of some 600 tunes, which when it is opened fills the
sensitive worshipper with dismay, so that there are persons who would
rather not go inside a church than subject themselves to the trial.

What is the matter? What is it that is wrong with our hymnody? Even where
there is not such rooted disgust as I have implied, there is a growing
conviction that some reform is needed in words or music, or both.

Assuming that the chief blame lies with the music (as, I think, might
easily be proved), I propose to discuss the question of the music of our
hymnody, and I shall proceed on the basis of St. Augustin's principles: I
am sure that they would be endorsed by any pious church-goer who had
considered the subject, and they may be fairly formulated thus, _The
music must express the words or sense: it should not attract too much
attention to itself: it should be dignified: and its reason and use is to
heighten religious emotion._

One point calls for distinction: Augustin speaks of his emotion on
_hearing_ the hymns and canticles; he writes as if he had had no more
thought of taking part in the music himself, than we have of joining in
the anthem at a cathedral; and this might lead to a misunderstanding; for
there is no doubt that these hymns were sung by the people: the story is
that the very soldiers who were sent to blockade the basilica, happening
to be themselves catholics, joined their voices in the stanzas which St.
Ambrose had specially composed to disconcert the Arian enemy.

The ecstasy of listening to music, and the enthusiasm of a crowd who are
all singing or shouting the same hymn or song are emotions of quite
different nature and value. Now, neglecting the rare conditions under
which these emotions may be combined, we shall, as we are speaking of
hymns, be concerned chiefly with the latter kind, for all will agree that
hymns are that part of the Church music in which it is most desirable
that the congregation should join: and I believe that there would be less
difference in practice if it were at all easy to obtain good
congregational singing, or even anything that is worthy of the name. It
seems perhaps a pity that nature should have arranged that where the
people are musical (as Augustin appears to have been) they would rather
listen, and where they are unmusical they would all rather sing.

Speaking therefore of congregational hymn-singing, and conceding, as I
think we must, that the essential use of such music