CHARLES AVISON

ANESSAYONMUSICAL EXPRESSIONBY CHARLES AVISONOrganistinNewcastleWithAlterationsand LargeAdditionsTo which is added,A LETTER to the AUTHORconcerning the Music of theAncientsand some Passages inClassic Writersrelating to the Subject.likewiseMr. AVISON'S REPLY to the Author ofRemarks on the Essay onMusical ExpressionIn a Letter from Mr.Avisonto his Friend inLondonTHE THIRD EDITIONLONDONPrinted for LOCKYER DAVIS, inHolborn.Printer to theRoyal Society.MDCCLXXV.

ANESSAYONMUSICAL EXPRESSIONBY CHARLES AVISONOrganistinNewcastleWithAlterationsand LargeAdditions

To which is added,A LETTER to the AUTHORconcerning the Music of theAncientsand some Passages inClassic Writersrelating to the Subject.

likewiseMr. AVISON'S REPLY to the Author ofRemarks on the Essay onMusical ExpressionIn a Letter from Mr.Avisonto his Friend inLondon

THE THIRD EDITIONLONDONPrinted for LOCKYER DAVIS, inHolborn.Printer to theRoyal Society.MDCCLXXV.

The author of the "Remarks on the Essay on Musical Expression" was the aforementioned Dr. W. Hayes, and although the learned doctor's pamphlet seems to have died a natural death, some idea of its strictures may be gained from Avison's reply. The criticisms are rather too technical to be426of interest to the general reader, but one is given here to show how gentlemanly a temper Mr. Avison possessed when he was under fire. His reply runs "His first critique, and, I think, his masterpiece, contains many circumstantial, but false and virulent remarks on the first allegro of these concertos, to which he supposes I would give the name offugue. Be it just what he pleases to call it I shall not defend what the public is already in possession of, the public being the most proper judge. I shall only here observe, that our critic has wilfully, or ignorantly, confounded the termsfugueandimitation, which latter is by no means subject to the same laws with the former.

Handel

"Had I observed the method of answering theaccidental subjectsin thisallegro, as laid down by our critic in his remarks, they must have produced most shocking effects; which, though this mechanic in music, would, perhaps, have approved, yet better judges might, in reality, have imagined I had known no other art than that of the spruzzarino." There is a nice independence about this that would indicate Mr. Avison to be at least an aspirant in the right direction in musical composition. His criticism of Handel, too, at a time when the world was divided between enthusiasm for427Handel and enthusiasm for Buononcini, shows a remarkably just and penetrating estimate of this great genius.

"Mr. Handel is, in music, what his own Dryden was in poetry; nervous, exalted, and harmonious; but voluminous, and, consequently, not always correct. Their abilities equal to every thing; their execution frequently inferior. Born with genius capable ofsoaring the boldest flights; they have sometimes, to suit the vitiated taste of the age they lived in,descended to the lowest. Yet, as both their excellencies are infinitely more numerous than their deficiencies, so both their characters will devolve to latest posterity, not as models of perfection, yet glorious examples of those amazing powers that actuate the human soul."

On the whole, Mr. Avison's "little book" on Musical Expression is eminently sensible as to the matter and very agreeable in style. He hits off well, for example, the difference between "musical expression" and imitation.

"As dissonances and shocking sounds cannot be called Musical Expression, 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 obtained it. Thus, the gradual rising428or falling 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 resembling 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 tendency is rather to fix the hearer's attention on the similitude between the sounds and the things which they describe, and thereby to excite a reflex act of the understanding, than to affect the heart and raise the passions of the soul.

"This distinction seems more worthy our notice at present, because some very eminent composers have attached themselves chiefly to the method here mentioned; and seem to think they have exhausted 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 gentlemen to express the following words ofMilton,

—Their songsDivide the night, and lift our thoughts to heav'n:

429it is highly probable, that upon the worddivide, he would run adivisionof half a dozen bars; and on the subsequent part of the sentence, he would not think he had done the poet justice, orrisento thatheightof sublimity which he ought to express, till he had climbed up to the very top of his instrument, or at least as far as the 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." What Avison calls "musical expression," we call to-day "content." And thus Avison "tenders evidence that music in his day as much absorbed heart and soul then as Wagner's music now." It is not unlikely that this very passage may have started Browning off on his argumentative way concerning the question: how lasting and how fundamental are the powers of musical expression.

The poet's memory goes back a hundred years only to reach "The bands-man Avison whose little book and large tune had led him the long way fromto-day."

430

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

And to-day's music-manufacture,—Brahms,Wagner, Dvorak, Liszt,—to where—trumpets, shawms,Show yourselves joyful!—Handel reigns—supreme?By no means! Buononcini's work is themeFor fit laudation of the impartial few:(We stand in England, mind you!) Fashion tooFavors Geminiani—of those choiceConcertos: nor there wants a certain voiceRaised in thy favor likewise, famed PepuschDear to our great-grandfathers! In a bushOf Doctor's wig, they prized thee timing beatsWhile Greenway trilled "Alexis." Such were featsOf music in thy day—dispute who list—Avison, of Newcastle organist!

And here's your music all alive once more—As once it was alive, at least: just soThe figured worthies of a waxwork-showAttest—such people, years and years ago,Looked thus when outside death had life below,—Could say "We are now," not "We were of yore,"—"Feel how our pulses leap!" and not "Explore—Explain why quietude has settled o'erSurface once all-awork!" Ay, such a "Suite"Roused heart to rapture, such a "Fugue" would catchSoul heavenwards up, when time was: why attachBlame to exhausted faultlessness, no matchFor fresh achievement? Feat once—ever feat!How can completion grow still more complete?431Hear Avison! He tenders evidenceThat music in his day as much absorbedHeart and soul then as Wagner's music now.Perfect from center to circumference—Orbed to the full can be but fully orbed:And yet—and yet—whence comes it that "O Thou"—Sighed by the soul at eve to Hesperus—Will not again take wing and fly away(Since fatal Wagner fixed it fast for us)In some unmodulated minor? Nay,Even by Handel's help!

Having stated the problem that confronts him, namely, the change of fashion in music, the poet boldly goes on to declare that there is no truer truth obtainable by man than comes of music, because it does give direct expression to the moods of the soul, yet there is a hitch that balks her of full triumph, namely the musical form in which these moods are expressed does not stay fixed. This statement is enriched by a digression upon the meaning of the soul.

I state it thus:There is no truer truth obtainableBy Man than comes of music. "Soul"—(acceptA word which vaguely names what no adeptIn word-use fits and fixes so that stillThing shall not slip word's fetter and remainInnominate as first, yet, free again,432Is no less recognized the absoluteFact underlying that same other factConcerning which no cavil can disputeOur nomenclature when we call it "Mind"—Something not Matter)—"Soul," who seeks shall findDistinct beneath that something. You exactAn illustrative image? This may suit.

We see a work: the worker works behind,Invisible himself. Suppose his actBe to o'erarch a gulf: he digs, transports,Shapes and, through enginery—all sizes, sorts,Lays stone by stone until a floor compactProves our bridged causeway. So works Mind—by stressOf faculty, with loose facts, more or less,Builds up our solid knowledge: all the same,Underneath rolls what Mind may hide not tame,An element which works beyond our guess,Soul, the unsounded sea—whose lift of surge,Spite of all superstructure, lets emerge,In flower and foam, Feeling from out the deepsMind arrogates no mastery upon—Distinct indisputably. Has there goneTo dig up, drag forth, render smooth from roughMind's flooring,—operosity enough?Still the successive labor of each inch,Who lists may learn: from the last turn of winchThat let the polished slab-stone find its place,To the first prod of pick-axe at the baseOf the unquarried mountain,—what was allMind's varied process except natural,Nay, easy, even, to descry, describe,After our fashion? "So worked Mind: its tribe433Of senses ministrant above, below,Far, near, or now or haply long agoBrought to pass knowledge." But Soul's sea,—drawn whence,Fed how, forced whither,—by what evidenceOf ebb and flow, that's felt beneath the tread,Soul has its course 'neath Mind's work over-head,—Who tells of, tracks to source the founts of Soul?Yet wherefore heaving sway and restless rollThis side and that, except to emulateStability above? To match and mateFeeling with knowledge,—make as manifestSoul's work as Mind's work, turbulence as rest,Hates, loves, joys, woes, hopes, fears, that rise and sinkCeaselessly, passion's transient flit and wink,A ripple's tinting or a spume-sheet's spreadWhitening the wave,—to strike all this life dead,Run mercury into a mould like lead,And henceforth have the plain result to show—How we Feel, hard and fast as what we Know—This were the prize and is the puzzle!—whichMusic essays to solve: and here's the hitchThat balks her of full triumph else to boast.

Then follows his explanation of the "hitch," which necessitates a comparison with the other arts. His contention is that art adds nothing to theknowledgeof the mind. It simply moulds into a fixed form elements already known which before lay loose and dissociated, it therefore does not really create. But there is one realm, that of feeling, to which the arts never succeed in giving per434manent form though all try to do it. What is it they succeed in getting? The poet does not make the point very clear, but he seems to be groping after the idea that the arts present only thephenomenaof feeling or the image of feeling instead of thereality. Like all people who are appreciative of music, he realizes that music comes nearer to expressing the spiritual reality of feeling than the other arts, and yet music of all the arts is the least permanent in its appeal.

All Arts endeavor this, and she the mostAttains thereto, yet fails of touching: why?Does Mind get Knowledge from Art's ministry?What's known once is known ever: Arts arrange,Dissociate, re-distribute, interchangePart with part, lengthen, broaden, high or deepConstruct their bravest,—still such pains produceChange, not creation: simply what lay looseAt first lies firmly after, what designWas faintly traced in hesitating lineOnce on a time, grows firmly resoluteHenceforth and evermore. Now, could we shootLiquidity into a mould,—some wayArrest Soul's evanescent moods, and keepUnalterably still the forms that leapTo life for once by help of Art!—which yearnsTo save its capture: Poetry discerns,Painting is 'ware of passion's rise and fall,Bursting, subsidence, intermixture—all435A-seethe within the gulf. Each Art a-strainWould stay the apparition,—nor in vain:The Poet's word-mesh, Painter's sure and swiftColor-and-line-throw—proud the prize they lift!Thus felt Man and thus looked Man,—passions caughtI' the midway swim of sea,—not much, if aught,Of nether-brooding loves, hates, hopes and fears,Enwombed past Art's disclosure. Fleet the years,And still the Poet's page holds HelenaAt gaze from topmost Troy—"But where are they,My brothers, in the armament I nameHero by hero? Can it be that shameFor their lost sister holds them from the war?"—Knowing not they already slept afarEach of them in his own dear native land.Still on the Painter's fresco, from the handOf God takes Eve the life-spark whereuntoShe trembles up from nothingness. OutdoBoth of them, Music! Dredging deeper yet,Drag into day,—by sound, thy master-net,—The abysmal bottom-growth, ambiguous thingUnbroken of a branch, palpitatingWith limbs' play and life's semblance! There it lies,Marvel and mystery, of mysteriesAnd marvels, most to love and laud thee for!Save it from chance and change we most abhor!Give momentary feeling permanence,So that thy capture hold, a century hence,Truth's very heart of truth as, safe to-day,The Painter's Eve, the Poet's Helena,Still rapturously bend, afar still throwThe wistful gaze! Thanks, Homer, Angelo!Could Music rescue thus from Soul's profound,Give feeling immortality by sound,436Then were she queenliest of Arts! Alas—As well expect the rainbow not to pass!"Praise 'Radaminta'—love attains thereinTo perfect utterance! Pity—what shall winThy secret like 'Rinaldo'?"—so men said:Once all was perfume—now, the flower is dead—They spied tints, sparks have left the spar! Love, hate,Joy, fear, survive,—alike importunateAs ever to go walk the world again,Nor ghost-like pant for outlet all in vainTill Music loose them, fit each filmilyWith form enough to know and name it byFor any recognizer sure of kenAnd sharp of ear, no grosser denizenOf earth than needs be. Nor to such appealIs Music long obdurate: off they steal—How gently, dawn-doomed phantoms! back come theyFull-blooded with new crimson of broad day—Passion made palpable once more. Ye lookYour last on Handel? Gaze your first on Gluck!Why wistful search, O waning ones, the chartOf stars for you while Haydn, while MozartOccupies heaven? These also, fanned to fire,Flamboyant wholly,—so perfections tire,—Whiten to wanness, till ... let others noteThe ever-new invasion!

The poet makes no attempt to give any reason why music should be so ephemeral in its appeal. He merely refers to the development of harmony and modulation, nor does it seem to enter his head that there can be any question about the appeal being eph437emeral. He imagines the possibility of resuscitating dead and gone music with modern harmonies and novel modulations, but gives that up as anirreverentinnovation. His next mood is a historical one; dead and gone music may have something for us in a historical sense, that is, if we bring our life to kindle theirs, we may sympathetically enter into the life of the time.

I devoteRather my modicum of parts to useWhat power may yet avail to re-infuse(In fancy, please you!) sleep that looks like deathWith momentary liveliness, lend breathTo make the torpor half inhale. O Relfe,An all-unworthy pupil, from the shelfOf thy laboratory, dares unstopBottle, ope box, extract thence pinch and dropOf dusts and dews a many thou didst shrineEach in its right receptacle, assignTo each its proper office, letter largeLabel and label, then with solemn charge,Reviewing learnedly the list completeOf chemical reactives, from thy feetPush down the same to me, attent below,Power in abundance: armed wherewith I goTo play the enlivener. Bring good antique stuff!Was it alight once? Still lives spark enoughFor breath to quicken, run the smouldering ashRed right-through. What, "stone-dead" were fools so rash438As style my Avison, because he lackedModern appliance, spread out phrase unrackedBy modulations fit to make each hairStiffen upon his wig? See there—and there!I sprinkle my reactives, pitch broadcastDiscords and resolutions, turn aghastMelody's easy-going, jostle lawWith license, modulate (no Bach in awe),Change enharmonically (Hudl to thank),And lo, up-start the flamelets,—what was blankTurns scarlet, purple, crimson! Straightway scannedBy eyes that like new lustre—Love once moreYearns through the Largo, Hatred as beforeRages in the Rubato: e'en thy March,My Avison, which, sooth to say—(ne'er archEyebrows in anger!)—timed, in Georgian yearsThe step precise of British GrenadiersTo such a nicety,—if score I crowd,If rhythm I break, if beats I vary,—tapAt bar's off-starting turns true thunder-clap,Ever the pace augmented till—what's here?Titanic striding toward Olympus!

FearNo such irreverent innovation! StillGlide on, go rolling, water-like, at will—Nay, were thy melody in monotone,The due three-parts dispensed with!

This aloneComes of my tiresome talking: Music's throneSeats somebody whom somebody unseats,439And whom in turn—by who knows what new featsOf strength,—shall somebody as sure push down,Consign him dispossessed of sceptre, crown,And orb imperial—whereto?—Never dreamThat what once lived shall ever die! They seemDead—do they? lapsed things lost in limbo? BringOur life to kindle theirs, and straight each kingStarts, you shall see, stands up, from head to footNo inch that is not Purcell! Wherefore? (SuitMeasure to subject, first—no marching onYet in thy bold C Major, Avison,As suited step a minute since: no: wait—Into the minor key first modulate—Gently with A, now—in the Lesser Third!)

The really serious conclusion of the poem amounts to a doctrine of relativity in art and not only in art but in ethics and religion. It is a statement in poetry of the prevalent thought of the nineteenth century, of which the most widely known exponent was Herbert Spencer. The form in which every truth manifests itself is partial and therefore will pass, but the underlying truth, the absolute which unfolds itself in form after form is eternal. Every manifestation in form, according to Browning, however, has also its infinite value in relation to the truth which is preserved through it.

Of all the lamentable debts incurredBy Man through buying knowledge, this were worst:440That he should find his last gain prove his firstWas futile—merely nescience absolute,Not knowledge in the bud which holds a fruitHaply undreamed of in the soul's Spring-tide,Pursed in the petals Summer opens wide,And Autumn, withering, rounds to perfect ripe,—Not this,—but ignorance, a blur to wipeFrom human records, late it graced so much."Truth—this attainment? Ah, but such and suchBeliefs of yore seemed inexpugnable."Whenwe attained them! E'en as they, so willThis their successor have the due morn, noon,Evening and night—just as an old-world tuneWears out and drops away, until who hearsSmilingly questions—'This it was brought tearsOnce to all eyes,—this roused heart's rapture once?'So will it be with truth that, for the nonce,Styles itself truth perennial: 'ware its wile!Knowledge turns nescience,—foremost on the file,Simply proves first of our delusions."

"Whenwe attained them! E'en as they, so willThis their successor have the due morn, noon,Evening and night—just as an old-world tuneWears out and drops away, until who hearsSmilingly questions—'This it was brought tearsOnce to all eyes,—this roused heart's rapture once?'So will it be with truth that, for the nonce,Styles itself truth perennial: 'ware its wile!Knowledge turns nescience,—foremost on the file,Simply proves first of our delusions."

Now—Blare it forth, bold C Major! Lift thy brow,Man, the immortal, that wast never fooledWith gifts no gifts at all, nor ridiculed—Man knowing—he who nothing knew! As Hope,Fear, Joy, and Grief,—though ampler stretch and scopeThey seek and find in novel rhythm, fresh phrase,—Were equally existent in far daysOf Music's dim beginning—even so,Truth was at full within thee long ago,Alive as now it takes what latest shape441May startle thee by strangeness. Truths escapeTime's insufficient garniture; they fade,They fall—those sheathings now grown sere, whose aidWas infinite to truth they wrapped, saved fineAnd free through March frost: May dews crystallineNourish truth merely,—does June boast the fruitAs—not new vesture merely but, to boot,Novel creation? Soon shall fade and fallMyth after myth—the husk-like lies I callNew truth's corolla-safeguard: Autumn comes,So much the better!

As to the questions why music does not give feeling immortality through sound, and why it should be so ephemeral in its appeal, there are various things to be said. It is just possible that it may soon come to be recognized that the psychic growth of humanity is more perfectly reflected in music than any where else. Ephemeralness may be predicated of culture-music more certainly than of folk-music, why? Because culture-music often has occupied itself more with the technique than with the content, while folk-music, being the spontaneous expression of feeling must have content. Folk-music, it is true, is simple, but if it be genuine in its feeling I doubt whether it ever loses its power to move. Therefore, in folk-music is possibly made permanent simple states of feeling. Now in culture-music, the development has constantly been442in the direction of the expression of the ultimate spiritual reality of emotions. Music is now actually trying to accomplish what Browning demands of it:

"Dredging deeper yet,Drag into day,—by sound, thy master-net,—The abysmal bottom-growth, ambiguous thingUnbroken of a branch, palpitatingWith limbs' play and life's semblance! There it lies,Marvel and mystery, of mysteriesAnd marvels, most to love and laud thee for!Save it from chance and change we most abhor."

This is true no matter what the emotion may be. Hate may have its "eidolon" as well as love. Above all arts, music has the power of raising evil into a region of the artistically beautiful. Doubt, despair, passion, become blossoms plucked by the hand of God when transmuted in the alembic of the brain of genius—which is not saying that he need experience any of these passions himself. In fact, it is his power of perceiving the eidolon of beauty in modes of passion or emotion not his own that makes him the great genius.

It is doubtless true that whenever in culture-music there has really been content aroused by feeling, no matter what the stage of technique reached,thatmusic retains its power to move. It is also highly probably that in the443earlier objective phases of music, even the contemporary audiences were not moved in the sense that we should be moved to-day. The audiences were objective also and their enthusiasm may have been aroused by merely the imitative aspects of music as Avison called them. It is certainly a fact that content and form are more closely linked in music than in any other art. Suppose, however, we imagine the development of melody, counterpoint, harmony, modulation, etc., to be symbolized by a series of concrete materials like clay bricks, silver bricks, gold bricks, diamond bricks; a beautiful thought might take as exquisite a form in bricks of clay as it would in diamond bricks, or diamond bricks might be flung together without any informing thought so that they would attract only the thoughtless by their glitter. But it also follows that, with the increase in the kinds of bricks, there is an increase in the possibilities for subtleties in psychic expression, therefore music to-day is coming nearer and nearer to the spiritual reality of feeling. It requires the awakened soul that Maeterlinck talks about, that is, the soul alive to the spiritual essences of things to recognize this new realm which composers are bringing to us in music.

There are always, at least three kinds of444appreciators of music, those who can see beauty only in the masters of the past, those who can see beauty only in the last new composer, and those who ecstatically welcome beauty past, present and to come. These last are not only psychically developed themselves, but they are able to retain delight in simpler modes of feeling. They may be raised to a seventh heaven of delight by a Bach fugue played on a clavichord by Mr. Dolmetsch, feeling as if angels were ministering unto them, or to a still higher heaven of delight by a Tschaikowsky symphony or a string quartet of Grieg, feeling that here the seraphim continually do cry, or they may enter into the very presence of the most High through some subtly exquisite and psychic song of an American composer, for some of the younger American composers are indeed approaching "Truth's very heart of truth," in their music.

On the whole, one gets rather the impression that the poet has here tackled a problem upon which he did not have great insight. He passes from one mood to another, none of which seem especially satisfactory to himself, and concludes with one of the half-truths of nineteenth-century thought. It is true as far as it goes that forms evolve, and it is a good truth to oppose to the martinets of settled445standards in poetry, music and painting; it is also true that the form is a partial expression of a whole truth, but there is the further truth that, let a work of art be really a work of genius, and the form as well as the content touches the infinite; that is, we have as Browning says in a poem alreadyquoted,"Bernard de Mandeville," the very sun in little, or as he makes Abt Vogler say of his music, the broken arc which goes to the formation of the perfect round, or to quote still another poem of Browning's, "Cleon," the perfect rhomb or trapezoid that has its own place in a mosaic pavement.

The poem closes in a rolicking frame of mind, which is not remarkably consistent with the preceding thought, except that the poet seems determined to get all he can out of the music of the past by enlivening it with his own jolly mood. To this end he sets a patriotic poem to the tune of Avison's march, in honor of our old friend, Pym. It is a clevertour de forcefor the words are made to match exactly in rhythm and quantity the notes of the march. Truth to say, the essential goodness of the tune comes out by means of these enlivening words.

Therefore—bang the drums,Blow the trumpets, Avison! March-motive? that's446Truth which endures resetting. Sharps and flats,Lavish at need, shall dance athwart thy scoreWhen ophicleide and bombardon's uproarMate the approaching trample, even nowBig in the distance—or my ears deceive—Of federated England, fitly weaveMarch-music for the Future!

Or supposeBack, and not forward, transformation goes?Once more some sable-stoled procession—say,From Little-ease to Tyburn—wends its way,Out of the dungeon to the gallows-treeWhere heading, hacking, hanging is to beOf half-a-dozen recusants—this dayThree hundred years ago! How duly dronesElizabethan plain-song—dim antiqueGrown clarion-clear the while I humbly wreakA classic vengeance on thy March! It moans—Larges and Longs and Breves displacing quiteCrotchet-and-quaver pertness—brushing barsAside and filling vacant sky with starsHidden till now that day returns to night.

Avison's MarchListen

Avison's March

Listen

Nor night nor day: one purpose move us both,Be thy mood mine! As thou wast minded, Man'sThe cause our music champions: I were lothTo think we cheered our troop to Preston PansIgnobly: back to times of England's best!Parliament stands for privilege—life and limbGuards Hollis, Haselrig, Strode, Hampden, Pym,The famous Five. There's rumor of arrest.447Bring up the Train Bands, Southwark! They protest:Shall we not all join chorus? Hark the hymn,—Rough, rude, robustious—homely heart a-throb,Harsh voises a-hallo, as beseems the mob!How good is noise! what's silence but despairOf making sound match gladness never there?Give me some great glad "subject," glorious Bach,Where cannon-roar not organ-peal we lack!Join in, give voice robustious rude and rough,—Avison helps—so heart lend noise enough!Fife, trump, drum, sound! and singers then,Marching, say "Pym, the man of men!"Up, head's, your proudest—out, throats, your loudest—"Somerset's Pym!"Strafford from the block, Eliot from the den,Foes, friends, shout "Pym, our citizen!"Wail, the foes he quelled,—hail, the friends he held,"Tavistock's Pym!"Hearts prompt heads, hands that ply the penTeach babes unborn the where and when—Tyrants, he braved them,—Patriots, he saved them—"Westminster's Pym."

Fife, trump, drum, sound! and singers then,Marching, say "Pym, the man of men!"Up, head's, your proudest—out, throats, your loudest—"Somerset's Pym!"

Strafford from the block, Eliot from the den,Foes, friends, shout "Pym, our citizen!"Wail, the foes he quelled,—hail, the friends he held,"Tavistock's Pym!"

Hearts prompt heads, hands that ply the penTeach babes unborn the where and when—Tyrants, he braved them,—Patriots, he saved them—"Westminster's Pym."

Another English musician, Arthur Chappell, was the inspiration of a graceful little sonnet written by the poet in an album which was presented to Mr. Chappell in recognition of his popular concerts in London. Browning was a constant attendant at these. It gives a448true glimpse of the poet in a highly appreciative mood:

1884

"Enter my palace," if a prince should say—"Feast with the Painters! See, in bounteous row,They range from Titian up to Angelo!"Could we be silent at the rich survey?A host so kindly, in as great a wayInvites to banquet, substitutes for showSound that's diviner still, and bids us knowBach like Beethoven; are we thankless, pray?Thanks, then, to Arthur Chappell,—thanks to himWhose every guest henceforth not idly vaunts"Sense has received the utmost Nature grants,My cup was filled with rapture to the brim,When, night by night,—ah, memory, how it haunts!—Music was poured by perfect ministrants,By Halle, Schumann, Piatti, Joachim."

Thanks, then, to Arthur Chappell,—thanks to himWhose every guest henceforth not idly vaunts"Sense has received the utmost Nature grants,My cup was filled with rapture to the brim,When, night by night,—ah, memory, how it haunts!—Music was poured by perfect ministrants,By Halle, Schumann, Piatti, Joachim."

FOOTNOTES:[1]See the Tempest volume in First Folio Shakespeare. (Crowell & Co.)[2]Estes and Lauriat, Boston, Mass.[3]Religious Progress of the Century.[4]See Withrow.

[1]See the Tempest volume in First Folio Shakespeare. (Crowell & Co.)

[2]Estes and Lauriat, Boston, Mass.

[3]Religious Progress of the Century.

[4]See Withrow.

Transcriber NotesTypographical inconsistencies have been changed and arehighlightedand listed below.Archaic and variable spelling and hyphenation are preserved.Author's punctuation style is preserved, except where noted.Transcriber ChangesThe following changes were made to the original text:Page 10: Removed extra quote after Keats (What porridge had JohnKeats?)Page 21: Was 'blurrs' (Stray-leaves, fragments,blursand blottings)Page 49: Paragraph continued, no quote needed (Tibullusgives Virgil equal credit for having in his writings touched with telling truth)Page 53: Was 'Shakesspeare' (Jonson wrote for the First Folio edition ofShakespeareprinted in 1623)Page 53: Was 'B. I.' (B. J.)Page 53: Added single quotes (Shakespeare's talk in "At the'Mermaid'" grows out of the supposition)Page 69: Was 'Shakepeare's' (He thinks the opening Sonnets are to the Earl of Southampton, known to beShakespeare'spatron)Page 81: Added comma after Strafford (not Pym, the leader of the people, butStrafford,the supporter of the King.)Page 85: Added end quote (some half-dozen years of immunity to the 'fretted tenement' of Strafford's 'fierysoul')Page 91: Capitalized King (TheKing, upon his visit to Scotland, had been shocked)Page 100: Was 'Finnees' (Hampden, Hollis, theyoungerVane, Rudyard,Fiennesand many of the Presbyterian Party)Page 136: Removed extra start quote ("Be my friendOffriends!"—My King! I would have....)Page 137: Was 'brillance' (The else imperialbrillianceof your mind)Page 137: Was 'you way' (If Pym is busy,—you maywrite of Pym.)Page 140: Capitalized King (theKing, therefore, summoned it to meet on the third of November.)Page 142: Matching the original: leaving it hyphenated (the greatest in England would have stooddis-covered.')Page 172: Was 'Partiot' (ThePatriotPym, or the Apostate Strafford!)Page 174: Was 'perfers' (The Kingprefersto leave the door ajar)Page 178: Was 'her's' (I amhersnow, and I will die.)Page 193: Was 'Bethrothal' (Till death us do join past parting—that sounds likeBetrothalindeed!)Page 200: Was 'canonade' (Such a castle seldom crumbles by sheer stress ofcannonade: 'Tis when foes are foiled and fighting's finished that vile rains invade)Page 203: Inserted stanza (DownI sat to cards, one evening)Page 203: Added starting quote ("Whenhe found his voice, he stammered 'That expression once again!')Page 204: Added starting quote ('Endit! no time like the present!)Page 224: Changed comma to period (the morning's lessons conned with thetutor.There, too, it was that he impressed on the lad those maxims)Page 236: Added end quote (Why, he makes sure of her—"do you say,yes"— "She'll not say, no,"—what comes it to beside?)Page 265: Added stanza ("'I'vebeen about those laces we need for ... never mind!)Page 266: Keeping original spelling (Withdrerimentabout, within may life be found)Page 267: Added stanza ("'Wickeddear Husband, first despair and then rejoice!)Page 276: Was 'checks' (The dryness of "Aristotle'scheeks" is as usual so enlivened by Browning that the fate of Halbert and Hob grows)Page 289: Added starting quote ("Youwrong your poor disciple.)Page 290: Removed end quote (Wish I could take you; but fame travelsfast)Page 291: Was 'aud' (Auntandniece, you and me.)Page 294: Was 'oustide' (Suchoutside! Now,—confound me for a prig!)Page 299: Changed singe quote to double ("Notyou! But I see.)Page 315: Was 'Descretion' (To live and die together—for a month,Discretioncan award no more!)Page 329: Removed starting quote ("He may believe; and yet, and yetHowcan he?" All eyes turn with interest.)Page 344: Left in ending quote with unknown start (High Church, and the Evangelicals, or LowChurch.")Page 370: Changed period to comma (Judgment drops her damningplummet,Pronouncing such a fatal space)Page 421: Removed starting quote (Aboutthe year 1676, the corporation of Newcastle contributed)Page 429: Added period (whose little book and large tune had led him the long way fromto-day.")Page 437: Was 'irreverant' (gives that up as anirreverentinnovation.)Page 440: Added beginning quote ("Whenwe attained them!)Page 445: Added comma (we have as Browning says in a poem alreadyquoted,"Bernard de Mandeville,")

Transcriber Notes

Typographical inconsistencies have been changed and arehighlightedand listed below.

Archaic and variable spelling and hyphenation are preserved.

Author's punctuation style is preserved, except where noted.

Transcriber Changes

The following changes were made to the original text:

Page 10: Removed extra quote after Keats (What porridge had JohnKeats?)

Page 21: Was 'blurrs' (Stray-leaves, fragments,blursand blottings)

Page 49: Paragraph continued, no quote needed (Tibullusgives Virgil equal credit for having in his writings touched with telling truth)

Page 53: Was 'Shakesspeare' (Jonson wrote for the First Folio edition ofShakespeareprinted in 1623)

Page 53: Was 'B. I.' (B. J.)

Page 53: Added single quotes (Shakespeare's talk in "At the'Mermaid'" grows out of the supposition)

Page 69: Was 'Shakepeare's' (He thinks the opening Sonnets are to the Earl of Southampton, known to beShakespeare'spatron)

Page 81: Added comma after Strafford (not Pym, the leader of the people, butStrafford,the supporter of the King.)

Page 85: Added end quote (some half-dozen years of immunity to the 'fretted tenement' of Strafford's 'fierysoul')

Page 91: Capitalized King (TheKing, upon his visit to Scotland, had been shocked)

Page 100: Was 'Finnees' (Hampden, Hollis, theyoungerVane, Rudyard,Fiennesand many of the Presbyterian Party)

Page 136: Removed extra start quote ("Be my friendOffriends!"—My King! I would have....)

Page 137: Was 'brillance' (The else imperialbrillianceof your mind)

Page 137: Was 'you way' (If Pym is busy,—you maywrite of Pym.)

Page 140: Capitalized King (theKing, therefore, summoned it to meet on the third of November.)

Page 142: Matching the original: leaving it hyphenated (the greatest in England would have stooddis-covered.')

Page 172: Was 'Partiot' (ThePatriotPym, or the Apostate Strafford!)

Page 174: Was 'perfers' (The Kingprefersto leave the door ajar)

Page 178: Was 'her's' (I amhersnow, and I will die.)

Page 193: Was 'Bethrothal' (Till death us do join past parting—that sounds likeBetrothalindeed!)

Page 200: Was 'canonade' (Such a castle seldom crumbles by sheer stress ofcannonade: 'Tis when foes are foiled and fighting's finished that vile rains invade)

Page 203: Inserted stanza (DownI sat to cards, one evening)

Page 203: Added starting quote ("Whenhe found his voice, he stammered 'That expression once again!')

Page 204: Added starting quote ('Endit! no time like the present!)

Page 224: Changed comma to period (the morning's lessons conned with thetutor.There, too, it was that he impressed on the lad those maxims)

Page 236: Added end quote (Why, he makes sure of her—"do you say,yes"— "She'll not say, no,"—what comes it to beside?)

Page 265: Added stanza ("'I'vebeen about those laces we need for ... never mind!)

Page 266: Keeping original spelling (Withdrerimentabout, within may life be found)

Page 267: Added stanza ("'Wickeddear Husband, first despair and then rejoice!)

Page 276: Was 'checks' (The dryness of "Aristotle'scheeks" is as usual so enlivened by Browning that the fate of Halbert and Hob grows)

Page 289: Added starting quote ("Youwrong your poor disciple.)

Page 290: Removed end quote (Wish I could take you; but fame travelsfast)

Page 291: Was 'aud' (Auntandniece, you and me.)

Page 294: Was 'oustide' (Suchoutside! Now,—confound me for a prig!)

Page 299: Changed singe quote to double ("Notyou! But I see.)

Page 315: Was 'Descretion' (To live and die together—for a month,Discretioncan award no more!)

Page 329: Removed starting quote ("He may believe; and yet, and yetHowcan he?" All eyes turn with interest.)

Page 344: Left in ending quote with unknown start (High Church, and the Evangelicals, or LowChurch.")

Page 370: Changed period to comma (Judgment drops her damningplummet,Pronouncing such a fatal space)

Page 421: Removed starting quote (Aboutthe year 1676, the corporation of Newcastle contributed)

Page 429: Added period (whose little book and large tune had led him the long way fromto-day.")

Page 437: Was 'irreverant' (gives that up as anirreverentinnovation.)

Page 440: Added beginning quote ("Whenwe attained them!)

Page 445: Added comma (we have as Browning says in a poem alreadyquoted,"Bernard de Mandeville,")

Back to Index Next