Chapter XV: A Change (4)

"Some people, who allow that the music of some of our churches
is thoroughly profane, still justify its use on the plea that
it allures strangers, who may be favorably impressed with other
and more religious portions of the service. But this is a poor
justification of practices which annoy the real congregation, and
hinder devotion. No doubt a priest should seek to draw strangers
to his church, but all means are not equally legitimate toward
attaining this laudable end. Besides, the writer though entirely
unable to form any judgment which he could commend to the belief
of others, much doubts whether any priest could trace more than
a few conversions, if any at all, not to his church music, which
may partly be very ecclesiastical, but to his florid or orchestral
music, as to their origin."

We need to add little to this. The impressions left upon the mind after being subjected to any one of such performances is well known to all who have suffered. What religious feelings might one reasonably expect to have pervaded (may we not say the audience?) or what devotion could possibly be excited in the hearts of any unfortunate worshippers present on the occasion of which the following is a report:

"Haydn's Mass No. 16 was the great selection. The _Kyrie_ was
coldly given, the alto and bass, in the _soli_ parts, being
hardly strung up to tune. In the _Gloria_, however, both chorus
and soloists warmed to their work, and several of the finest
choral passages were given with great power and precision. The
_Credo_ was not taken up firmly, but every praise is due to the
manner in which the choir acquitted themselves at the finish,
and in the exquisite _Et Incarnatus_ and succeeding quartette
the four principal voices blended beautifully together, and the
alto (Miss ----) told well in the delivery of the leading and
interwoven subject, the _Sub Pontio_. The most critical would have
been satisfied with the evenness with which the principal voices
were balanced in this and the subsequent _soli_ passages. The
_Sanctus_ and _Hosanna_ were very fairly given, the _Benedictus_
being perhaps the most telling effort of all. The opening of the
_Agnus_ was not delivered sufficiently _staccato_, as the chorus
did not hang well together. The _Dona Nobis_ made up for all, and
throughout the principals acquitted themselves in unexceptionable
style, being well supported at the finish by the chorus."

We are aware that some, while agreeing with us, as they cannot help but do, that "masses" in figured music, and "figured vespers," are in the style of their composition essentially profane, yet choose them, and cause them to be performed, on the plea that the sacredness of the place and the occasion of the divine office is a sufficient corrective of their innate profanity, or that, being "magnificent," "sublime," "classic," etc., such music may justly be employed to adorn the grand functions of religion, and that the theatre ought not to boast of _better_ music than the house of God; that--as one such admirer of classic music said to us--we ought to "spoil the Egyptians;" or again, that Protestants are attracted to churches where such music is given, and may be led by the charm of the music to inquire into the truths of our religion; and finally, that there is nothing else to take its place; the antiquated Gregorian chant being wholly unfit for the cultivated musical ears of the nineteenth century, and to banish this music from Catholic churches would be to do an irreparable injury to high art. But all these pleas fail absolutely in producing any influence upon our judgment, the words of Dom Gueranger sounding so loudly in our ears as they do, and our own experience to the contrary. In point of fact, the sacredness of the place where this kind of music is sung is no corrective of the unworthy nature of the music itself. Doubtless the cantatrice is denied the clapping of hands and the _encore_ which her splendid singing calls for, and the _primo basso_ retires from the front of the organ-gallery without a bow to his fashionable auditory--nevertheless interiorly disgusted, we warrant, by the lack of some visible appreciation of one of his best efforts--and a well-behaved congregation will quietly resume their attitude of prayer at the close of some crashing _finale_; but are these sufficient evidences of the very opposite impression being produced upon the worshippers to that which the music from its character, aside from the similar manner of its rendering, is not only calculated but is expected to produce? "I hold it for certain," said good old Saint Alphonsus, "that vanity and the devil usually get more by it than God."

What those who defend the use of figured music in our solemn offices must show is, that it not only edifies the faithful, but that it edifies equally with, or more than, the authorized chant. That it is the source of no little disedification; that it distracts the soul from the great object upon which all its powers ought to be concentrated; that it is always more or less an imperfect performance, and, in most cases, a mere makeshift; and that where the organist and singers are in power the sacred ministers play but a subordinate part in a scene in which, as it has been well said, the music from the choir gallery is the magnet which attracts the gold and silver, there cannot be the shadow of a doubt.

But this is not all. Is figured music in conformity as to its style with the spirit of the other portions of the divine office? Will its most strenuous adherents claim for it the title of being a fair and true expression of the Church's prayer? Does it harmonize with those other parts of the office performed in the sanctuary? Here we can speak feelingly. How often have we not been tempted to smile at our own voice intoning the _per omnia sæcula sæculorum_, as the echoes of that galloping _finale_ of an interminable "offertory piece" or Benedictus were yet resounding in the aisles of the church! What feelings of vexation have not arisen in our breast as the response came back to our ears in slovenly haste, as if our inharmonious cadence had too quickly disturbed the well-merited repose of our choir after, we must confess, their too successful effort to captivate the attention of the congregation, and put the priest in the very pillory of singularity and discord! Why must our mind at such times suffer the painful distraction of remembering the well-known sarcastic remark, that "the Rev. Mr. ---- then put up a supplication which was one of the most eloquent prayers ever offered to a Boston audience!"

The second plea, that these classic harmonies, so rich, so melodious, so sublime, etc., etc., should not be denied to the greater glory of God, is of equally small weight, since there are many other things in nature and art extremely beautiful in themselves, truly classic in their conception and execution, which, it must be confessed, would hardly bear transporting to the house of prayer, and which it would take the heroic virtue of a saint to refer to the greater glory of God if exhibited in any place. We do not object to the offering of these harmonies to God, but the question is, Do these harmonies, by their religious tone and devout style, offer themselves to God? Does the Church judge them to be suitable for her divine offices? Let these questions be answered in the affirmative, and our own personal judgment and sentiments shall go to the wall.

The plea that the music as now commonly heard in our churches allures Protestants, and thus brings them within sight and hearing of Catholic truth, has been already well answered in our quotation from Mr. Nary. For ourselves, judging from the behavior of the mass of these visitors, we are forced to the conclusion that they frequent our churches where fine music is given because they can get it at a cheaper rate than they would have to pay for it elsewhere.

That there is nothing else to take its place, and that the antiquated Gregorian chant is unfit for our ears of modern cultivation, is simply the plea of ignorance. The established chant of the Church not only _can_ take its place, as we shall attempt to show further on, but as a fact it has never ceded its right to any other style of music; and those who know any thing of the Gregorian chant scientifically, know that it is our modern ears that are at fault, perverted as they have been in their sense and appreciation of true religious melody by the sensuous and effeminate spirit which pervades all modern art.

It is strongly urged that the reintroduction of the Gregorian chant in our churches, now wholly committed to the use of modern music, is impossible, for the hired singers will have nothing to do with it. To which we answer that, as the execution of the Gregorian chant necessarily excludes female vocalists from the choir in accordance with the sacred canons, the _prima donna_ will undoubtedly have to look elsewhere for an engagement, and very likely the _tenore_ and _basso_ who sing in the Mass on Sunday in our church, and perform in the _opera buffa_ all the rest of the week, may refuse to employ their highly cultivated voices in singing music that affords them so little opportunity of exhibiting their artistic powers; but, we may ask, are these the only favored beings whom God has endowed with good voices and the ability to use them? We propose to enter more fully into this question of difficulty, and think we shall be able to show that in this as well as in other matters, "where there's the will, there's a way."

In the interests of art, it is asked, ought not the composition, and by consequence the reproduction of sacred music be encouraged? Will not its banishment from our churches be a species of vandalism in art greatly to be deplored? Let us look at this fairly. What is this so-called "sacred" music? Is it more or less than the adaptation of the words of prayer uttered by the church to concerted harmony composed as an artistic expression of the sentiment conveyed by the sacred words? Surely nothing more. But what is concerted harmony, as a rule, "sacred" or "consecrated" to? To the words of the offices of the church? By no means. There is but one kind of music consecrated to that--the Gregorian chant. And, with our hands upon our hearts, can we say that modern music has received such an aid in its development through the composition and execution of Masses, Magnificats, Offertories, Tantum Ergos, and the like, that its present state of advancement is as much indebted to them as is popularly supposed, or that their withdrawal from the service of the Church would prove any very serious detriment to it? As pieces of musical art, the operas and oratorios of composers are far superior to the masses they have written, and we who may choose would much rather listen to them. We must not be understood to decry the composition of so-called sacred music, or the singing of it. On the contrary, we would do all in our power to encourage it; but we object to its usurping the place of music better fitted for the divine offices of the Church, and vastly surpassing it for such use in every particular. There is plenty of time, outside of the hour or two in which we are present at Mass or Vespers, to hear all the sacred music we desire or can bear. All we ask is, let the Church pray her own prayers and sing her own divine song without hinderance, or the intrusion of harmonies as ill-suited to her voice as they are powerless to express the emotions of her more than human soul.

This leads us to the utterance of a grave complaint against modern sacred music, namely, the absurd settings of words by which the divine offices are not only prolonged to a tedious extent, but the Holy Church is made to stammer, repeat, hesitate in her speech, and fall at last into an inextricable confusion of tongues. Did our pious congregation below stairs know what their singers are singing up aloft, they would not unfrequently be reminded of certain warnings against "vain repetitions." The Masses of composers who wrote in the seventeenth and eighteenth century are not only open to the charge of being replete with these vain repetitions, but are full of the most ridiculous blunders.

We subjoin a specimen. The words given are those sung by the leading soprano; the lines (--) show where the text is broken up by instrumental interludes:

"Glory to God in the highest----in the highest----to
God glory----to God glory----to God glory, glory to
God in the highest, to God in the highest, to God in
the highest, to God in the highest----to God in the
highest----and on earth peace----peace----peace to men,
and on earth peace----peace----peace to men----of good,
good----will----will----of good, good will, of good, good, good
will----of good, good will, of good, good, good will----of good
will----of good will----of good will----We praise, we bless----we
adore----we glorify----we give thanks to thee for thy great
glory, for thy great glory, for thy great glory, for thy great
glory----thy glory----thy glory----O Lord God, God, heavenly King,
God the Father Almighty----O God the Son----only begotten----Jesus
Christ; O Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father----Son of
the Father----Son of the Father----Son of the Father----O Lord
God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father----O Lord God, Lamb of God,
Son of the Father, Son, Son of the Father----who takest, who
takest away the sins of the world, have mercy, have mercy, have
mercy on us----who takest away, who takest away the sins of the
world, receive our prayer, our prayer, our prayer, our prayer,
our prayer----who sittest, who sittest at the right hand of the
Father, have mercy, have mercy on us----have mercy, have mercy
on us----For thou only art holy, thou only art the Lord----only
art the highest, Jesus Christ----For thou only art holy----thou
only, thou only art the highest----thou only, thou only art the
highest, Jesus Christ----Jesus Christ----For thou only----thou
only art holy, thou only art highest----Jesus Christ, Jesus
Christ----For thou only, thou only art highest, Jesus Christ,
Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ----For thou only art holy, thou only
art the Lord----thou only art highest, Jesus Christ----For thou
only art holy, thou only, only art holy, thou only, only, art the
Lord.----For thou only art holy----thou only art the Lord----thou
only art holy, thou only art the Lord, only, art highest. For thou
only, thou only art holy----thou art the Lord----only art highest,
thou only art highest, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ----For thou
only----thou only art highest----Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ----For
thou only, thou only art highest----Jesus Christ----Jesus, Jesus
Christ----Jesus, Jesus Christ----Jesus----Christ----With the Holy
Ghost----in the glory of God the Father. Amen, amen. With the
Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the Father. Amen, amen----Amen,
amen----With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the Father, Amen,
in the glory of God the Father----Amen----Amen----Amen----Amen,
amen, amen, amen.----With the Holy Ghost----in the glory of God
the Father. Amen. With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the
Father, Amen, amen, amen. With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God
the Father, Amen, amen, amen, amen.----With the Holy Ghost----With
the Holy Ghost, with the Holy Ghost, with the Holy Ghost, in the
glory of God the Father, of God the Father, Amen, amen, amen,
amen, amen, amen----With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the
Father, Amen, amen, amen----in the glory of God the Father, Amen,
amen----of God the Father, Amen; in the glory of God the Father,
Amen; in the glory of God the Father, Amen----of God the Father,
Amen. With the Holy Ghost, in the glory of God the Father, Amen,
amen----of God the Father, Amen----of God the Father, Amen, amen,
amen, amen, amen."

And this from Doctor Mozart's renowned Mass No. 12, which we have heard so often, and enjoyed so much! But he is not alone. We quote from an able paper from the _Dublin Review_ on "Church Music and Church Choirs:"

"Thus we have a 'Credo' beginning with the four phrases, _Credo in
unum Deum_--_Genitum non factum_--_Qui propter nos_--and _Et ex
Patre natum_--all sung simultaneously by the four voices. Again,
we have a 'Gloria' beginning with the four phrases, _Gratias
agimus_ (for the soprano)--_Domine Fili_ (alto)--_Domine Deus_
(tenor)--_Et in terra pax_ (bass)--the whole being dispatched in
two short pages of music!

"As for instances of garblings by the omission of words and
clauses in much of the popular mass music, they are too numerous
to be mentioned.

"One of the most grotesquely absurd settings, perhaps, is that
of the 'Alma Redemptoris' of Webbe. The words are divided into
three parts, the first ending with 'cadenti,' the second with
'genitorem,' the same music being used for each, _and a repeat
and musical interlude coming between_. The consequence is that the
adjective '_cadenti_' is entirely cut off from its substantive
'_populo_;' and the whole, as sung, is of course sheer nonsense.
The reason is plain. Webbe found an air which, by a threefold
repetition, could be applied to the words of the antiphon, and
for this every thing, even to the grammar of the piece, was
sacrificed. No doubt this is the history of many of the absurd
adaptations we meet with.

"Nothing can go beyond the examples we have quoted, except,
perhaps, the instance of a composer of the 'light Italian school,'
who by way of producing an original and striking musical effect
in the 'Credo,' made one voice sing 'Genitum non factum,' and
another respond 'Factum non genitum!' It will be said that these
are extreme cases, and that many of the pieces are not likely to
be used in our churches. Be it so; still they show what it was
the fashion of certain composers to provide for the use of the
Church, and what is apt to come of the theory that it does not
matter what is sung by the choir, provided the people do not hear
it. But whether heard or not, the rules of the Church (and we see
how strict they are on these points) remain the same. Besides, do
we sing merely to satisfy the ears of an audience? Rather, is not
this the true principle--_In conspectu Angelorum psallam tibi,
Domine_?"

To the ignorance, alas! so general, of what the Church is actually saying in her holy offices, and what the choir is singing in her name, as well as of what they are omitting to sing as in duty bound, may be attributed in great measure the apparent indifference with which the people of our congregations listen to any musical production from the choir, be it in harmony with the season or the festival, as the case may be, or not, provided only that the voices are in harmony with each other. Did they know better, they would say with Pope Benedict XIV., who, it seems, had some of our own abuses to contend with and reform in Rome itself, as other popes have had since his time. Speaking of St. Augustine, who used to be moved to tears by the singing (be it well understood, not of such music as we possess) in the churches, he says that "the music moved him indeed, but still more so the words he heard. But he would weep now also for grief; for, although he heard the singing, he could not distinguish the words."

Let us hear something more of the opinions of the same holy pope about figured "sacred music." "The Gregorian chant is that song which excites the minds of the faithful to piety and devotion; it is that music, therefore, which, if sung in our churches with care and decorum, is most willingly heard by devout persons, and is justly preferred to that which is called figured or harmonized music. The titillation of figured music is held very cheaply by men of religious mind in comparison with the sweetness of the Church chant, and hence it is that the people flock to the churches of the monks, who, taking piety for their guide in singing the praises of God, after the counsel of the prince of psalmists, skilfully sing to their Lord as Lord, and serve God as God with the utmost reverence."

Did we add no more, we think we have said enough to show that the employment of figured music for the divine offices is an abuse. It does not answer its purpose, and its permission is nothing better than a winking at our weakness, (the wisdom of which, considering all things, we by no means presume to condemn for the past,) while the prevailing sensuousness and libertinism of the times has debased and emasculated our taste in true religious art.

But it is a comfort to know that such music has never received from the supreme pastors and rulers of the church any thing more than a reluctant permission, that the concessions they have made in its favor have always been exacted by the force of circumstances, and that they have constantly raised their voice in opposition to it as an abuse, and urged in the strongest terms of command and persuasion its abolition, and a return to the authorized chant, the universal song of the Church, ever ancient and ever new.

Dilettanti talk, with an air of superior knowledge, of the Gregorian chant as if it were something obsolete, the uncouth production of a barbarous and unartistic age. We think there are not a few other fashions and modes of religious expression besides her chant, that the Church has persistently adhered to, which modern ideas might with equal justice denounce as obsolete and of unartistic origin. As has been well remarked,

"This conservatism, if we may so call it, of the Church, is not
confined to plain chant. The same may be said of the language and
the style of her offices, the dresses of her clergy and religious
orders, and many of her rites, ceremonies, and customs. The chant
is, therefore, no stranger than any part of the Church system; and
that system being what it is, the antique character of the music
seems in every way suitable."

To be sure. What would we think of an archbishop to-day standing before the altar dressed in a frock-coat with a stove-pipe hat on his head, and a pair of patent leather boots on his feet, giving his solemn benediction _en roulade_?

What we have said in regard to the wishes and commands of the Church, as expressed by the papal bulls and decrees of councils in regard to this matter, we propose to prove by referring the reader to several of these authorities.

Alexander VII., in his Constitution 36, _Piæ sollicitudinis_, 23d April, 1657, excludes all singing of pieces not contained in the liturgy or approved by the Congregation of Rites, and all profane styles of music. (Bullar. t. 6.)

The Congregation of the Apostolical Visitation, July 30th, 1665, enforced and explained more fully the constitution of Alexander VII. The character of the music at Mass and Office is to be ecclesiastical, grave, and devotional. Only what is prescribed for the day or season is to be sung. It prohibits prolonged solos. It prescribes that the words are to be sung as they were written, without any inversion, addition, or other change.

The popes, Innocent XI., 1678, and Innocent XII., 1692, renewed and enforced similar rules, imposing, as their predecessors had done, heavy penalties on choir-masters for disobedience. (V. Bullar. t. 7.)

In the Council of Rome, 1725, Benedict XIII. insists upon the ecclesiastical character of the music to be used in church. (Tit. 15, cap. 6.)

Benedict XIV., in a circular letter, enters at large into the subject of church music, and, while he does not wholly condemn the use of figured music, yet deplores the bad taste of those who employ it, as well as the great neglect of religion which he attributes to the careless performance of the divine offices of the church. As we have seen already, he distinctly prefers the Gregorian chant, and refers in this letter to the decree of the Council of Trent in regard to it.

Clement XIII., Sept. 17th, 1760, issued an edict against the abuse of prolonging the music in church "to the detriment of devotion and of the approved rites, and in violation of the canons and rubrics."

The cardinal vicar of Gregory XVI., 1842, inveighs against tiresome repetition and arbitrary inversion of words.

Pius IX., June 28th, 1853, showed his great wish for the thoroughly religious character of church music; for in his letters establishing the Seminario Pio, in connection with the Roman Seminary, he ordered that the students should be taught the Gregorian chant, and no other. "Cantus Gregorianus, omni alio rejecto, tradetur." (Tit. 5, de studior. ratione.)

The latest instruction issued by the cardinal vicar, Nov. 18th, 1856, denounces the scandals caused by the introduction of profane theatrical music in the churches, and the interminable length of their execution, and, "by express command of his holiness," lays down a set of rules which are to be observed in future. At the same time the cardinal issued a series of instructions to composers, from which it is evident very little encouragement is given them to write for the Church, and they are so restricted that we very much doubt if they care to put their Pegasus in such a cumbrous harness as the good cardinal prescribes.

The late Plenary Council of Baltimore confirms a decree made in the former one, which reads as follows:

"That all may be done according to prescribed order, and that the
solemn rites of the Church be preserved in their integrity, we
admonish pastors of churches to earnestly labor in removing those
abuses which, in our country, have crept into the church chant.
Let them, therefore, provide that the music be subservient to the
holy Sacrifice of the Mass and other offices, and not the divine
offices to the music. Let them also bear in mind that, according
to the ritual of the Church, it is not lawful to sing hymns in the
vernacular language at High Mass nor at solemn Vespers."[85]

The wishes of the fathers of the Council in regard to the Gregorian chant may be seen in the decree _De Vesperis_:

"Moreover, we judge it to be most desirable that the rudiments of
the Gregorian chant be taught and practised in parochial schools,
and thus, the number of those who can chant the psalms well
increasing more and more, gradually the greater part, at least,
of the people, according to the usage of the primitive church yet
preserved in many places, may be able to join with the sacred
ministers and choir in singing Vespers and other similar offices;
which will be the source of edification to all, according to that
saying of St. Paul, 'Speaking to one another in psalms and hymns
and spiritual canticles.'"[86]

In the same strain many bishops in Europe have raised their voices against the profane music which has crept insidiously into the holy place, and urged a speedy return to the use of the ancient chant.

From the authorities we have adduced we get at the mind of the Church, and see that it is plainly adverse to the introduction of the modern style of music in our sacred offices, and we have not been able to find one instance where its use has been officially permitted in any particular diocese but with the utmost reluctance, and not without expressing at the same time an earnest wish that the old chant of the Church might be restored to its primitive universal use.

There is also a significant fact not unworthy our notice. Looking at the Protestant churches around us, we see that it is only in those which are fast losing their former hold upon some form of ritual in their religious meetings, that elaborate figured music is finding a home, and garbled portions of "the masses" of Mozart, Haydn, and other Catholic composers are being sung to a nauseating adaptation of English words: while, on the other hand, those which are with equally rapid advances returning to the bosom of unity with the Catholic Church are cultivating the Gregorian chant to a degree which ought to put us to the blush, and imitating, as best they may, the ecclesiastical and devout order of Catholic worship, and hold our figured and florid music in deserved contempt. Straws show which way the wind blows.

Sudden revolutions, however, are not to our mind; and we know something of the difficulties in the way of such a reform in the matter of church music as the Church evidently desires, and a general movement toward the ancient discipline which she would encourage and bless. Because we cannot do all in a day is no reason why we cannot do something in a week. In England, the clergy have taken the whole subject to heart, and have already accomplished wonders. There are many churches where the whole services are given entire. All that is prescribed _de rigueur_ to be sung at Mass is sung. Vespers and Compline strictly according to the breviary are chanted in more than one church by the whole congregation. They have not entirely eliminated figured music, but are reducing it to its lowest terms.[87] Few churches are without their boy choirs, trained to sing the devout song of the sanctuary. The zealous Archbishop of Westminster has issued an order that no new church be opened in his diocese unless provision be made for a sanctuary choir. He has not thought it right, as he says, to enforce the orders of the former vicars apostolic, "_Foeminæ voces ne audiantur in choro_," yet he adds, "All that I can effect by the strongest expression of desire and by persuasion, I shall endeavor to effect."

Surely we can also do something toward aiding the Church in liberating herself from this captivity to an expression of her majestic offices so foreign to the true sound of her own voice. Looking back upon the days when the untiring voice of prayer was ascending to heaven from the holy sanctuaries of religion, when the festival days were kept and the faith was strong and the people devout, a faith and devotion due in a great measure to the sacredness of liturgical worship and the inspiration of the holy chants, may we not justly mourn the loss of this ancient fervor, and earnestly strive to awaken an interest in what, for so many good reasons, appears to hold more than an accidental relation to it?

We have no doubt that the coming Oecumenical Council will speak in yet stronger terms in favor of a reform so vital to the interests of religion in the whole world.

In subsequent articles we propose to consider some propositions made to ameliorate the present state of things, the characteristics of the Gregorian chant as the true song of the Church, and offer some hints as to the manner of its execution, and the means of obtaining and holding a permanent chorus of singers who shall make the divine praises resound in our consecrated Houses of Prayer in a manner more edifying to the faithful, and more becoming the Divine Majesty.

FOOTNOTES:

[85] "Ut omnia juxta ordinem fiant, et solemnes Ecclesiæ ritus integre serventur, monemus rectores ecclesiarum ut sedulo invigilent ad abusus eliminandos qui in cantu ecclesiastico in his regionibus invaluerunt. Curent igitur ut sacrosancto Missæ Sacrificio et aliis officiis musica, non vero musicæ divina officia inserviant. Noverint, juxta Ecclesiæ ritum, carmina vernaculo idiomate, inter Missarum solemnia, vel vesperas solemnes, decantare non licere."

[86] "Insuper valde exoptandum esse censemus, ut rudimenta cantus Gregoriani in scholis parochialibus exponantur et exerceantur, sicque numero eorum qui psalmos bene cantare valeant, magis magisque in crescente, paulatim major saltem pars populi, secundum primitivæ ecclesiæ adhuc in variis locis vigentem usum, Vesperas et alia similia cum ministris et choro decantare possit. Qua ratione omnium ædificatio promovebitur, juxta illud S. Pauli, 'Loquentes vobismetipsis in psalmis et hymnis et canticis spiritualibus.'"

[87] We are not a little surprised to see the _Rules for Singers and Composers_ issued by the cardinal vicar of Rome, only, as far as we can learn, for Rome itself, taken by certain English musical authors and publishers as a positive sanction of figured music, which has resulted in the recent publication of several masses both in unison and in parts, named after some saint. We commend most heartily the well-meant effort, but augur for them but a very mediocre success. If figured music is to be permitted at all, it will be found that neither priest nor organist, singers nor congregation are going to put up with what is second-rate.

We hope the prospectus of the publishers will be faithfully carried out and the rules of the cardinal vicar will be strictly adhered to. "The masses," although baptized with the names of all the saints in the calendar, will soon disappear from the "holy courts of Christian song," where, in our humble judgment, they have ever done more harm than good.

THE EARLY HISTORY OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH ON THE ISLAND OF NEW YORK.[88]

THE COLONIAL DAYS.

The appearance of a new edition of the brief but valuable and attractive work which the present Bishop of Newark issued in 1853, is a matter of congratulation. The Catholics of New York City have a history in this land, and it is too little known. Bishop Bayley was the first to supply the want; he wrote, as the title-page shows, while still connected with the diocese of New York as secretary to the late distinguished archbishop; and of course with singular advantages for correctness of details and for a just view of his subject. We may here ask our readers to pause and look back with us at the early history of Catholicity in this busy metropolis, and trace the progress of the church from its small beginning toward its present development, when we behold it with its archbishop, its zealous and active secular clergy, its regular clergy, embracing Franciscans of the Observance and Capucins, Dominicans, Jesuits, Redemptorists, Priests of Mercy, Paulists; its various orders and congregations devoted to the instruction of youth, the care of the orphan, the foundling, the wayward and the erring, whom it shelters in its asylums, hospitals, and protectorates, with a Catholic Publication Society, and several publishing houses and journals.

This progress the _Brief Sketch_ of Bishop Bayley enables us to trace down to the year 1853, his duties as bishop depriving him of the leisure needed to collect and arrange materials to continue it to the present time, by including an account of the progress since the work originally appeared. But even then, as the title shows, it professed to treat rather of the earlier history than of that which is almost contemporaneous.

The early history of the Catholic Church on the island of New York is indeed an attractive and interesting theme. It opens with the romantic story of the early Jesuit missions; for of the visits of the Catholic navigators, Verazzani and Sebastian Gomez, we have too little detail to know whether a priest actually said mass on our island.

The first priest who is known to have set his foot on the island of Manhattan was an illustrious missionary, who, while on his way from Quebec to his mission ground on the upper lakes, was in 1643 taken by the Mohawks, tortured almost beyond the power of human endurance, spared to become the slave of savages, bearing their burdens in their winter hunts, in their fishing trips to Saratoga Lake and the Hudson, on their trading visits to the Dutch Fort Orange, where Albany now stands, bearing all, enduring all, with a soul ever wrapt in prayer and union with God, till at last the Dutch overcame his reluctance and saved him from the hands of his savage captors, as they were about to put him to death. Covered with wounds and bruises, mutilated, extenuated, scarce human in dress or outward form, such was Isaac Jogues, the first Catholic priest to enter our great city, then in its infancy, to meet with respect and kindness from the Dutch, with the reverence due to a martyr from the two Catholics, sole children of the ancient faith then in New Amsterdam.

The stay of this illustrious missionary was brief, and his ministry was limited to the confessional, his chapel and vestments having fallen into the hands of the Indians, and greedily seized as trophies.

Governor Kieft displayed great humanity in his care of the missionary, and seized the first opportunity to enable him to return to Europe. Panting for martyrdom, Father Jogues remained in his native land only to obtain needed dispensations and permission to return to his labors. On reaching Canada, he found peace almost made with the Mohawks, and, proceeding as envoy to their territory, concluded a treaty. He was invited to plant a mission among them, as his associates had done among their kindred, the Hurons. But when he returned to do so, prejudices had sprung up, a hatred of Christianity as something baneful had seized them, the missionary was arrested, treated as a prisoner, and in a few days put to death on the banks of Caughnawaga Creek, on the 18th of October, 1646.

The next priest known to have visited New York was the Italian Father Bressani, who underwent a similar course of suffering, was captured, tortured, enslaved, and ransomed by the kindly Dutch; and by them sent to France. Although he subsequently published a short account of the Huron missions, he is entirely silent as to New Amsterdam, and we know nothing in regard to any exercise of the ministry during his stay on our island.

The first priest who came here actually to extend his ministry to any Catholics in the place was the Jesuit Father Simon Le Moyne, the discoverer of the salt springs at Syracuse, and the successful founder of the Mohawk and Onondaga missions. His visit was repeated, and there would seem to be a probability that he may have actually offered the holy sacrifice. The real field of his labors, and those of his associates, was, however, the castles of the Five Nations of Iroquois, in which, for many years, regular Catholic chapels subsisted, winning many to the faith, and saving many by baptism in infancy or in fatal illness. The converts at last began to emigrate to Canada, where three villages of Catholic Iroquois still attest the power of the gospel as preached by the early missionaries. Political jealousies, infused by the English, gradually intensified the innate dislike of the pagans to Catholicity, and prejudice, debauchery, and penal laws at last drove the Catholic missionaries from a field in which they had labored with such courageous and unremitting zeal.

For years the only Catholic missionary in their territory was Father Milet, held at Oneida as a prisoner. Flying visits alone after this kept up the faith, and in 1709, Father Peter Mareuil, on the outbreak of war, retired to Albany, and the mission in the Iroquois country virtually closed. The later and tardy Protestant efforts were in a measure built on these early Catholic labors, and from Dellius to Zeisberger they gladly availed themselves of the pupils of the Jesuits to form their own instructions.

This Iroquois church has its martyr missionary Jogues; its martyred neophytes, who died at the hands of their countrymen rather than renounce Jesus to bow the knee to Aireskoi; and its holy virgin in Catharine Tehgahkwita, the Genevieve of New France. Then came the growth of mustard-seed in the Dutch colony. We hear of the freedom of worship achieved and established by the founders of the Dutch republic. It is indeed a favorite theme. Catholic and Protestant alike battled with Spain, and the blood of both won the liberty of the Seven United Provinces. Then as now Catholics formed nearly half the population of Holland. But as soon as freedom was obtained, the Protestants turned on the Catholics, who had fought by their sides, deprived them of civil rights, put their religion under a ban, expelled them from their ancient churches. In fact, they halted in their course of tyranny and oppression, only when fear dictated a little prudence.

The very church given to the English Puritans under Robinson, by the Dutch authorities, was the church of the Catholic Beguines, whose residences encircled the chapel of which Dutch laws deprived them, in order to give it to foreigners who reviled the creed that erected it and the worship of the Most High so long offered within its walls.

When New Netherland was colonized, this fierce intolerance of the dominant party in Holland excluded Catholics from the new settlement as rigorously as Puritan fanaticism banished them from the shores of New England. The Catholic Hollander could not emigrate to the new land. No worship was permitted but that of the Protestant church of Holland. It is well to talk of Dutch toleration, but it is the veriest myth ever concocted; and in New Netherland, though men were received who had denied Christ and been pirates on Salee rovers, Catholicity was excluded.

Gradually a few Catholics did creep into the colony. Father Jogues on his visit in 1643 found an Irishman and a Portuguese woman, forerunners of the four hundred thousand now on Manhattan Island. Le Moyne, as we have stated, subsequently visited the island, and a Dutch domine avers that he did so in order to give the consolations of religion to some Catholic sailors and residents; but the fanaticism of Holland was here, and as an illustration of the freedom of worship supposed to exist, we find that in 1658 a Catholic in Brooklyn was punished for objecting to support a Reformed minister.

By the reduction of New York, in 1664, to the English sway, restrictions were really if not explicitly removed. James, Duke of York, was a Catholic, and his province of New York was for a time governed by Colonel Thomas Dongan, also a Catholic. His character and career are known to our readers. Under his administration Catholic priests for the first time took up their residence on the island. Unfortunately, we have little more than the names of three clergymen and some indication of the period of their stay; though hostile notices tell us of one terrible crime they perpetrated--they actually did erect a "Jesuit colledge," and taught boys Latin. The King's Farm was assigned as the place for this institution of learning; but before Catholicity could take an enduring form, James II. was hurled from his throne for trying to make the Anglican bishops speak a little toleration. As has often happened, intolerance, with the banner-cry of "Liberty," became the order of the day. New York soon enjoyed the benefit of a governor of a true bigot stamp, grandson of one of the bloodiest butchers in the blood-stained annals of Ireland, Coote, Earl of Bellomont. He disgraced the colonial legislation with penal laws against Catholics, and characteristically lied in the preamble of his act. But he was a stanch Protestant, and had some curious dealings with Captain Kidd. The result of this change in New York affairs was that the King's Farm slipped into the hands of the Episcopalians, and they built Trinity Church on it. There is some squabbling now about this property; why not settle the matter amicably by devoting it to the object originally intended--"a Jesuit colledge"?

Under the harrying that began with Leisler's usurpation of authority in the province on the fall of James, and his mad brain full of plots and "diabolical designs of the wicked and cruel papists," such Catholics as had settled in New York seem gradually to have removed elsewhere; or, if they remained, reared families who were strangers to the faith.

Thus far Catholicity in New York had a strange history. Is it a dream? Fact first: Enlightened Dutch Protestants, champions of liberty of conscience, exclude Catholics, and when they creep in, tax them to support a church against the dictates of their conscience. Fact second: Enlightened English Protestants, after a great and glorious revolution, and of course full of toleration, passed penal laws subjecting Catholic priests to imprisonment for life with murderers and criminals. Fact third: Catholics during the brief period of their influence gave the colony a legislature, a bill of rights, freedom of worship to all Christians, and a college, and first attempted to elevate and christianize the negro slave. Bishop Bayley thus narrates one of these glorious works:

"The first act of the first assembly of New York convened by
Colonel Dongan was the 'Charter of Liberty,' passed October 30th,
1683, which, among other things, declares that 'no person or
persons which profess faith in God by Jesus Christ shall, at any
time, be any ways molested, punished, disquieted, or called in
question for any difference of opinion, or matter of religious
concernment, who do not actually disturb the civil peace of the
province; but that all and every such person or persons may, from
time to time and at all times, freely have, and fully enjoy,
his or their judgments or consciences in matters of religion,
throughout all the province--they behaving themselves peaceably
and quietly, and not using this liberty to licentiousness, nor to
the civil injury or outward disturbance of others.' By another
enactment, all denominations then in the province were secured in
their liberty and discipline, and the like privilege was granted
to others who might come into it."

For fifty years the history of Catholicity on New York island is a blank. A priest was occasionally brought in as a prisoner on some Spanish ship taken by a privateer; that is all. Catholics are scarcely alluded to. But an awakening came in 1741 in one of the wildest excitements in our annals. Catholics had, indeed, nothing to do with it, and for a long time no breath implicated the few Catholics with the supposed dangers, till a silly letter of General Oglethorpe put the idea into the heads of the New York authorities. Then the negro question and the Catholic question, which have so long alternately afforded a topic for sensation, and have at times been so oddly combined, met for the first time in New York annals.

Bishop Bayley thus describes the negro plot:

"The year 1741 was made memorable by one of those popular
excitements which shows that whole communities as well as
individuals are sometimes liable to lose their wits. Upon a rumor
of a plot made by the negroes to burn the city and massacre the
inhabitants, the whole body of the people were carried away by a
sudden excitement. The lieutenant-governor offered a reward of
one hundred pounds and full pardon to any free white person who
would make known the author or authors of certain attempts to
set fire to houses in various parts of the city. A servant-girl,
named Mary Burton, living with a man named Hughson, who had been
previously condemned for receiving stolen goods, came forward to
claim the reward, declaring that certain negroes who frequented
her master's house (he kept a small tavern) had made a plot; one
of the accused, named Cuffee, she declared had said that 'a great
many people had too much, and others too little,' and that such
an unequal state of things should not continue long.[89] The
pretended disclosures increased the excitement, and the lawyers
of the city, to the number of seven, with the attorney-general,
were called together to take council in regard to the matter. They
certainly manifested very little coolness or judgment, and may be
said to have led on the unfair and unjust trials which followed.
The accused had no counsel allowed them; the attorney-general and
the whole bar were on the side of the prosecution; the evidence
was loose and inconclusive, and came without exception from
the mouths of interested persons of bad character. Yet, upon
such evidence as this, four white persons were hanged, eleven
negroes were burned at the stake, eighteen hanged, and fifty
were transported and sold, principally in the West Indies.[90]
Among those hung was the unfortunate Mr. John Ury. Whether he
was really a Catholic priest or not, he was certainly condemned
and hung as such. We have no other evidence upon the matter than
Horsmanden's account, and from this it does not clearly appear
whether he was really a priest or a nonjuring clergyman of the
Church of England.[91] The most conclusive fact in favor of
his being a priest is founded upon the circumstance that, when
arraigned as a priest, tried as a priest, and condemned as a
priest, he never formally denied it, nor exhibited any evidence of
his being ordained in the Church of England.[92]

"The persons most to blame were the judges and lawyers. The
speech of the attorney-general on the trial of Ury, the sentence
given by Horsmanden upon certain of the negroes, and that by the
chief-justice on others, are so harsh, cruel, and abusive that we
could hardly believe it possible that they had uttered them, if
they were not published with the authority of Horsmanden himself.
It is evident, however, that their 'holy horror of Popery' had as
much to do with the whole matter as their fear of insurrection
among the blacks."

Of course after this attack of insanity New York was scarcely a place for a Catholic to reside. There must have been a few; but evidently they avoided attracting attention. The next Catholic sensation was that of a poor creature whose life had been a sad defiance of all religion and morality, but who, at her death, sent some money to the Rev. Mr. Inglis, rector of Trinity Church, with a request that she should be buried in the church. She was indeed interred there, till a clamor rose fierce and loud. She was not only a public sinner but a Catholic; the latter, too terrible a sin to forgive, so she was taken up; but Mr. Inglis never recovered from the stigma.

Not long before the Revolution, the few Catholics in New York were again the object of the zeal of the Jesuit fathers, with whom so much of our history is connected. The mission of the sons of St. Ignatius, which in Maryland was coeval with the settlement of that colony, gradually extended to Pennsylvania and New Jersey, aided chiefly by the bequest of Sir John James. The mission was one involving some danger, and hence required great caution; but finally a Catholic priest stood in New York to begin to gather the faithful, and administer the sacraments of which they had been so long deprived. The priest who formed this first congregation, the nucleus of St. Peter's, and thus of all the Catholic institutions on the Island of Manhattan, was a German Jesuit, Father Ferdinand Steinmeyr, known on the American mission as Father Farmer. A man of extensive learning, not only in the theological studies of his church, but in the natural sciences, the Royal Society of London had been glad to add his name to their list of members. Here he would have been a fit associate for Colden, Franklin, and Barton, but the gratification of this taste would have made him too conspicuous in a prejudiced and hostile community; and the man of science submitted to be passed by without notice, anxious only to do his duty as a missionary, and gather the lost sheep of Israel. The reticence required unfortunately leaves us without any direct information as to his visits, and we do not positively know when or where this man, whose learning would have adorned the colony of New York, first offered the holy sacrifice for the pioneer congregation of Catholics in this city. Bishop Bayley has collected the various early notes and hints on this interesting point, but it is after all involved in great obscurity. Yet this founder of Catholicity in New York City lived so recently, that the writer, who can claim neither gray hairs nor advanced years, remembers several who had received the sacraments of the church at his hands.

Father Farmer came undoubtedly with the address of some German Catholic, and his visit would thus be less likely to attract attention, as German clergymen of various denominations often passed through the city. Mr. Idley, a German of the early day, claimed that mass was first said in his house in Wall street, and the claim may not be unfounded.

Father Farmer continued these occasional visits until the breaking out of hostilities with England. The defeat of Washington on Long Island threw New York into the hands of the English, and for the next seven years his pastoral visits became impossible.