of the work. The general judgment of musicians agrees that repose and
enjoyment are more characteristic of this music than that of any
other master. The choir of the Sistine chapel, by the inheritance of
long-cherished tradition, is the most perfect exponent of the
Palestrina music. During the annual performance of the "Improperie" and
"Lamentations," the altar and walls are despoiled of their pictures and
ornaments, and everything is draped in black. The cardinals dressed in
serge, no incense, no candles: the whole scene is a striking picture of
trouble and desolation. The faithful come in two by two and bow before
the cross, while the sad music reverberates through the chapel arches.
This powerful appeal to the imagination, of course, lends greater power
to the musical effect. But all minds who have felt the lift and beauty
of these compositions have acknowledged how far they soar above words
and creeds, and the picturesque framework of a liturgy.

Mendelssohn, in a letter to Zelter on the Palestrina music as heard in
the Sistine chapel, says that nothing could exceed the effect of the
blending of the voices, the prolonged tones gradually merging from one
note and chord to another, softly swelling, decreasing, at last dying
out. "They understand," he writes, "how to bring out and place each
trait in the most delicate light, without giving it undue prominence;
one chord gently melts into another. The ceremony at the same time is
solemn and imposing; deep silence prevails in the chapel, only broken
by the reechoing Greek 'holy,' sung with unvarying sweetness and
expression." The composer Paër was so impressed with the wonderful
beauty of the music and the performance, that he exclaimed, "This is
indeed divine music, such as I have long sought for, and my imagination
was never able to realize, but which, I knew, must exist."

Palestrina's versatility and genius enabled him to lift ecclesiastical