_That the Hearing of Musical Performances, is apt to soften Men too
much, and by that Means, to give them an effeminate Manner._
Whether this Error proceeds from the Idea of that Facility with which Music
is able to stir up a Variety of Passions in the Heart, annexed to the Idea
of that Disposition which appears to be stronger in Women than in Man, and
is called the Weakness of the Sex; or whether it proceeds from a Notion
that Pity and Sorrow, and the like, are Passions which are not worthy the
Breast of a Man, and are only fit for the timorous Constitution of Women,
it favours equally of Absurdity and Barbarity in both Cases.
For so far is Pity from denoting any Cowardice or Effeminacy, that it is a
certain Indication of a great Soul; we find it frequently mentioned among
the most conspicuous Virtues, with which the Heroes among the Ancients were
said to be endued. And with regard to the Passions, which are raised by
Music in the Heart it depends upon the Nicety of the Feelings in the Nerves
of the Hearer; and we cannot help observing, that Men of the greatest
Sensibility are generally Persons of the strictest Honour and the most
exalted Courage.
As for those who are so unfortunate as not to be formed by Nature for the
Reception of harmonious Sounds, we do not entirely give them up: But we
refer the Reader to a Passage, which he will find in the Merchant of
Venice, and which, tho' the Observation may hold good in some Cases, yet,
we must beg to be excused inserting the Words here, as we think the Remark
is rather too severe and too general, and was introduced by the Poet
chiefly with an Intent to set his malicious Jew off in the most odious
Light, who had been declaring, that he detested the vile Squeaking of the
Wry-neck'd Fife, and ordered his [1]Windows to be shut up, that the Sound
of them might not be heard in his House. And if the old Poet is a little
severe in this Place, he does it principally with an Intention to divest
the Audience of any Compassion, which might otherwise be stirred up in
their Minds by the Misfortunes which will attend Shylock in the following
Scenes; and by that Means the Plot turns out according to the Wish of the
Spectators. This is one of those Preparations of the ensuing Scene for
which Shakespeare is so notorious, and which may be observed in all his
Plays. But to return to our Subject; it seems that those People who have
Organs for the Reception of Musical Sounds, are affected with such Passions
as the Composer of good Music intends to excite in them. And we believe
that the Constitution of a Hearer may be moulded and formed into various
Shapes by the different Airs which he hears; and moreover, if a Person was
always to be accustomed to soft, effeminate Music, we agree that it might
render his Constitution effeminate likewise; but as there are such great
Variety of different Movements, which are adapted to different Songs, all
which raise different Passions in the Mind, it is very absurd to tax all
Music in the Lump with Softness and Effeminacy.
Any one may perceive the Difference of these two Songs, both of which have
their Effect when they are well sung.
_Gently touch the warbling Lyre,_
_Cloe seems inclin'd to rest;_
_Fill her Soul with fond Desire,_
_Softest Notes will please her best._
These Words, which are sung to an Air of Geminiani's, cause a very
different Sensation, from these which follow, and are set to a suitable
Air:
_Come cheer up my Lads, 'tis to Glory we steer &c._
Whatever the first Song may do, this last is not likely to make any Body
effeminate. I mention these two common Songs, because they are what every
Reader is capable of digesting, and on that Account are more proper for the
Purpose than any of those Songs out of Operas, which are not generally
known.
But we beg Leave here to make a necessary Distinction between two Ideas,
which are sometimes confounded together, and which is apt to lead People
into this Error as much as any Thing.
It would be very proper in us, before we prejudice ourselves against any
Art or Science, to be quite clear in the Objections which we raise against
it; we should be certain that they are just, and founded upon good Grounds.
Some People are apt to confound the Idea of raising the softer Passions,
which have their Residence in our Nature, with the Idea of Effeminacy,
which, as I said before, are quite distinct. We have an Instance of the
Passion of Pity in the well known Picture of Bellisarius. The Hero, who
stands in the dejected Attitude, appears to be very much softened by the
Misfortunes and Distress to which he sees Bellisarius reduced; and yet no
one will say that he is an effeminate Fellow for it; on the contrary, it
will be allowed that he shews a Greatness of Soul; he is struck with a
contemplative Sorrow at the Misfortunes of a General, whose invincible
Courage and great Worth he himself had been Witness of. And Bravery in
Distress is not only the Subject of Painting, but it is the constant Theme
of Music: The Operas and Oratorios are full of it, and though the
Misfortunes of the Heroes which are the Subject of them do soften, yet it
is not such a Kind of Softness as to beget any Effeminacy, but of a
contrary Nature, and is such a Sensation as an ordinary Hearer will
perceive at the Beginning of this common Song, which is well enough in its
Way.
_How little do the Landmen know,_
_What we poor Sailors feel,_
_When Seas do roar, and Winds do blow;_
_But we have Hearts of Steel._
If we are to be moved by such a Song as this, what shall we feel at some of
the masterly Strokes of Handel in his Oratorio of Samson.
_Total Eclipse, no Sun, no Moon,_
_All dark, amidst the Blaze of Noon._
One would think, by the resigned Solemnity of this following Movement,
_Bring the Laurel, bring the Bays_, &c.
that he had been reading Milton's Paradise Lost as well as the Samson
Agonistes. This seems to be the very Music of the fallen Angels, where he
says, they made Use of soft Airs, which inspired true Heroic Bravery, and
which he prefers to the noisy, as it was the Cause of a lasting, fixed, and
reserved Courage. Milton says, that as soon as the Colours were displayed,
they marched to the Sound of Flutes and soft Recorders:
"_Anon they move_
_In perfect Phalanx, to the Dorian Mood_
_Of Flutes and soft Recorders; such as rais'd_
_To Height of noblest Temper Heroes old_
_Arming to battle, and instead of Rage_
_Deliberate Valour breath'd firm and unmov'd_
_With Dread of Death to Flight and foul Retreat._"
In short, the March in Rinaldo might possibly make Soldiers seize hold of
their Arms and March, but it must be such an Air as that in the Overture of
Berenice which makes them face an Enemy.
* * * * *