The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1892-12-23
CHRISTMAS MUSIC.
VAST SUNS SPENT ON THE CAROL
ING PROFESSIONS LONG AGO.

m italy the Calnbrian Shepherds Como
Down from the Mountains to Greet tho
Chiid Jesus with Soft. Sweet Notes.
Queer Music of the Puritans.
To review even briefly the wonderful
Christmas singing and playing in the
Thirteenth, Fourteenth and Fifteenth
centuries is beyond our limits; yet what
scenes. splendid, romantic and glowing
with life, form and color, mention of
those old pageants can summon upl Ac-
count books of the day, preserved in the
British museum. show what vast sums
we're spent upon them, Cheapside.
Tower hill, Southwark, even forlorn
md fallen Whitechapel, were scenes Of
such festivities. They wake to life as
we read of the caroling professions of
the olden time; yet, as may well be i'm
agined, such redundant doings led to
sxcesses, and then authority had to step
in. Ministers and priests forbade much
that had been customary, while with the
puritans came an absolute law against
even the singing of carols.
Queer droning music, tuneless and de-
pressing, was that of Cromwell's choice;
yet here and there, in the homes of the
better classes, voices were not to be
silenced. Had they not the precedent of
the angels? As Jeremy Taylor says of
that first Christmas music, "As soon as
those blessed choristers had sung their
Christmas carol, and taught the church
ahymn to put into her offices forever on
the anniversary of this festivity, the
angels returned to heaven;" their earthly
message sung for all a waking Christian
world. Meantime in other lands the
people had caught up the song of the ma
tivity.
In Italy the music of Christmas day
for centuries was famous, the Sistine
chapel being historic for its work of
praise that great day, and from the
sweep of the "Benedictus" and "Magnif-
icat" we reach the sweet soft notes Of
those Calabrian shepherds, called Pif-
ferari, who come down from the noun
tsins to sing Christmas hymns from
place to place, visiting chiefly stables,
where they have tradition the Child
Jesus has passed by.
To dictate precisely what should and
what should not constitute good Christ
mas singing is not possible, but of course
there are, as in every branch of the di-
vine art, certain guiding rules, the first
one being that all music appropriate for
the day should be joyous and expressive
Of thanks to God, while there are solemn
parts of every service of such thanks
giving, of course, as with every deep JOY
is the stiffness" in heart and voice and
utterance. No home but should have its
own festival of rejoicing, and let those
who seek for home harmonies search
only the novels or carols of France, or the
hymns Of those English writers who had
vast cathedral aisles to fill, yet contrived
to preserve an exquisite simplicity in all
their work.
We need to preserve every Christian
tradition dearly. If the yule log cannot
be lighted, yet from year to year we can
surely keep fire of good will and cheer.
and rekindle the old fame, as they who
have the yule are wont to do. In the
old times, after the Christmas dinner
had been enjoyed, the loving cup was
passed around, doors at one end of the
long hall were thrown open, and there
entered company of perhaps fifty per-
sons-guests of the host, humble men
and women and children, invited from
far and wide. After word of welcome
all arose, and as with one voice sang
that most perfect of old Christmas
hymns, "With Hearts Truly Grateful"
Centuries ago other carols were sung
there, and, as now, a feast provided for
one and all, while the question of rank
was for that day forgotten. Later, i'll
the orchards, the songs of the season
were sung-a tradition prevailing that
this insures good crop for all during
the coming year.
Our theme is endless, yet it is EN-
bodied in one dominant idea. Whether
the notes of a great organ fill cathedral.
whether the humblest little band Of
'waifs" 80 from door to door, there
should be one thought uppermost-we
sing the message of the angels, we praise
God, and our hearts should remember
that peace On earth is the glory of the
day.--Lucy G. Lille in Harpers Bazar