The early history of harmonic experiment is still a matter of controversy; but whether it came from the Netherlands, from England or from Scandinavia, it undoubtedly originated in the North of Europe, and for several generations the chief focus of musical development was centred in Flanders. This geographical factor has its significance. Melodic music is individualistic, harmony is co-operative. When two voices sing different notes simultaneously in a piece of music, they are obliged to show a certain consideration for one another. In the first place they must not try to shout each other down. Secondly, they must agree to accept some common system of rhythm and pace, if there is to be ordered principle of consonance between them. And if their music is to be pleasing in its general effect, they must accommodate their voices one to the other so that they blend agreeably. Each of these points involves a certain self-sacrifice and subordination of the individual to the community which is fundamentally irksome to the Mediterranean temperament. The distinction between composer and performer becomes sharper than ever. The history of musical composition from the time of _Sumer is icumen in_ (1260) to that of Josquin des Prés (c. 1445–1521) shows the persistent effort of musicians to curb the recalcitrant independence of the individual parts in the interests of harmony and order. The writing down of music no doubt helped considerably towards this. The tradition of extemporary singing, even in harmony, was kept up for a very long time, but it is obvious that awkwardnesses which might be overlooked at a single _impromptu_ performance would be submitted to criticism and correction when they had been set down on paper. The Netherland school of the fifteenth century devoted much study to intricate technical devices, and we see here the most conspicuous example in early times of music in which emotion is completely sacrificed to mechanical ingenuity. It need hardly be said that this elaborate art was employed exclusively in the service of the Church. The extreme examples of it can hardly have afforded any listener the opportunity of enjoying the sensuous pleasure of sound, either in single voices or in the combinations of its harmony. Nor can we imagine that it was a type of music which evoked associative images. A product of the intellect it certainly was; but Apollo must have been as little responsible for its inspiration as Dionysus. It was discipline; and at any rate its poverty of melodic invention, its passionless indifference to sensuous beauty and its rigid obedience to rule may have represented the three monastic virtues. VI