As to the hackneyed doctrine that derives the origin of music from the
outward sounds of nature, none but poets could have conceived it, or
lovers be justified in repeating it. Granting even that the singing of
birds, the rippling of brooks, the murmuring of winds, might have
suggested some idea, in the gradual development of the art, all
history, as well as the evidence of common sense, proves that they
gave no help whatever at the commencement. The savage has never been
inspired by them; his music, when he has any, is a mere noise, not
deducible by any stretch of the imagination from such sounds of
nature. The national melodies of various countries give no evidence of
any influence from without. A collection of native airs from different
parts of the world will help us to no theory as to whether they have
been composed in valleys or on plains, by resounding sea-shores or by
roaring waterfalls. There is nothing in the music itself which tells
of the natural sounds most common in the desolate steppes of Russia,
the woody sierras of Spain, or the rocky glens of Scotland. What
analogy there exists is solely with the inward character of the people
themselves, and that too profound to be theorised upon. If we search
the works of the earliest composers, we find not the slightest
evidence of their having been inspired by any outward agencies. Not
till the art stood upon its own independent foundations does it appear
that any musicians ever thought of turning such natural sounds to
account; and--though with Beethoven's exquisite Pastoral Symphony
ringing in our ears, with its plaintive clarionet cuckoo to contradict
our words--we should say that no compositions could be of a high class
in which such sounds were conspicuous.--_Murray's Reading for the
Rail._