Palestrixa left a great mass of compositions, all glowing with the fire of genius, only part of which have been published.  His simple life was devoted to musical labor, and passed without romance, diversion, or excitement.  His works are marked by utter absence of contrast and color.  Without dramatic movement, they are full of melody and majesty, a majesty serene, unruffled by the slightest suggestion of human passion.  Voices are now and then used for individual expression, but either in unison or harmony.  As in all great church music, the chorus is the key 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 Paer 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 music out of the rigidity and frivolity characterizing on either hand the opposing ranks of those that preceded him, and to embody the religious spirit in works of the highest art.  He transposed the ecclesiastical melody (canto fermo) from the tenor to the soprano (thus rendering it more intelligible to the ear), and created that glorious thing choir song, with its refined harmony, that noble music of which his works are the models, and the papal chair the oracle.  No individual