"aim to make sacred music popular;"[54] and may we not further say that the Cardinal, without any parade whatever, but in the simplest fashion, has somehow succeeded at Birmingham in his aim?

The Birmingham Oratory Book, with the tunes, only privately printed for local use, came, nevertheless, as a surprise to Messrs. Burns and Westlake, who made merry over the occasional simplicity, not to say meagreness of the harmonies. A quick movement, too, from a Beethoven Rasoumousky quartet, is rather awkward, albeit taken slow, for No. 74, "Death," and Leporello's song for Nos. 22 and 23, is possibly not over suitable, however intrinsically appropriate, looking to the associations it might arouse, not so much, however, among the poor, who cannot afford to patronize opera, as among the rich. "Just look at the harmony," says one of No. 51; and of the famous No. 61, "there is a strange want of unity, the first part has no second harmony." A noble lord, too, disapproved of No. 51, the notes being, said he, all over the key-board, but such are the strains of some of the best music in the world, and the notice to this anonymous collection is almost an answer to particular criticism, as Burns felt at once, i.e.: "Neither the following tunes themselves, nor the hymns to which they belong, have been brought together on any one principle of selection, or to fulfil any ideal of what such composition ought to be. Many of them have grown into use insensibly, without any one being directly responsible for them; the rest have been adapted as the most appropriate, under circumstances, to complete the set, and to answer the needs of our people."[55]

Like St. Philip, too, "he took the word music in its widest sense, and made use of both vocal and instrumental music, and of their blended harmony."[56] While we believe that he would have been the first to admit the beauty of large portions of the old chant, its incomparable hymns in the liturgy, the familiar accentus dear to every Catholic ear, for the Preface, the Pater noster, &c., the modes for Holy week, the tones for the Psalms of the Divine Office, &c., we question whether he could have made much of a mass of antiphons that seem to illustrate the sacred text, "All we like sheep have gone astray." "In Gregorian music," said a writer in 1890, speaking more positively than we are able to do, "Newman could see no beauty whatever—none, at any rate, in the usual antiphons and 'tones.' An exception must be made in favour of those familiar chants occurring in the Mass.... I recollect his telling me, after we had heard one of Cherubini's Masses admirably performed at a Birmingham Festival, that the music, though so beautiful, needed the interspersing of those quaint old chants to make it really devotional," but "I believe," writes a friend, "it is very difficult for one who has heard only Mozart and Beethoven, &c., in all his early years ever to get a liking for Gregorian tones. It used to drive Canon Oakeley wild when he heard his nephew, the present Sir H. Oakeley, play a fugue of Bach's even on the organ. The Cardinal, however, liked the modus peregrinus to the In exitu Israel (that was only natural), and I remember once he seemed quite put out because once we followed the Rubrics in Easter week (when the In exitu is used) by having all the Psalms to one tone. For a moment it seemed as if he would contradict himself in his strict rule of going by authority against what he liked, and would change the tones so as to have the peregrinus." He somewhere, however, calls Gregorian an "inchoate science." Could mediæval work, largely out of touch with the times, claim for itself a monopoly of existence to the exclusion of the modern? So loyal a son of Holy Church as Dr. Ward had let fall that a plain chant Gloria reminded him of "original sin." "And, if sometimes," writes a friend of old Oratory days, "we were so unfortunate as to have on some week-day festival of our Lady, only the Gregorian Mass, Father Darnell used to say we were 'burying our Lady,' and though he would make no remark, I have little doubt the Father thought so too." Perhaps, then, Cardinal Newman's love for vocal and instrumental ecclesiastical music in combination (especially at Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost) was a true instinct recognizing the undoubted needs of another day, and is best labelled for a motto with some verses of the 149th and 150th Psalms, which we recommend to the attention of a few purists in case they may have forgotten them? Thus, acknowledging in January, 1859, the Gothic to be "the most beautiful of architectural styles," he "cannot approve of the intolerance of some of its admirers," and he would "claim the liberty of preferring, for the purposes of worship and devotion, a description of building which, though not so beautiful in outline, is more in accordance with the ritual of the present day, which is more cheerful in its exterior, and which admits more naturally of rich materials, of large pictures or mosaics, and of mural decorations."[57]

"My quarrel with Gothic and Gregorian when coupled together," says Campbell, in Loss and Gain, "is that they are two ideas not one. Have figured music in Gothic churches, keep your Gregorian for Basilicas." Bateman: "... You seem oblivious that Gregorian chants and hymns have always accompanied Gothic aisles, Gothic copes, Gothic mitres, and Gothic chalices." Campbell: "Our ancestors did what they could, they were great in architecture, small in music. They could not use what was not yet invented. They sang Gregorian because they had not Palestrina." Bateman: "A paradox, a paradox." Campbell: "Surely there is a close connection between the rise and nature of the Basilica and of Gregorian unison. Both existed before Christianity, both are of Pagan origin; both were afterwards consecrated to the service of the Church." Bateman: "Pardon me, Gregorians were Jewish, not Pagan." Campbell: "Be it so, for argument sake, still, at least, they were not of Christian origin.[58] Next, both the old music and the old architecture were inartificial and limited, as methods of exhibiting their respective arts. You can't have a large Grecian temple, you can't have a long Gregorian Gloria." Bateman: "Not a long one, why there's poor Willis used to complain how tedious the old Gregorian compositions were abroad." Campbell: "... Of course you may produce them to any length, but merely by addition, not by carrying on the melody. You can put two together, and then have one twice as long as either. But I speak of a musical piece, which must, of course, be the natural development of certain ideas, with one part depending on another. In like manner, you might make an Ionic temple twice as long or twice as wide as the Parthenon; but you would lose the beauty of proportion by doing so. This, then, is