t from having brought the first four authentic modes
into church music, he composed many hymns which had this
peculiarity, namely, that they were modelled more on the actual
declamation of the words to be sung than had hitherto been
the case. We are told that his chants--to use the phrase of
his contemporary, Francis of Cologne--were "all for sweetness
and melodious sound"; and St. Augustine (354-430 A.D.),
speaks of them with ecstasy. The words in these hymns were
used in connection with small groups of notes; consequently
they could be understood as they were sung, thus returning
in a measure to the character of the music of the ancients,
in which the word and declamation were of greater importance
than the actual sounds which accompanied them. But now a
strange thing was to happen that was to give us a new art.
Now, at last, music was to be separated from language and dance
rhythms, and stand alone for the first time in the history of
civilization as _pure music_.

To appreciate the change made by Gregory (540-604 A.D.), it is
necessary to bear in mind the state of the church just before
his time. As the Ambrosian chant had brought something of the
old declamation and sweetness back into the church ceremonial,
so also in the church itself there was a tendency to sink
back into the golden shimmer that had surrounded the ancient
pagan rites. Already Paul of Samosata, Bishop of Antioch (260
A.D.), had striven to bring a certain Oriental magnificence
into the church ceremonials. He had a canopied throne erected
for himself, from which he would address his congregation;
he introduced applause into the church, after the fashion of
the Roman theatres; he also had a chorus of women singers, who,
as Eusebius tells us, sang not the Christian hymns, but pagan
tunes. Later, in Constantinople, even this luxury and pomp
increased; the churches had domes of burnished gold, and had
become gigantic palaces, lit by thousands of lamps. The choir,
dressed in glittering robes, was placed in the middle of the
church, and these singers began to show the same fatal sign
of decadence that we saw before in Rome and Greece. According
to St. Chrysostom (347-407 A.D.), they used unguents on their
throats in order to make the voice flexible, for by this time
the singing had become a mere vehicle for virtuosity; when
they sang their _tours de force_, the people applauded and
waved their handkerchiefs, as they did also when the preaching
pleas