A Popular History of the Art of Music From the Earliest Times Until the Present — Reading Companion

Condensing a Vast Subject

Mathews's preface confronts the challenge of scale head-on. He lists the standard histories—Fétis, Ambros, Naumann, Burney, Hawkins—and notes that his volume is a fraction of their size. His solution is the book-opening chapter, a device he says gives a fairly complete account when read in sequence. The table of contents reveals sixteen books, from ancient times to the present (1891). The compression is evident in the Haydn excerpt: a single paragraph covers his appointment, the Esterhazy establishment, his output of 175 symphonies, and the evolution of the string quartet. Mathews does not pause to cite sources for specific claims, such as Haydn's role in inventing the second theme. The pace is swift, and the reader must trust the author's synthesis.

Biography as a Vehicle for Formal Analysis

The Haydn section weaves life story with technical commentary. Mathews notes that Haydn began as a violinist and singer, and that his orchestral symphonies were for strings with occasional brass and woodwind. He then asserts that the constant study of the violin led to the string quartet form. The analysis is embedded in the biography: Haydn's remote location forced him to draw on his own resources, producing works in every style. Mathews credits him with the cantabile slow movement and the elaboration, but does not compare Haydn's practice with earlier composers like C. P. E. Bach. The tone is confident, and the claims are presented as settled fact. Readers familiar with later scholarship may note that the attribution of sonata-form innovations to Haydn alone is debated.

The Voice of the Author-Educator

Mathews writes as a lecturer. He addresses the reader directly in the preface, explaining his method. The Haydn passage uses phrases like 'it was a saying of his' and 'from this standpoint it is impossible to deny Haydn the credit.' The authorial voice is present, shaping the narrative. Mathews also includes charts of greatest composers and illustrations, as listed in the front matter. The prose is efficient, avoiding digression. The Haydn excerpt covers his entire career in a few paragraphs, moving from appointment to death without dwelling on any single work. The effect is a streamlined account that prioritizes the arc of development over texture. This voice—authoritative, compressed, pedagogical—defines the book's character.

Mathews's history rewards readers who attend to his book-opening chapters and his biographical sketches. The Haydn section exemplifies his method: brisk biography, confident formal claims, and a narrative that moves steadily forward. Readers should note that the book was published in 1891 and reflects the scholarship of its time. Comparing Mathews's assertions with modern histories can illuminate how the story of music has been retold. The volume is best approached as a document of late-nineteenth-century musicology, a single-author synthesis that aimed to make the entire history accessible in one readable book.

That rainy afternoon, I kept returning to the Haydn chapter, noticing how Mathews framed sonata form as a tidy narrative—something simpler than the music itself. My pencil drifted to the margins, then to the shelf, where The art of music, Vol. 05 (of 14) — Reading Notes waited, its looser prose feeling like a friend’s second thought on the same old story.