall into three different ranks, in the ſame manner as thoſe we have already ventured to characterize in the preceding ſection.

[44] Among theſe, PALESTINA, the firſt, not only in point of timeⁿ, but of ge⯑nius too, deſerves the high title of father of harmony. And the ſtyle of our great old maſter TALLIS^o, evidently ſhews he had ſtudied the works of this great com⯑poſer, who lived to ſee his own ſyſtem of harmony take root, and flouriſh in many parts of Europe; but more eſpecially in Italy, where he was immediately ſucceed⯑ed by ſeveral eminent maſters, among whom, perhaps, ALLEGRI may be eſteem⯑ed the chief; whoſe compoſitions, with thoſe of PALESTINA, are ſtill performed in the Pope's chapel, and other choirs abroad: in all theſe maſters we ſee the ſame grand conſtruction of parts, and a parallel defect of modulation.

After theſe we may rank CARISSIMI, STRADELLA^p, and STEFFANI: authors [45] of a much later date, indeed, and who lived alſo at different times: yet their works, though, in general, of the ſame character with thoſe of PALESTINA, are not, perhaps, of ſo high a claſs in one reſpect, nor ſo low in another. I mean, that although their character is that of excellence in harmony and defect in air; yet they are not ſo excellent in the former, nor ſo defective in the latter, as the vene⯑rable PALESTINA.

From the time of theſe maſters to the preſent, there has been a ſucceſſion of [46] many excellent compoſers, who ſeeing the defects of thoſe who preceded them, in the too great neglect of air, have adorn⯑ed the nobleſt harmonies by a ſuitable modulation: yet ſtill, ſo far retaining the ſtyle of the more ancient compoſitions, as to make the harmonic conſtruction the leading character of their works; while the circumſtance of modulation remains only as a ſecondary quality. Such are the chaſte and faultleſs CORELLI; the bold and inventive SCARLATTI^q; the ſub⯑lime CALDARA; the graceful and ſpirited RAMEAU^r.

[47] To theſe we may juſtly add our illu⯑ſtrious HANDEL; in whoſe manly ſtyle we often find the nobleſt harmonies; and theſe enlivened with ſuch a variety of modulation, as could hardly have been expected from one who hath ſupplied the town with muſical entertainments of every kind, for thirty years together^s.

[48] Theſe ſeem to be the principal au⯑thors, worthy the attention of a muſical enquirer, who have regarded the harmonic ſyſtem and the conſtruction of fugues as the principal object of their care; while at the ſame time, they have regarded the circumſtance of modulation ſo far as to deſerve a very high degree of praiſe on this account, though not the higheſt.

SECT. III. ON MUSICAL EXPRESSION, SO FAR AS IT RELATES TO THE COMPOSER.

SO much concerning the two branches of muſic, air and harmony: let us now conſider the third circumſtance, which is expreſſion. This, as hath been already obſerved, ‘"ariſes from a combination of the other two; and is no other than a ſtrong and proper application of them to the intended ſubject."’

From this definition it will plainly appear, that air and harmony are never to be deſerted for the ſake of expreſſion: becauſe expreſſion is founded on them. And if we ſhould attempt any thing in defiance of theſe, it would ceaſe to be Muſical Expreſſion. Still leſs can the hor⯑rid diſſonance of cat-calls deſerve this appellation, though the expreſſion or imitation be ever ſo ſtrong and natural.

And, as diſſonance and ſhocking ſounds cannot be called Muſical Expreſſion; [50] ſo neither do I think, can mere imitation of ſeveral other things be entitled to this name, which, however, among the generality of mankind, hath often ob⯑tained it. Thus the gradual riſing or fall⯑ing of the notes in a long ſucceſſion, is often uſed to denote aſcent or deſcent; broken intervals, to denote an interrupted motion; a number of quick diviſions, to deſcribe ſwiftneſs or flying; ſounds re⯑ſembling laughter, to deſcribe laughter; with a number of other contrivances of a parallel kind, which it is needleſs here to mention. Now all theſe I ſhould chuſe to ſtyle imitation, rather than expreſſion; becauſe it ſeems to me, that their ten⯑dency is rather to fix the hearer's atten⯑tion on the ſimilitude between the ſounds and the things which they deſcribe, and thereby to excite a reflex act of the un⯑derſtanding, than to affect the heart and raiſe the paſſions of the ſoul.

Here then we ſee a defect or impro⯑priety, ſimilar to thoſe which have been above obſerved to ariſe from a too parti⯑cular [51] attachment either to the modulation or harmony. For as, in the firſt caſe, the maſter often attaches himſelf ſo ſtrongly to the beauty of air or modulation, as to neglect the harmony; and in the ſecond caſe, purſues his harmony or fugues ſo as to deſtroy the beauty of modulation; ſo in this third caſe, for the ſake of a forced, and (if I may ſo ſpeak) an un⯑meaning imitation, he neglects both air and harmony, on which alone true mu⯑ſical expreſſion can be founded.

This diſtinction ſeems more worthy our notice at preſent, becauſe ſome very eminent compoſers have attached them⯑ſelves chiefly to the method here men⯑tioned; and ſeem to think they have ex⯑hauſted all the depths of expreſſion, by a dextrous imitation of the meaning of a few particular words, that occur in the hymns or ſongs which they ſet to muſic. Thus, were one of theſe gen⯑tlemen to expreſs the following words of Milton,

It is highly probable, that upon the word divide, he would run a diviſion of half a dozen bars; and on the ſubſequent part of the ſentence, he would not think he had done the poet juſtice, or riſen to that height of ſublimity which he ought to expreſs, till he had climbed up to the very top of his inſtrument, or at leaſt as far as a human voice could follow him. And this would paſs with a great part of mankind for muſical expreſſion; inſtead of that noble mixture of ſolemn airs and various harmony, which indeed elevates our thoughts, and gives that exquiſite pleaſure, which none but true lovers of harmony can feel.

Were it neceſſary, I might eaſily prove, upon general principles, that what I now advance concerning muſical imita⯑tion is ſtrictly juſt; both, becauſe Muſic as an imitative art has very confined powers, and becauſe, when it is an ally to [53] poetry (which it ought always to be when it exerts its mimetic faculty) it obtains its end by raiſing correſpondent affections in the ſoul with thoſe which ought to reſult from the genius of the poem. But this has been already ſhewn, by a judicious writer^t, with that preciſion and accuracy which diſtinguiſhes his writings. To his excellent treatiſe I ſhall, therefore, refer my reader, and content myſelf, in this place, with adding two or three practical obſervations by way of corollary to his theory.

1ſt, As Muſic paſſing to the mind through the organ of the ear, can imi⯑tate only by ^u ſounds and motions, it ſeems reaſonable, that when ſounds only are the objects of imitation, the compoſer ought to throw the mimetic part entirely amongſt the accompanying inſtruments; becauſe it is probable, that the imitation will be too powerful in the voice which ought to [54] be engaged in expreſſion alone; or, in other words, in raiſing correſpondent af⯑fections with the part^x. Indeed, in ſome caſes, expreſſion will coincide with imita⯑tion, and may then be admitted univer⯑ſally: as in ſuch chromatic ſtrains as are mimetic of the grief and anguiſh of the human voice^y. But to the imitation of ſounds in the natural or inanimate world^z, [55] this, I believe, may be applied as a ge⯑neral rule.

2dly, When Muſic imitates motions, the rythm, and caſt of the air, will generally require, that both the vocal and inſtru⯑mental parts coincide in their imitation. But then, be it obſerved, that the com⯑poſer ought always to be more cautious and reſerved when he applies this faculty of Muſic to motion, than when he applies it to ſound: and the reaſon is obvious; the intervals in Muſic are not ſo ſtrictly ſimilar to animate or inanimate motions, as its tones are to animate or inanimate ſounds. Notes aſcending or deſcending by large intervals, are not ſo like the ſtalk⯑ing of a Giant^a, as a flow of even notes [56] are to the murmuring of a ſtream^b; and little jiggiſh ſlurrs are leſs like the nod [57] of Alexander ^c, than certain ſhakes and [58] trills are to the voice of the nightin⯑gale^d.

3dly, As Muſic can only imitate mo⯑tions and ſounds, and the motions only imperfectly; it will follow, that muſical imitation ought never to be employed in repreſenting objects, of which motion or ſound are not the principal conſtituents. Thus, to light, or lightning, we annex the property of celerity of motion; yet it will not follow from thence, that an ex⯑tremely ſwift progreſſion of notes will raiſe the idea of either one or the other; be⯑cauſe, as we ſaid, the imitation muſt be, in theſe caſes, very partial^e. Again, it is one property of froſt to make perſons ſhake and tremble; yet, a tremulous [59] movement of ſemitones, will never give the true idea of froſt: though, perhaps, they may of a trembling perſon.

4thly, As the aim of Muſic is to af⯑fect the paſſions in a pleaſing manner, and as it uſes melody and harmony to obtain that end, its imitation muſt never be employed on ungraceful motions, or diſ⯑agreeable ſounds: becauſe, in the one caſe, it muſt injure the melody of the air; and in the other, the harmony of the accom⯑panyment; and, in both caſes, muſt loſe its intent of affecting the paſſions plea⯑ſingly.

5thly, As imitation is only ſo far of uſe in Muſic, as when it aids the expreſſion; as it is only analogous to poetic imitation, when poetry imitates through mere natural media^f, ſo it ſhould only be employed in the ſame manner. To make the ſound echo to the ſenſe in deſcriptive lyric, and, perhaps, in the cooler parts of epic poe⯑try, is often a great beauty; but, ſhould the tragic poet labour at ſhewing this art [60] in his moſt diſtreſsful ſpeeches; I ſuppoſe he would rather flatten than inſpirit his drama: in like manner, the muſical compoſer, who catches at every parti⯑cular ^gepithet or metaphor that the part affords him, to ſhew his imitative power, will never fail to hurt the true aim of his compoſition, and will always prove the more deficient in proportion as his au⯑thor is more pathetic or ſublime.

What then is the compoſer, who would aim at true muſical expreſſion, to per⯑form? I anſwer, he is to blend ſuch an happy mixture of air and harmony, as will affect us moſt ſtrongly with the paſſions or affections which the poet intends to raiſe: and that, on this account, he is not principally to dwell on particular words in the way of imitation, but to compre⯑hend the poet's general drift or intention, and on this to form his airs and harmony, [61] either by imitation (ſo far as imitation may be proper to this end) or by any other means. But this I muſt ſtill add, that if he attempts to raiſe the paſſions by imitation, it muſt be ſuch a temperate and chaſtiſed imitation as rather brings the object before the hearer, than ſuch a one as induces him to form a com⯑pariſon between the object and the ſound: for, in this laſt caſe, his attention will be turned entirely on the compoſer's art, which muſt effectually check the paſſion. The power of Muſic is, in this reſpect, parallel to the power of Eloquence: if it works at all, it muſt work in a ſecret and unſuſpected manner. In either caſe, a pompous diſplay of art will deſtroy its own intentions: on which account, one of the beſt general rules, perhaps, that can be given for muſical expreſſion, is that which gives riſe to the pathetic in every other art, an unaffected ſtrain of nature and ſimplicity ^h.

[62] There is no doubt but many rules may be deduced, both from the compoſitions [63] of the beſt maſters, and from experience, in obſerving the effects which various ſounds have upon the imagination and af⯑fections. And I don't know, whether the ſame propriety, in regard to the part of expreſſion in poetry, may not as well be applied to muſical expreſſion; ſince there are diſcordant and harmonious in⯑flections of muſical ſounds when united, and various modes or keys (beſides the various inſtruments themſelves), which, [64] like particular words, or ſentences in writ⯑ing, are very expreſſive of the different paſſions, which are ſo powerfully excited by the numbers of poetryⁱ.

Thus the ſharp or flat key; ſlow or lively movements; the ſtaccato; the ſoſte⯑nute, [65] or ſmooth-drawn bow; the ſtriking dieſis ^k, all the variety of intervals, from a ſemitone to a tenth, the various mixtures of harmonies, the preparation of diſcords, and their reſolution into concords, the ſweet ſucceſſion of melo⯑dies; and ſeveral other circumſtances be⯑ſides theſe, do all tend to give that variety of expreſſion which elevates the ſoul to joy or courage, melts it into tenderneſs or pity, fixes it in a rational ſerenity, or raiſes it to the raptures of devotion.

When we conſider the fulneſs of harmony, and variety of air, which may be included in the art of compoſing fugues, we may pronounce this ſpecies of compoſition, of all others, the moſt noble [66] and diffuſive; and which, like hiſtory-painting, does not only contain the chief excellencies of all the other ſpecies, but is likewiſe capable of admitting many other beauties of a ſuperior nature. But here, in the term fugue, I do not include alone, thoſe confined compoſitions, which proceed by regular anſwers, according to the ſtated laws of modulation, but chiefly, ſuch as admit of a variety of ſubjects, particularly for voices and inſtruments united; and which, with their imitations, reverſes, and other relative paſſages, are conducted throughout the whole, in ſub⯑ordination to their principal; and, as the leſſer beauties or decorations in poetry are ſubſervient to the fable of a tragedy, or heroic poem, ſo are theſe different, though kindred airs, in the ſame move⯑ment, in like manner, ſubſervient to ſome one principal deſign; and productive of all the grandeur, beauty, and propriety, that can be expected from the moſt exten⯑ſive plan in the whole range of muſical compoſition.

[67] By a diverſity of harmonies, the chain and progreſſion of melodies is alſo finely ſupported; and thence, a greater variety of expreſſion will be found in the con⯑ſtruction of full Muſic. In this caſe, the compoſer hath the advantage of throwing his tender and delicate paſſages into the ſolo, or thoſe of a bolder ex⯑preſſion into the chorus; and as there are oftentimes a kind of neutral airs, if I may ſo call them, which, by the per⯑former's art, may be made expreſſive of very different paſſions; or, as the ſame words, by a change in their accent, con⯑vey a different ſenſe; ſo this muſical ex⯑preſſion may be varied in ſuch a manner, that the ſame paſſage, which has been heard alone, if repeated, may alſo be form⯑ed into chorus; and è contra, the chorus into ſolo. In like manner may be diſ⯑poſed the forte and piano.

We may alſo here remark, that in ranging different movements, in the ſame concerto, or in other ſuites of different airs, the confined order of keeping, in [68] the ſequel of theſe, to one or two keys, at moſt, produces but an irkſome mono⯑tony of ſounds: for it is not ſufficient, that different movements are of different ſpecies; their changes ſhould alſo appear, as well in their keys, as in their air: and the compoſer of taſte will ſhew his art in the arrangement of theſe different pieces, as well as in his variety of modula⯑tion, or other contrivances, in the ſame piece ^l.

[69] And, as diſcords, when judiciouſly managed, give their ſucceeding concords a yet more pleaſing harmony; in like man⯑ner ſome happy contrivance in changing the key of ſeparate movements, whether from flat to ſharp, or vice verſa, will ſtill, in a higher degree, afford relief and pleaſure to the hearer: many alterations of this kind may ſurely be affected with⯑out the leaſt diſagreeable ſurprize; ſince we are not always delighted when the mo⯑dulation follows, as we naturally expect it, nor always ſhocked when that expecta⯑tion is diſappointed.

Thus, by contrivances of this nature, we are charmed with an agreeable variety, [70] and which, perhaps, equally to the moſt ſtriking air, commands the admiration of many lovers of Muſic, who yet can no otherwiſe account for the preference they may give to a fine compoſition, than purely from the pleaſure it affords them. In fine, it is this maſterly taſte and method of ranging, in beautiful order, the diſtinguiſhed parts of a compoſition, which gives the higheſt delight to thoſe who can enter into the real merits of this art:—a circumſtance, the muſical ſtudent would do well to conſider, before he en⯑gages in any trial of his talent that way. But, as example is of much greater force than any rule or precept whatever; I would recommend to him, a conſtant peruſal of the beſt compoſitions in ſcore, where he will find all the information he can deſire on this head^m.

[71] After all that has been, or can be ſaid, the energy and grace of muſical expreſſion is of too delicate a nature to be fixed by words: it is a matter of taſte, rather than of reaſoning, and is, therefore, much better underſtood by ex⯑ample than by precept. It is in the works of the great maſters, that we muſt look for the rules and full union of air, harmony, and expreſſion. Would modern compoſers condeſcend to repair to theſe fountains of knowledge, the public ear would neither be offended nor miſled by thoſe ſhallow and unconnected compoſi⯑tions, which have of late ſo much abound⯑ed, eſpecially thoſe inſipid efforts that are [72] daily made to ſet to Muſic that flood of nonſenſe which is let in upon us ſince the commencement of our ſummer enter⯑tainments, and which, in the manner they are conducted, cannot poſſibly prove of any advantage to Muſic: trifling eſſays in poetry muſt depreſs, inſtead of raiſing, the genius of the compoſer; who vainly at⯑tempts, inſtead of giving aid to ſenſe (Muſic's noble prerogative), to harmonize nonſenſe, and make dulneſs pleaſing.

Thus, it fares with Muſic, as it fares with her ſiſter Poetry; for it muſt be owned, that the compoſitions laſt men⯑tioned, are generally upon a level with the words they are ſet to: their fate too is generally the ſame; theſe inſect pro⯑ductions ſeldom out-living the ſeaſon that gives them birth.

It has been juſtly enough alledgedⁿ, with regard to the Italian operas, that there are alſo many improprieties in theſe, which offend even the moſt common ob⯑ſerver; [73] particularly that egregious abſur⯑dity of repeating, and finiſhing many ſongs with the firſt part; when it often happens, after the paſſions of anger and revenge have been ſufficiently expreſſed, that re⯑concilement and love are the ſubjects of the ſecond, and, therefore, ſhould conclude the performance. But, as if it were un⯑natural to leave the mind in this tranquil ſtate, the performer, or actor, muſt re⯑lapſe into all that tempeſt and fury with which he began, and leave his hearers in the midſt of it.

I have juſt hinted this unaccountable conduct of the Italian compoſers, by way of contraſt to a conduct as remark⯑ably ridiculous in our own; I mean, our manner of ſetting one ſingle trifling air, repeated to many verſes, and all of them, perhaps, expreſſive of very different ſen⯑timents or affections; than which, a greater abſurdity cannot poſſibly be ima⯑gined, in the conſtruction of any muſical compoſition whatſoever.

[74] What may farther be obſerved in the compoſition of theſe little airs, is the ge⯑neral method of repeating the ſame thought in the Ritornello, which is heard in the ſong. By this means, the burthen of the tune, be it ever ſo common, muſt inceſſantly jingle in the ear, and produce nothing but ſome wretched alternations between the inſtrument and voice.

On the contrary, if the ſubject of the ſong was relieved by different paſſages in the inſtrumental part, but of a ſimilar air with the vocal; this kind of variety might ſupport the repetition of the whole, with ſomewhat more ſpirit.

Among the many excellent ballads which our language affords, I ſhall men⯑tion that of Black-ey'd Suſan, wrote by Mr GAY; and propoſe it as a ſpecimen, to ſhew by what methods a compoſer might handle this genus of the lyric poem: and which, indeed, is no other than to treat them, as the Italians have ge⯑nerally managed thoſe little love-ſtories which are the ſubject of their ſerenatas: [75] —a kind of muſical production, ex⯑tremely elegant, and proper for this pur⯑poſe. Therefore, I would recommend to our vocal compoſers, ſome ſuch method of ſetting to muſic the beſt Engliſh ſongs, and which, in like manner, will admit of various airs and duetts, with their reci⯑tative, or muſical narratives, properly in⯑terſperſed, to relieve and embelliſh the whole.

Thus one good ballad may ſupply a fruitful genius with a variety of inci⯑dents, wherein he will have ſufficient ſcope to diſplay his imagination, and to ſhew a judgement and contrivance in adapting his ſeveral airs to the different ſubjects of the poetry. By this means, not only a genteel and conſiſtent per⯑formance might be produced, but alſo fewer good maſters would laviſh their muſical thoughts on ſubjects ſo far be⯑neath them: nor, on this account, would there be any dearth of thoſe agreeable and familiar airs, which might properly be calculated for thoſe entertainments, where [76] the public ear ſhould be always conſulted; and of which I have ſo good an opinion, that, were this difference between a juſt or falſe taſte but fairly ſubmitted to its deciſion, I ſhould not diſpute, but the compoſition which was moſt natural and pleaſing, would bid faireſt for the general approbation.

Yet, ſo long as our compoſers proſe⯑cute their ſtudies without the leaſt know⯑ledge of any works but ſuch as are on a level with their own, they muſt never ex⯑pect to advance in the eſteem of their judges. For, as the ſtriking beauties in a fine compoſition, elevate and enliven the fancy; ſo is it depreſſed and vitiated by too great a familiarity with whatever is mean and trifling.

He, therefore, that is bleſſed with hap⯑py talents for this art, let him ſhun all the means of catching the common air, which ſo ſtrangely infects and poſſeſſes too many compoſers; but, unleſs he has the virtue of the bee, who,

I fear, he muſt baniſh himſelf from almoſt every place of public reſort, and fly, per⯑haps, to monaſteries and cells, where the genuine charms of harmony may often, indeed, be found, for ſtores to grace his future productions.

Our church muſic is equally capable of improvements from the ſame ſources of taſte and knowledge. We ſeem, at preſent, almoſt to have forgot, that devo⯑tion is the original and proper end of it. Hence that ill-timed levity of air in our modern anthems, that fooliſh pride of execution in our voluntaries, which diſ⯑guſts every rational hearer, and diſſipates, inſtead of heightening, true devotion.

If our organiſt is a lover of poetry, without which, we may diſpute his love for Muſic; or indeed, if he has any well⯑directed paſſions at all; he cannot but feel ſome elevation of mind, when he hears the pſalm preceding his voluntary, pro⯑nounced [78] in an awful and pathetic ſtrain: it is then he muſt join his part, and with ſome ſolemn air, relieve, with religious chearfulneſs, the calm and well-diſpoſed heart. Yet, if he feels not this divine energy in his own breaſt, it will prove but a fruitleſs attempt to raiſe it in that of others: nor can he hope to throw out thoſe happy inſtantaneous thoughts, which ſometimes far exceed the beſt-concerted compoſitions, and which the enraptured performer would often gladly ſecure to his future uſe and pleaſure, did they not as fleetly eſcape as they ariſe. He ſhould alſo be extremely cautious of imitating common ſongs or airs, in the ſubjects of this latter kind of performance; other⯑wiſe he will but too much expoſe religion to contempt and ridicule.

It may not derogate from our ſubject of church-muſic, juſt to mention the pre⯑ſent method of ſinging the common pſalm tunes in the parochial ſervice, which are every where ſung without the leaſt regard to time or meaſure, by [79] drawling out every note to an unlimited length. It is evident, that both the com⯑mon and proper tunes were originally in⯑tended to be ſung in the alla-breve time, or the regular pointing of two, three, or four minims in a bar:—a kind of move⯑ment, which every ear, with the leaſt practice, may eaſily attain: nor when they are ſung in parts, ſhould there be any more than three, i. e. one treble, tenor, and baſs; as too complex an harmony would deſtroy their natural air. And, in this ſtyle, our pſalm tunes are capable of all the ſolemnity that can be required from ſuch plain and unadorned harmony^o.

[80] Whoever has heard the Proteſtant congregations abroad ſing, in parts, their pſalms or hymns, may recollect, with ſome pleaſure, that part of their religious worſhip; and their exceeding us ſo far in a performance of this kind, is chiefly owing to the exact meaſure in which thoſe tunes are ſung, and not to their harmony: for the greateſt part of our own, which were compoſed ſoon after the Re⯑formation, by thoſe excellent maſters we had at that time, would doubtleſs be found, as well in regard to their ſolemn air, as harmony, equal, if not ſuperior, to any compoſitions of their kind. And we may further obſerve, that air is, in a higher degree, productive of both ſo⯑lemnity and chearfulneſs, than harmony: for there is a dignity and grace in the [81] former, when invented by genius, which a maſterly harmony may indeed aſſiſt, but can never produce.

However trifling it may appear to conſider this ſpecies of Muſic, I cannot but own, that I have been uncommonly affected with hearing ſome thouſands of voices hymning the Deity in a ſtyle of harmony adapted to that awful occaſion. But ſorry I am to obſerve, that the chief performer, in this kind of noble chorus, is too often ſo fond of his own conceits; that, with his abſurd graces, and tedious and ill-connected interludes, he miſleads or confounds his congregation, inſtead of being the rational guide and director of the whole.

It may be thought, perhaps, by thus depriving our organiſt of this public op⯑portunity of ſhewing his dexterity, both in his voluntary and pſalm tune, that all performers indiſcriminately might be ca⯑pable of doing the duty here required: but it will be found no ſuch eaſy matter to ſtrike out the true ſublimity of ſtyle, [82] which is proper to be heard, when the mind is in a devout ſtate; or, when we would be greatly ſolemn, to avoid the heavy and ſpiritleſs manner, which, inſtead of calmly relieving and lifting up the heart, rather ſinks it into a ſtate of depri⯑vation.

We might ſoon arrive at a very dif⯑ferent ſtyle and manner, as well in our compoſitions as performance; did we but ſtudy the works of the beſt chapel⯑maſters abroad, as CALDARA, LOTTI, GASPARINI, and many others, whoſe ex⯑cellent compoſitions ought ſurely to be better known, and reſcued from the poſ⯑ſeſſion of thoſe churliſh virtuoſi, whoſe unſociable delight is to engroſs to them⯑ſelves thoſe performances, which, in juſ⯑tice to their authors, as well as the world, they ought freely to communicate^p.

[83] We may clearly diſcern the effects of ſuch a commerce as is here propoſed, with the works of the greateſt maſters. The immortal works of CORELLI are in the hands of every one; and accordingly we find, that from him many of our beſt mo⯑dern compoſers have generally deduced their elements of harmony. Yet there remains ſomething more to be done by our preſent profeſſors: they ought to be [84] as intimately converſant with thoſe other great maſters, who, ſince CORELLI's time, have added both taſte and invention; and, by uniting theſe, have ſtill come nearer to the perfection of the general-harmonic compoſition.

The numerous ſeminaries in Italy ſel⯑dom fail of producing a ſucceſſion of good maſters: from theſe we might ſelect ſuch pieces as would greatly contribute to the real ſolemnity of the cathedral ſer⯑vice. While others again, of a different kind, might be compiled and fitted for concertos, or other muſical purpoſes; ſo that there would never be wanting a va⯑riety of examples and ſubjects, for the practice of all ſtudents in harmony what⯑ever: and, by an aſſiduous application to a greater and more comprehenſive ſtyle than we have hitherto attempted, we ſhould ſoon be able to acquire ſo true a taſte, as would lay a ſure foundation for the forming our own maſters^q.

[85] If it ſhould be aſked, who are the pro⯑per perſons to begin a reform in our church-muſic? It may be anſwered, the organiſts of cathedrals, who are, or ought to be, our Maeſtri di Capella, and by whom, under the influence and protection of their deans, much might be done to the advancement of their choirs: nor would they find any difficulty in accom⯑pliſhing this uſeful deſign, as there are many precedents to direct them, both from Dr. ALDRIDGE and others, who have introduced into their ſervice the celebrated PALESTINA and CARISSIMI with great ſucceſs. And if this method, when ſo little good Muſic was to be had, hath been [86] found to advance the dignity and repu⯑tation of our cathedral ſervice; how much more may be expected at this time, from the number and variety of thoſe excellent compoſitions that have ſince ap⯑peared; and which may be eaſily procur⯑ed, and adapted to the purpoſes here men⯑tioned!

An improvement of this kind might be ſtill more eaſily ſet on foot, were there any hiſtory of the lives and works of the beſt compoſers; together with an account of their ſeveral ſchools, and the characteriſtic taſte, and manner of each:—a ſubject, though yet untouched, of ſuch extenſive uſe, that we may reaſona⯑bly hope it will be the employment of ſome future writer.

Painting has long had an advantage of this kind; but whether it has profited by ſuch advantage, may at preſent, per⯑haps, be diſputed. However, I think, if both theſe arts are not now in the ſtate of perfection which one might wiſh, it ought not to be attributed to the want of [87] genii, but to the want of proper en⯑couragement, from able and generous pa⯑trons, which would excite them to more laudable purſuits; many profeſſors in both the ſciences having alike employed their talents in the loweſt branches of their art, and turned their views rather to in⯑ſtant profit, than to future fame ^r.

[88] Thus, and thus alone, can we hope to reach any tolerable degree of excel⯑lence in the nobler kinds of muſical com⯑poſition. The works of the greateſt maſters are the only ſchools where we may ſee, and from whence we may draw, perfection. And here, that I may do juſtice to what I think the moſt diſtin⯑guiſhed merit, I ſhall mention, as exam⯑ples of true muſical expreſſion, two great authors, the one admirable in vocal, the other in inſtrumental Muſic.

The firſt of theſe is BENEDETTO MARCELLO, whoſe inimitable freedom, [89] depth, and comprehenſive ſtyle, will ever remain the higheſt example to all com⯑poſers for the church: for the ſervice of which, he publiſhed at Venice, near thirty years ago, the firſt fifty pſalms ſet to Muſic^s. Here he has far excelled all the Moderns, and given us the trueſt idea of that noble ſimplicity which probably was the grand characteriſtic of the ancient Muſic. In this extenſive and laborious undertaking, like the divine ſubject he works upon, he is generally either grand, beautiful, or pathetic; and ſo perfectly free from every thing that is low and common, that the judicious hearer is charmed with an endleſs variety of new [90] and pleaſing modulation; together with a deſign and expreſſion ſo finely adapted, that the ſenſe and harmony do every where coincide. In the laſt pſalm, which is the fifty-firſt in our verſion, he ſeems to have collected all the powers of his vaſt genius, that he might ſurpaſs the won⯑ders he had done before.

I do not mean to affirm, that in this extenſive work, every recitative, air, or chorus, is of equal excellence. A con⯑tinued elevation of this kind, no author ever came up to. Nay, if we conſider that variety which in all arts is neceſſary to keep alive attention, we may, perhaps, affirm with truth, that inequality makes a part of the character of excellence: that ſomething ought to be thrown into ſhades, in order to make the lights more ſtriking. And, in this reſpect, MAR⯑CELLO is truly excellent: if ever he ſeems to fall, it is only to riſe with more aſto⯑niſhing majeſty and greatneſs^t.

[91] To this illuſtrious example in vocal, I ſhall add another, the greateſt in inſtru⯑mental Muſic; I mean the admirable GE⯑MINIANI; whoſe elegance and ſpirit of compoſition ought to have been much more our pattern; and from whom the public taſte might have received the higheſt improvement, had we thought proper to lay hold of thoſe opportunities which his long reſidence in this kingdom has given us.

The public is greatly indebted to this gentleman, not only for his many excel⯑lent compoſitions, but for having as yet parted with none that are not extremely correct and fine. There is ſuch a gen⯑teelneſs and delicacy in the turn of his muſical phraſe (if I may ſo call it), and ſuch a natural connection in his expreſ⯑ſive and ſweet modulation throughout all his works, which are every where ſup⯑ported [92] with ſo perfect a harmony, that we can never too often hear, or too much admire them. There are no impertinent digreſſions, no tireſome, unneceſſary re⯑petitions; but, from the beginning to the cloſe of his movement, all is natural and pleaſing. This it is properly to diſcourſe in Muſic, when our attention is kept up from one paſſage to another, ſo as the ear and the mind may be equally delighted.

From an academy formed under ſuch a genius, what a ſupreme excellence of taſte might be expected^u!

SECT. I. ON THE EXPRESSIVE PERFORMANCE OF MUSIC IN GENERAL.

BUT as the nature and effects of Muſical Expreſſion do likewiſe relate to the performer, and the different inſtru⯑ments [94] which are employed in the practice of Muſic, ſo theſe in their turn may be alſo conſidered.

For, as Muſical Expreſſion in the com⯑poſer, is ſucceeding in the attempt to ex⯑preſs ſome particular paſſion^x; ſo in the performer, it is to do a compoſition juſtice, by playing it in a taſte and ſtile ſo exactly [95] correſponding with the intention of the compoſer, as to preſerve and illuſtrate all the beauties of his work.

Again, as the compoſer is culpable, who, for the ſake of ſome low and trifling imitation, deſerts the beauties of expreſ⯑ſion: ſo, that performer is ſtill more cul⯑pable, who is induſtrious to reduce a good inſtrument to the ſtate of a bad one, by endeavouring to make it ſubſervient to a ſtill more trifling mimickry.

Such are all imitations of flageolets, horns, bagpipes, &c. on the violin; a kind of low device, calculated merely to amaze, and which, even with the com⯑mon ear, cannot long prevail over the na⯑tural love of harmony^y.

[96] Even the uſe of double ſtops on this inſtrument may, in my opinion, be con⯑ſidered as one of the abuſes of it; ſince, in the hands of the greateſt maſters, they only deaden the tone, ſpoil the expreſ⯑ſion, and obſtruct the execution. In a [97] word, they baffle the performer's art, and bring down one good inſtrument to the ſtate of two indifferent ones.

But ſurely it ought chiefly to be the compoſer's care, not to give the performer any opportunities whatever of diſparaging his art: and the more he avoids all ſuch low buffoonry, the more will this falſe taſte be diſcouraged: for whatever may be alledged againſt the depravity of our taſte in the muſical ſcience, it certainly can be fixed no where ſo properly, as on the maſters themſelves; ſince, were they to perſiſt with any ſpirit or reſolution in the exerciſe of their genius in ſuch com⯑poſitions only as are worthy of them, they would undoubtedly improve the public ear, and acquire to themſelves a reputa⯑tion and character worth preſerving^z.

[98] Let every compoſer, whether for the church, the theatre, or chamber, thorough⯑ly conſider the nature and compaſs of the voices, or inſtruments, that are employed in his work; and, by that means, he will the more eaſily avoid the common error of not ſufficiently diſtinguiſhing what ſtile or manner is proper for execution, and what for expreſſion.

He ſhould alſo minutely obſerve the different qualities of the inſtruments them⯑ſelves: for, as vocal Muſic requires one kind of expreſſion, and inſtrumental an⯑other; ſo different inſtruments have alſo a different expreſſion peculiar to them.

Thus, the hautboy will beſt expreſs the cantabile, or ſinging ſtyle, and may be uſed in all movements whatever under [99] this denomination; eſpecially thoſe move⯑ments which tend to the gay and chearful.

In compoſitions for the German flute, is required the ſame method of proceeding by conjoint degrees, or ſuch other natural intervals, as, with the nature of its tone, will beſt expreſs the languiſhing, or me⯑lancholy ſtyle. With both theſe inſtru⯑ments, the running into extreme keys, the uſe of the ſtaccato, or diſtinct ſeparation of notes; and all irregular leaps, or broken and uneven intervals, muſt be avoided; for which reaſon alone, theſe inſtruments ought never to be employed in the repieno parts of concertos for violins, but in ſuch pieces only as are compoſed for them; and theſe, perhaps, would be moſt agree⯑ably introduced as principal inſtruments in ſome intervening movements in the concerto, which might not only give a pleaſing variety, but ſhew their different expreſſion to the greateſt advantage.

In continued compoſitions, particularly for the German flute, our compoſers have been not a little unſucceſsful; but whe⯑ther [100] this failure may be imputed to the deficiency of the inſtrument, or their at⯑tempting to exceed its natural expreſſion, may, perhaps, be worth the compoſer's while to conſider.

The baſſoon ſhould alſo have thoſe gra⯑dual movements which naturally glide in their diviſions, and have the eaſieſt tranſi⯑tions from one key to another; and may be admitted as a principal in the ſolo, or rinforzo in the chorus, but never in the latter without a ſufficient number of other baſſes to qualify and ſupport it^a.

The trumpet and French-horn, though equally limited in their ſcale, yet have pieces of very different ſtyles adapted to them. The one, perhaps, to animate and inſpire courage; the other to enliven and chear the ſpirits; yet are not both to be [101] alike diſcarded in the figurate deſcant, or that part of compoſition where diſcords are concerned. In this ſpecies of har⯑mony I have known the French-horn in⯑troduced with amazing ſucceſs; but it re⯑quires a very able compoſer to manage it properly with ſuch accompanyments. Either of theſe inſtruments, when fully accompanied, produce more wonderful effects than when heard alone, becauſe in all martial compoſitions, their airs and expreſſion are of ſo plain and unmixed a nature, that their harmony is more eaſily comprehended; and thence they ſtrike the common ear with a greater degree of pleaſure and admiration than any other in⯑ſtrument whatever.

The organ and harpſichord, though alike in ſo many reſpects, that the ſame per⯑former may equally ſhew his ſkill and execution on both; yet are their reſpec⯑tive compoſitions and manner of per⯑formance widely different: the former expreſſing the grand or ſolemn ſtile, the [102] latter, thoſe lively or trickling movements which thrill in the ear.

Now, where any of the above inſtru⯑ments over-rule in concert, whether in the chorus, or ſolo; or are appointed to play ſuch airs or movements as they can⯑not eaſily expreſs; we may then conclude, that the compoſer hath unfortunately ſet out upon a wrong principle, which capital error will deſtroy every good effect that might have been found in his work, had he duly conſidered the diſtinct limits and properties of each inſtrument.

In claſſing the different inſtruments in concert, we may conſider them as the various ſtops which complete a good or⯑gan: and as the ſkillful artiſt ſo contrives, that, when the full organ is heard, no mixtures, or furnitures, &c. ſhall predo⯑minate, but that the diapaſons, with their octaves ^b, may unite and fill the whole; ſo we may rank the violins with their baſſes and double-baſſes, as the diapaſons and [103] principals of the concert: for in fact they may be ſaid to contain the very ſtrength and ſpirit of all harmony; and have in them, not only the expreſſion of all the other inſtruments, but contain a prodigi⯑ous variety of many other noble proper⯑ties peculiar to themſelves, of which all the reſt are utterly deſtitute. It is their remarkable diſtinction, that no concert can be formed without them, as they unite and agree as well with every inſtru⯑ment, as with each other, and return every advantage they receive. And, as the fineſt inſtrumental Muſic may be con⯑ſidered as an imitation of the vocal; ſo do theſe inſtruments, with their expreſſive tone and the minuteſt changes they are capable of in the progreſſion of melody, ſhew their neareſt approaches to the per⯑fection of the human voice.

Let the lover of Muſic call to mind the delightful effects they afford, when joined with the organ to a chorus of good voices, particularly in churches where the expanſion is large and ample, to ſoften [104] every rough and grating ſound, and unite the variety of voices and other inſtru⯑ments, that complete this grand and ſo⯑lemn performance; he will, even in this ideal enjoyment of Muſic, with pleaſure own and prefer their harmonious expreſ⯑ſion.

In fine, it is in thoſe productions only which include the violin and its ſpecies, where an extenſive genius may rove at large through all the various kinds of muſical expreſſion; and may give the beſt performers, though not in capricious and extravagant flights, every deſirable opportunity of ſhewing their ſkill.

As a remarkable inſtance of the power of expreſſion in a performance on this in⯑ſtrument, I cannot omit the mention of three maſters, within my own knowledge. KNERLER, with great execution and a fine tone, but unſuſceptible of the powers of expreſſion, always diſappointed the ex⯑pecting ear: CARBONEL, with but a com⯑mon portion of thoſe qualities ſo requiſite to enforce an expreſſion, by a natural and [105] inſtant feeling of the tender ſtrokes in a fine compoſition, never failed to give all the pleaſure that could be expected from them. But if we would hear theſe vari⯑ous qualities united in their full perfec⯑tion, we muſt repair to the admired GIARDINI. The brilliancy and Fullneſs of his tone, the ſweetneſs, ſpirit, and va⯑riety of his expreſſion, his amazing rapi⯑dity of execution, and exuberance of fancy, joined with the moſt perfect eaſe and gracefulneſs in the performance, con⯑cur to ſet him at the head of his ^cpro⯑feſſion.

[106] Thus, the judicious performer, by this exertion of his fort or maſter-ſtyle, may poſſibly give a pleaſing tenderneſs or ſpi⯑rit, even to an indifferent compoſition; while, on the other hand, a neglect, or ignorance, of the uſe of this art, however expert in other reſpects the performer may be, will diſguiſe, if not intirely de⯑ſtroy, thoſe diſtinguiſhed beauties, which alone can raiſe the dignity and perfection of Muſic.

I dare ſay the reader will anticipate the ſimilar caſe I am about to mention in re⯑gard to reading; as it will naturally occur to him, on this head, how commanding the power of expreſſion may be found, from a different manner of reading the ſame author; eſpecially in poetry, where a juſt and ſpirited emphaſis is ſo highly eſſential to point out thoſe intereſting ſtrokes, which are more peculiarly de⯑ſigned to delight the imagination and af⯑fect the heart. But how infinitely ſhort of this deſign, is the beſt-wrote poem, whether we hear it rehearſed with wild [107] and vehement accents, or repeated in a cold and lifeleſs monotone! In either of theſe caſes, our diſguſt, or wearineſs of attention, will be found in proportion to the beauties of the author ſo abuſed. And juſt thus it fares with an injudicious performance of a fine muſical compoſi⯑tion.

The different ſpecies of Muſic, for the church, the theatre, or the chamber, are, or ſhould be, diſtinguiſhed by their peculiar expreſſion. It may eaſily be perceived, that it is not the time or meaſure, ſo much as manner and expreſſion, which ſtamps the real character of the piece. A well⯑wrought allegro, or any other quick movement for the church, cannot, with propriety, be adapted to theatrical pur⯑poſes; nor can the adagio of this latter kind, ſtrictly ſpeaking, be introduced in⯑to the former: I have known ſeveral ex⯑periments of this nature attempted, but never with ſucceſs. For, the ſame pieces which may juſtly enough be thought very ſolemn in the theatre, to an expe⯑rienced [108] ear, will be found too light and trivial, when they are performed in the church: and this, I may venture to aſ⯑ſert, would be the caſe, though we had never heard them but in ſome anthem, or other divine performance: and were, therefore, not ſubject to the prejudice, which their being heard in an opera might occaſion^d.

It is alſo by this efficacy of muſical expreſſion, that a good ear doth aſcertain the various terms which are generally made uſe of to direct the performer. For inſtance, the words andante, preſto, allegro, &c. are differently applied in the different kinds of Muſic above-mention⯑ed: for, the ſame terms which denote lively and gay, in the opera, or concert ſtyle, may be underſtood in the practice [109] of church-muſic, as, chearful and ſerene, or, if the reader pleaſes, leſs lively and gay: wherefore, the allegro, &c. in this kind of compoſition, ſhould always be performed ſomewhat ſlower than is uſual in concertos or operas.

By this obſervation we may learn, that theſe words do not always convey what they import in their ſtrict ſenſe, but are to be conſidered as relative terms; and if they cannot fully anſwer the compoſer's intention of communicating, to every per⯑former, the nature of each particular ſtyle; yet, are they more proper than any other for that purpoſe: however, the compoſer will always be ſubject to a ne⯑ceſſity of leaving great latitude to the per⯑former; who, nevertheleſs, may be great⯑ly aſſiſted therein, by his perception of the powers of expreſſion.

In vocal Muſic he can never fail; be⯑cauſe, if the different paſſions which the poet intends to raiſe, are juſtly diſtinguiſh⯑ed and expreſſed by the compoſer's art; the ſenſible performer will feel this happy [110] union of both the arts, and thence join his own to perfect the whole.

With regard to the inſtrumental kind; the ſtyle and air of the movement muſt chiefly determine the exact time and men⯑ner, in which it ought to be performed: and unleſs we ſtrictly attend to this di⯑ſtinction, the moſt excellent compoſitions may be greatly injured, eſpecially when the compoſer is not preſent, either to lead, or give the air of his piece.

I might conclude this head with an obſervation or two on the ſeveral graces or ornaments of expreſſion: but as theſe are already enumerated, and ſufficiently explained in the rules of GEMINIANI, I need only refer to that work. However, we may here remark, that, were theſe elements of playing in taſte, with their diſtinct characters and explanations, be⯑come the general ſtandard, as well for the performance of maſters, as for the in⯑ſtruction of their pupils; the former, I believe, would not only find them capable of heightening the very beſt compoſitions, [111] but the latter would alſo, with greater fa⯑cility, arrive at perfection. But, inſtead of this, the generality of our maſters, following each their own method, have preferred a more looſe and florid manner of gracing, by which the fineſt harmo⯑nies are too often deſtroyed; and in their explanation of theſe graces, by ſo many different marks, and crowds of little notes, impoſſible to be expreſſed, have rather perplexed the learner, who, find⯑ing the ſame art ſo variouſly taught, hath, therefore, been often diſcouraged in the progreſs of his ſtudy.

And, as we have diſtinguiſhed this maſter, as a pattern of excellence in his compoſitions, ſo we muſt allow him to have been equally excellent in his per⯑formance; for, in this reſpect, he was alſo peculiarly happy in his various expreſ⯑ſion, as well of the tender, the ſerene, the ſolemn, as of the joyous and rapid; and, with a ready and proper execution, al⯑ways entered into a true feeling of the ſpirit, or ſoftneſs, ſuitable to each of theſe [112] ſtyles: and, notwithſtanding the uncer⯑tain duration of this talent, a circum⯑ſtance common to every performer, he will ever live in thoſe rules above referred to, and in his Art of playing on the Violin; in which uſeful work he has communi⯑cated to the muſical world, as much of his ſuperior taſte and method of execu⯑tion, as could poſſibly be expected from ſuch an undertaking.

SECT. II. ON THE EXPRESSIVE PERFORMANCES OF MUSIC IN PARTS.

HAVING ſaid ſo much with regard to the expreſſive performance of Muſic in general, I ſhall now conclude with a few hints which may be of ſervice in the performance of full Muſic: eſpecially of ſuch concertos as have pretty near an equal ſhare of air and expreſſion in all their parts.

[113] The firſt material circumſtance which ought to be conſidered in the performance of this kind of compoſition, is, the number and quality of thoſe inſtruments that may produce the beſt effect.

And, 1ſt, I would propoſe, excluſive of the four principal parts which muſt be always complete, that the chorus of other inſtruments ſhould not exceed the num⯑ber following, viz. ſix primo, and four ſecondo repienos; four repieno baſſes, and two double baſſes, and a harpſichord. A leſſer number of inſtruments, near the ſame proportion, will alſo have a proper effect, and may anſwer the compoſer's intention; but more would probably de⯑ſtroy the juſt contraſt, which ſhould al⯑ways be kept up between the chorus and ſolo: for in this caſe the effect of two or three ſingle inſtruments would be loſt and over-powered by the ſucceſſion of too grand a chorus; and to double the primo, and ſecondo concertino, or violoncello in the ſolo, would be an impropriety in the con⯑duct of our muſical oeconomy, too ob⯑vious [114] to require any thing to be ſaid on that head. It may be objected, perhaps, that the number of baſſes, in the above calculation, would be found too powerful for the violins: but as the latter inſtru⯑ments are in their tone ſo clear, ſprightly, and piercing, and as they rather gain more force by this addition, they will always be heard: however, if it were poſſible, there ſhould never be wanting a double baſs; eſpecially in a performance of full con⯑certos, as they cannot be heard to any advantage without that NOBLE FOUNDA⯑TION of their harmony.

As to wind-inſtruments, theſe are all ſo different in their tone, and in their progreſſions through the various keys, from thoſe of the ſtringed kind, beſides the irremediable diſagreement of their riſing in their pitch, while the others are probably falling, that they ſhould nei⯑ther be continued too long in uſe, nor employed but in ſuch pieces as are ex⯑preſsly adapted to them; ſo that in the general work of concertos, for violins, [115] &c. they are almoſt always improper; unleſs we admit of the baſſoon, which, if performed by an expert hand, in a ſoft and ready tone, and only in thoſe paſſa⯑ges that are natural to it, may then be of ſingular uſe, and add fullneſs to the harmony.

Did every performer know the fort of his inſtrument, and where its beſt ex⯑preſſion lay, there to exert it moſt; I ſhould have but little pretence for my pre⯑ſent attempt in the enſuing directions.

2dly, In the four principal parts there ought to be four performers of almoſt equal maſtery; as well in regard to time as execution; for however eaſy it may ſeem to acquire the former, yet nothing more ſhews a maſter than a ſteady per⯑formance throughout the whole move⯑ment, and therefore chiefly neceſſary in the leading parts. But this rule is gene⯑rally neglected by placing one of the worſt hands to the tenor; which, though a part of little execution, yet requires ſo much meaning and expreſſion, that the [116] performer ſhould not only give a fine tone, (the peculiar quality of that inſtrument) but by ſwelling and ſinging of the notes, and entering into the ſpirit of the com⯑poſer, know, without deſtroying the air, where to fill the harmony; and, by boldly pointing the ſubject, keep it up with the greateſt energy^e.

3dly, The ſame rule will ſerve for all the other inſtruments except the harpſi⯑chord; and as this is only to be uſed in the chorus, the performer will have little elſe to regard but the ſtriking juſt chords, keeping the time, and being careful that no jangling ſound or ſcattering of the [117] notes be continued after the pauſe or ca⯑dence. During this interval of reſt, he ſhould alſo attend, with the utmoſt exact⯑neſs, the leading off again the remaining part of the movement, that when all the parts are thus inſtantly ſtruck, his own may be found to pervade and fill the whole: and if there are any reſts ſuc⯑ceeding the pauſe, his attention to the leading inſtrument will direct him when theſe are to commence. The ſame care is neceſſary at the return of each double ſtrain, when there are no intermediate notes to introduce the repeat. In fine, a profound ſilence muſt be always obſerv⯑ed, wherever the compoſer has intended a general reſpite, or pauſe in his work. I am the more particular in giving this caution to performers on the harpſichord, as they are the moſt liable to tranſgreſs in this way; becauſe their inſtrument, lying ſo commodious to their fingers, is ever tempting them to run like wild-fire over the keys, and thus perpetually interrupt the performance. As compoſitions of [118] this nature are not calculated for the ſake of any one inſtrument, but to give a grand effect by uniting many, each performer ought therefore to conſider his particular province, and ſo far only to exert himſelf as may be conſiſtent with the harmony and expreſſion in his part. Nor let any lover of Muſic be concerned if there is but little for him to execute, ſince he will thence have ſome leiſure for the pleaſure of hearing: for this reaſon, the under parts in good compoſitions are more eli⯑gible to the performer, who would rather enjoy the whole than be diſtinguiſhed alone.

The uſe of the Acciaccatura ^f, or ſweeping of the chords, and the dropping or ſprinkling notes, are indeed ſome of the peculiar beauties of this inſtrument. But theſe graceful touches are only re⯑ſerved for a maſterly application in the [119] accompanyment of a fine voice, or ſin⯑gle inſtrument; and therefore, beſides the difficulty of acquiring a competent ſkill in them, they are not required in the per⯑formance of full Muſic.

Under this article I ſhall beg leave to offer an obſervation on the harpſi⯑chord concerto; a ſpecies of compoſition but of late invention, and which, if pro⯑perly ſtudied, will admit of conſiderable improvements. Hitherto we ſeem to have miſtaken the property of this inſtrument, by not conſidering what it can, or cannot expreſs. Hence it is, perhaps, that our compoſers have run all their concertos into little elſe than tedious diviſions; and the ſubject or ground-work of theſe, being introduced and repeated by a chorus of violins, produce always a bad effect: whereas the violin parts ſhould be but few, and contrived rather as accompanyments than ſymphonies; by which means they may aſſiſt greatly in ſtriking out ſome kind of expreſſion, [120] wherein the harpſichord^g is remarkably deficient^h.

The ſame method, perhaps, may be equally proper in concertos for the organ: which being frequently employed in other compoſitions, and at preſent ſo generally approved, it may not be amiſs to conſider it farther. For however capable this in⯑ſtrument may be found to fill or ſoften all the reſt, it will nevertheleſs over-power and deſtroy them, if the performer is not extremely cautious and tender in the uſe of it. I would therefore propoſe that the accompanyments in the thorough-baſs ſhould never be ſtruck in chords with the right-hand, as upon the harpſichord, but [121] in all the full parts the leading ſubject ſhould be ſingly touched, and the per⯑former proceed through the reſt of the movement with the left-hand only. For this reaſon, no perſon whatever ſhould attempt this inſtrument in concertos not expreſsly made for it, but from the ſcore; and then, if he has judgement and diſcretion ſufficient, he may enforce an expreſſion, and aſſiſt every part through⯑out the whole chorus. Yet I cannot diſmiſs this article without once again obſerving, that the difficulties of render⯑ing the organ of that uſe in full concert which many expect from it, are ſo various and intricate, that we can never be too careful of the performer's abilities; who, if thoroughly ſkillful, will ſo manage his inſtrument, that it may always be heard, but ſeldom diſtinguiſhed.

4thly, As in all concertos, overtures, &c. where the repieno parts are more im⯑mediately neceſſary, the compoſer ought to purſue ſome deſign in filling each chorus, and relieving them with paſſages [122] either proper to be heard alone, or ſo contrived as to give a good effect to the repeated chorus; ſo in performing theſe different paſſages, a different manner muſt be obſerved. Thus, when the ſolo is contrived for the ſake of ſome peculiar expreſſion, it ſhould then be performed in a manner ſuitable to the genius or character of the piece; but always plain, or however with ſuch graces only as may heighten the expreſſion without varying the time; and which, therefore, require other qualities beſides an execution to do them juſtice: for this elegance of taſte, in the performance of the ſolo, conſiſts not in thoſe agile motions, or ſhiftings of the hand, which ſtrike with ſurprize the common ear, but in the tender and delicate touches, which to ſuch indeed are leaſt perceptible, but to a fine ear productive of the higheſt delight. Let not the performer then by an ill-judged execution miſapply this opportunity of ſhewing his ſkill in theſe remarkable places: for though it is not the advant⯑age [123] of inſtrumental compoſitions to be heightened in their expreſſion by the help of words, yet there is generally, or ought to be, ſome idea of ſenſe or paſſion, beſides that of mere ſound, conveyed to the hearerⁱ: on that account he ſhould avoid all extravagant decorations, ſince every attempt of this kind muſt utterly deſtroy whatever paſſion the compoſer may have deſigned to expreſs. And laſt of all let him conſider, that a more than uſual attention is expected to his princi⯑pal part, when all the reſt yield it this preference, of being diſtinguiſhed and heard alone^k.

[124] 5thly, In the chorus, whether full in all the parts, or leading by fugues; the violini di concertino ^l ſhould be pointed with ſpirit to each repieno; theſe alſo ſhould be inſtantly ſtruck, without ſuffer⯑ing the firſt note to ſlip, by which means they always loſe their deſigned effect: an omiſſion which many careleſs per⯑formers are guilty of, either through miſ⯑counting of reſts, or depending upon others; and thus render the whole per⯑formance ragged and unmeaning.

6thly, When concertos are perform⯑ed with three or four inſtruments only, it may not be amiſs to play the ſolo parts mezzo piano; and to know more accu⯑rately [125] where to find them, the firſt and laſt note of every chorus ſhould be diſ⯑tinguiſhed thus ( [...]) and to prevent all miſtakes of pointing the forte at a wrong place, that alſo ought to have the ſame mark: by this means the performer will be directed to give the firſt note of every chorus and forte its proper emphaſis, and not ſuffer the latter to hand upon the ear, which is extremely diſagreeable.

Above all, to heighten this variety in the performance, it is eſſential to mark the change of ſtiles that may often be found in the ſame movement, and chiefly the ſoſtenute and ſtaccato, for in theſe are contained the greateſt powers of expreſ⯑ſion on the violin.

Sounds continued, or ſucceeding each other without interruption, muſt be gently ſwelled and decreaſed, and this without drawling or languor. All cut ſounds ſhould be moderately ſtruck, yet clear and diſtinct, that every ſhrill and ſud⯑den [126] jerk with the bow may be entirely avoided.

Though few performers can feel the nice diſtinctions that lie between the beauties and errors in each of theſe ſtiles; yet many are ſenſible of their very oppo⯑ſite effects: and this circumſtance alone will greatly aſſiſt thoſe who would play either with tenderneſs or ſpirit.

7thly, As diſcords in Muſic are like ſhades in painting, ſo is the piano like the fainter parts or figures in a picture; both which do greatly aſſiſt in conſtituting and ſupporting an agreeable variety. But, as in the caſe of Muſic ſo much depends upon the taſte and accuracy of the per⯑former, it is particularly neceſſary, that a ſtrict regard be had to the piano and forte; for theſe, in the hands of a ſkillful compoſer, are generally ſo diſpoſed as to afford a moſt pleaſing relief; and, when juſtly executed, give great beauty and ſpirit to a compoſition. Yet how often do they paſs unobſerved, or, if at all expreſ⯑ſed, in ſo careleſs and negligent a manner, [127] as to produce little, if any, ſenſible dif⯑ference to the hearer! It is a common practice with thoſe luke-warm performers, who imagine that diminiſhing the num⯑ber of inſtruments will anſwer the ſame end as ſoftening the whole, to quit their part when they ſhould rather be all at⯑tention how to manage it with the utmoſt delicacy; tranſporting, as it were, like the ſwell-organ, the leſſening ſounds to a vaſt diſtance, and thence returning with redoubled ſtrength and fullneſs to the forte: and as this delightful effect can only be found from a performance of many inſtruments together, we ought never to omit ſuch opportunities of car⯑rying this noble contraſt to its higheſt perfection.

8thly, When the inner parts are in⯑tended as accompanyments only, great care ſhould be had to touch them in ſuch a manner, that they may never predomi⯑nate, but be always ſubſervient to the principal performer, who alſo ſhould ob⯑ſerve the ſame method, whenever his part [128] becomes an accompanyment; which ge⯑nerally happens in well-wrought fugues and other full pieces, where the ſubject and air are almoſt equally diſtributed. When the attention of every performer is thus employed by liſtening to the other parts, without which he cannot do juſtice to his own, it is then we may expect to hear the proper effect of the whole.

9thly, In every part throughout the full chorus, all manner of graces, or di⯑minution of intervals, or tranſpoſition of eight notes higher, muſt be avoided; which ſome indiſcreet performers are but too apt to make uſe of, merely from a deſire of being diſtinguiſhed, and that the audience may admire their execution. But theſe gentlemen ought to conſider, that by ſuch liberties they do not only diſ⯑appoint the expecting ear, of a juſt per⯑formance of ſome favourite part, but often introduce and occaſion diſallowances in the harmony. From the ſame ruling paſſion we ſometimes hear performers, the moment a piece is ended, run over their [129] inſtrument, forgetting that order, like ſilence under arms in the military diſci⯑pline, ſhould alſo be obſerved in the diſ⯑cipline of Muſic.

Laſtly, To point out in all the parts of full Muſic, their various ſubjects or fugues, I have ventured to introduce a new muſical character, namely, this moſtra ( [...]) or index: but as the particular uſe I would apply it to, may poſſibly be thought by ſome, a groundleſs innovation, it will therefore be neceſſary to ſay ſome⯑thing in its defence and explanation^m.

In all compoſitions for inſtruments in parts, which are publiſhed in ſeparate books, and ſeldom peruſed in ſcore, moſt performers are frequently at a loſs, to know the compoſer's deſign: hence pro⯑ceed many diſcordant ricercate ⁿ, where [130] only the full unmixed harmony ſhould be heard. Another conſequence has been, that, for want of ſome ſuch character as the moſtra above-mentioned, the very beſt contrivances in a good compoſition have often paſſed undiſtinguiſhed and neglected. To remedy this defect, it ſeems neceſſary to point out in each part every leading and reſponſive fugue: for which purpoſe ſome particular mark ſhould be placed over the firſt note of every accidental ſubject as well as princi⯑pal; the former being rather more neceſ⯑ſary to be thus diſtinguiſhed, as every per⯑ſon capable of performing in concert muſt know the principal ſubject wherever it occurs, and therefore will of courſe give that its proper expreſſion.

But the accidental ſubjects are, on ac⯑count of their variety, much more difficult to be aſcertained: ſometimes indeed they are a part or accompanyment of the principal, and then may be ſtyled a ſe⯑cond or third ſubject, as they are gene⯑rally repeated, or at leaſt ſo retouched in [131] the progreſs of the fugue as to render them eaſily known. But yet there are oftentimes other ſubjects very different from the principal, and which being ſel⯑dom or never repeated, are therefore ſtill more neceſſary to be marked; for having always ſome peculiar relation to the other parts, it is abſolutely neceſſary that they ſhould be juſtly expreſſed; and this can only be done by a ſimple, plain, yet ener⯑getic execution: for wherever a ſubject is propoſed, it can never with propriety admit of any variation. Expreſſion alone being ſufficient to give us every thing that can be deſired from harmony.

Thus, by a due obſervance of ſome ſuch character as the moſtra, the per⯑former will be greatly aſſiſted to compre⯑hend all the harmony and contrivances of the compoſer, and obtain an advantage and pleaſure almoſt equal to that of play⯑ing from the ſcore^o.

[132] By what has been ſaid, it appears, that this mark will be of ſimilar uſe in Muſic, [133] to that of capitals, italicks, and other or⯑thographical illuſtrations in writing; and therefore, perhaps, may make the chance which a muſical author has for ſucceſs, more nearly equal to that of a literary one; for it is certain that the former at preſent lies under ſo many additional diſ⯑advantages, that whatever ſerves to leſſen or remove any of them, ſhould be thought an invention of no trivial utility.

For inſtance, how often does the fate of a concerto depend on the random execution of a ſett of performers who have never previouſly conſidered the work, examined the connection of its parts, or ſtudied the intention of the whole?

Was a dramatic author in ſuch a ſitua⯑tion, as that the ſucceſs of his play de⯑pended on a ſingle recital, and that too by perſons thus unprepared; I fancy he would ſcarce chuſe to run the riſk, though he had even Mr. GARRICK for one of his rehearſers. Yet what the poet never did, nor ever will venture, the [134] harmoniſt is of neceſſity compelled to, and that alſo frequently when he has not yet acquired a character to prejudice the audience in his favour, or is in any ſitua⯑tion to prevent their firſt cenſure from being determinate and final.