, to write words for music is an easy task,
and hence the many wounds inflicted upon both music and poetry in their
frequent union. When a melody is to be composed for a set of verses, the
same melody to be sung to every verse, the composer naturally examines
the general tone and form of the poem. These of course determine his
selection of rhythmical character, of time, key, movement, etc. The
melody is constructed upon the basis of the first verse. To the words
embodying the most important thoughts or feelings, he gives the most
important, the emphatic notes, striving to make the sound a faithful and
intensifying medium whereby to convey the sense. _His_ work is then
done, as the same melody is to be repeated to every verse, and the end
sought will have been attained if the poet have carefully fulfilled
_his_ part. But if he have introduced inequalities into his rhythm, or
have given unimportant words the places occupied by important ones in
the first verse, so that an emphatic note will fall upon an 'in,' or a
'the,' or some similar particle, the effect will be bad, and the result
unsatisfactory to all concerned. Old association, or intrinsic beauty of
poetry or melody may, in rare cases, render such blemishes tolerable,
but the creator of a new work should strive to avoid all blemishes, and
at least _aim_ at perfection.

If to each good religious poem we possess, or may hereafter possess (be
that poem psalm, hymn, sequence, litany, prayer, or form of doctrine),
we could attach, or find attached, the musical form best adapted to its
highest expression, what delight would we not experience in its
rendering? Some such poems might, by reason of old associations, or of
especial adaptation, be always sung to the same melodies, while to
others might be accorded greater facilities for variety. This only by
way of suggestion. The common practice of selecting melodies for verses,
hap-hazard, with regard only to the 'metre,' of course destroys all
possibility of any especial characterization. If the original 'marriage'
have been a congenial one, a divorce, with view to a second union,
rarely proves advisable. The same verses may bear another musical
rendering, but the music will very rarely endure adaptation to other
verses.

But we left our _maestro di capella_, our head of the music in any
religious assemblage, weeding his repertory. A difficult task! for, to
sound principles of discrimination he must add the best counsel an