consequent apprehension of its possible danger to morals. Evidently, too, the associational appeal of music was then already recognized and deliberately exploited by composers, though here it is difficult to separate clearly musical from purely rhythmical and poetical associations. The Romans seem to have regarded music merely as an amusement. There are plenty of people in all countries to-day, even in Germany itself, who take the Roman view of music. It does not necessarily preclude the view of music as an art by those who practise it for the mere amusement of others, although it tends to lower standards because it inevitably encourages commercialism. Among the early Christians we at once perceive a return to the fear of music as a dangerous thing. It could only be tolerated as the “handmaid of the Church”; but though that doctrine is still being preached, musicians have rebelled more and more resolutely against the acceptance of the ancillary position. St. Augustine’s famous description of the effect that music had on him shows how apprehensive he was lest music should become a more potent influence than dogma. Others, less sensitively susceptible to the voice of music than Augustine, speak of it as a thing purely subservient. The most illuminating phrase is that of St. Basil who compares the use of music in association with doctrine to the physician’s use of honey to disguise the unpleasant taste of his medicines. Yet it is clear that during the first thousand years of the Christian era there was developed in the shadow of the Church an art of music which was highly sophisticated and self-conscious. The ecclesiastical view of music had at least this to be said for it, that it caused music to be written down. It had for ritual reasons to be definitely fixed in an authoritative record, whereas the music of the profane world, composed for the delight of the moment, was not recorded and has therefore been lost for ever. V