MUSIC AND PAINTING--JACK OF DOVER
(Greek passage)
Anacreon.
I love not him, who o'er the wine-cup's flow
Talks but of war, and strife, and scenes of woe:
But him who can the Muses' gifts employ,
To mingle love and song with festal joy.
The dinner and dessert passed away. The ladies retired to the
drawing-room: the gentlemen discoursed over their wine. Mr.
MacBorrowdale pronounced a eulogium on the port, which was cordially
echoed by the divine in regard to the claret.
_Mr. Falconer._ Doctor, your tastes and sympathies are very much with
the Greeks; but I doubt if you would have liked their wine. Condiments
of sea-water and turpentine must have given it an odd flavour; and
mixing water with it, in the proportion of three to one, must have
reduced the strength of merely fermented liquor to something like the
smallest ale of Christophero Sly.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ I must say I should not like to put either
salt water or turpentine into this claret: they would not improve its
bouquet; nor to dilute it with any portion of water: it has to my mind,
as it is, just the strength it ought to have, and no more. But the Greek
taste was so exquisite in all matters in which we can bring it to the
test, as to justify a strong presumption that in matters in which we
cannot test it, it was equally correct. Salt water and turpentine do not
suit our wine: it does not follow that theirs had not in it some basis
of contrast, which may have made them pleasant in combination. And it
was only a few of their wines that were so treated.
Lord Curryfin. Then it could not have been much like their drink of the
present day. 'My master cannot be right in his mind,' said Lord Byron's
man Fletcher, 'or he would not have left Italy, where we had everything,
to go to a country of savages; there is nothing to eat in Greece but
tough billy-goats, or to drink but spirits of turpentine.'{1}
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ There is an ambiguous present, which somewhat
perplexes me, in an epigram of Rhianus, 'Here is a vessel of half-wine,
half-turpentine, and a singularly lean specimen of kid: the sender,
Hippocrates, is worthy of all praise.'{2} Perhaps this was a doctor's
present to a patient. Alcaeus, Anacreon, and Nonnus could not have sung
as they did under the inspiration of spirit of turpentine. We learn from
Athenseus, and Pliny, and the old comedians, that the Greeks had a vast
variety of wine, enough to suit every variety of taste. I infer the
unknown from the known. We know little of their music. I have no doubt
it was as excellent in its kind as their sculpture.
1 Trelawny's Recollections.
2 (Greek passage)
Anthologia Palatina: Appendix: 72.
_Mr. Minim_. I can scarcely think that, sir. They seem to have had only
the minor key, and to have known no more of counterpoint than they did
of perspective.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ Their system of painting did not require
perspective. Their main subject was on one foreground. Buildings, rocks,
trees, served simply to indicate, not to delineate, the scene.
_Mr. Falconer._ I must demur to their having only the minor key.
The natural ascent of the voice is in the major key, and with their
exquisite sensibility to sound they could not have missed the obvious
expression of cheerfulness. With their three scales, diatonic,
chromatic, and enharmonic, they must have exhausted every possible
expression of feeling. Their scales were in true intervals; they had
really major and minor tones; we have neither, but a confusion of both.
They had both sharps and flats: we have neither, but a mere set of
semitones, which serve for both. In their enharmonic scale the fineness
of their ear perceived distinctions which are lost on the coarseness of
ours.
_Mr. Minim._ With all that they never got beyond melody. They had no
harmony, in our sense. They sang only in unisons and octaves.
_Mr. Falconer._ It is not clear that they did not sing in fifths. As to
harmony in one sense, I will not go so far as to say with Ritson that
the only use of the harmony is to spoil the melody; but I will say,
that to my taste a simple accompaniment, in strict subordination to the
melody, is far more agreeable than that Niagara of sound under which it
is now the fashion to bury it.
_Mr. Minim._ In that case, you would prefer a song with a simple
pianoforte accompaniment to the same song on the Italian stage.
_Mr. Falconer._ A song sung with feeling and expression is good, however
accompanied. Otherwise, the pianoforte is not much to my mind. All its
intervals are false, and temperament is a poor substitute for natural
intonation. Then its incapability of sustaining a note has led, as the
only means of producing effect, to those infinitesimal subdivisions of
sound, in which all sentiment and expression are twittered and frittered
into nothingness.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ I quite agree with you. The other day a band
passed my gate playing 'The Campbells are coming'; but instead of the
fine old Scotch lilt, and the emphasis on 'Oho! oho!' what they actually
played was, 'The Ca-a-a-a-ampbells are co-o-o-o-ming, Oh-o-ho-o-o!
Oh-o-ho-o-o'; I thought to myself, There is the essence and quintessence
of modern music. I like the old organ-music such as it was, when there
were no keys but C and F, and every note responded to a syllable.
The effect of the prolonged and sustained sound must have been truly
magnificent:
'Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault,
The pealing anthem swelled the note of praise.'
Who cares to hear sacred music on a piano?
_Mr. Minim._ Yet I must say that there is a great charm in that
brilliancy of execution which is an exclusively modern and very modern
accomplishment
_Mr. Falconer._ To those who perceive it. All things are as they are
perceived. To me music has no charm without expression.
_Lord Curryfin._ (_who, having observed Mr. MacBorrowdale's
determination not to be drawn into an argument, amused himself with
asking his opinion on all subjects_). What is your opinion, Mr.
MacBorrowdale?
_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ I hold to the opinion I have already expressed,
that this is as good a glass of port as ever I tasted.
_Lord Curryfin._ I mean your opinion of modern music and musical
instruments.
_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ The organ is very good for psalms, which I never
sing, and the pianoforte for jigs, which I never dance. And if I
were not to hear either of them from January to December, I should not
complain of the privation.
_Lord Curryfin._ You are an utilitarian, Mr. MacBorrowdale. You are all
for utility--public utility--and you see none in music.
_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ Nay, not exactly so. If devotion is good, if
cheerfulness is good, and if music promotes each of them in proper time
and place, music is useful. If I am as devout without the organ, and as
cheerful without the piano, as I ever should be with them, that may
be the defect of my head or my ear. I am not for forcing my tastes or
no-tastes on other people. Let every man enjoy himself in his own
way, while he does not annoy others. I would not deprive you of your
enjoyment of a brilliant symphony, and I hope you would not deprive me
of my enjoyment of a glass of old wine.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian_:
'Très mihi convivae prope dissentire videntur,
Poscentes vario multum diversa palate'{1}
1 Three guests dissent most widely in their wishes:
With different taste they call for different dishes.
_Mr. Falconer._ Nor our reverend friend of the pleasure of a classical
quotation.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ And the utility, too, sir: for I think I am
indebted to one for the pleasure of your acquaintance.
_Mr. Falconer._ When you did me the honour to compare my house to the
Palace of Circe. The gain was mine.
_Mr. Pallet._ You admit, sir, that the Greeks had no knowledge of
perspective.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ Observing that they had no need of it. Their
subject was a foreground like a relievo. Their background was a symbol,
not a representation. 'No knowledge' is perhaps too strong. They had
it where it was essential. They drew a peristyle, as it appeared to the
eye, as accurately as we can do. In short, they gave to each distinct
object its own proper perspective, but to separate objects they did not
give their relative perspective, for the reason I have given, that they
did not need it.
_Mr. Falconer._ There is to me one great charm in their painting, as
we may judge from the specimens in Pompeii, which, though not their
greatest works, indicate their school. They never crowded their canvas
with figures. They presented one, two, three, four, or at most five
persons, preferring one and rarely exceeding three. These persons were
never lost in the profusion of scenery, dress, and decoration. They had
clearly-defined outlines, and were agreeable objects from any part of
the room in which they were placed.
_Mr. Pallet._ They must have lost much in beauty of detail.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ Therein is the essential difference of ancient
and modern taste. Simple beauty--of idea in poetry, of sound in music,
of figure in painting--was their great characteristic. Ours is detail in
all these matters, overwhelming detail. We have not grand outlines for
the imagination of the spectator or hearer to fill up: his imagination
has no play of its own: it is overloaded with _minutio_ and
kaleidoscopical colours.
_Lord Curryfin_. Detail has its own beauty. I have admired a Dutch
picture of a butcher's shop, where all the charm was in detail.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ I cannot admire anything of the kind. I must
take pleasure in the thing represented before I can derive any from the
representation.
_Mr. Pallet._ I am afraid, sir, as our favourite studies all lead us to
extreme opinions, you think the Greek painting was the better for not
having perspective, and the Greek music for not having harmony.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ I think they had as much perspective and as much
harmony as was consistent with that simplicity which characterised their
painting and music as much as their poetry.
_Lord Curryfin._ What is your opinion, Mr. MacBorrowdale?
_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ I think you may just buz that bottle before you.
_Lord Curryfin._ I mean your opinion of Greek perspective?
_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ Troth, I am of opinion that a bottle looks smaller
at a distance than when it is close by, and I prefer it as a full-sized
object in the foreground.
_Lord Curryfin._ I have often wondered that a gentleman so well
qualified as you are to discuss all subjects should so carefully avoid
discussing any.
_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ After dinner, my lord, after dinner. I work hard
all the morning at serious things, sometimes till I get a headache,
which, however, does not often trouble me. After dinner I like to crack
my bottle and chirp and talk nonsense, and fit myself for the company of
Jack of Dover.
_Lord Curryfin._ Jack of Dover! Who was he?
_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ He was a man who travelled in search of a greater
fool than himself, and did not find him.{1}
1 _Jacke of Dover His Quest of Inquirie, or His Privy Search
for the Veriest Foole in England._ London, 1604. Reprinted
for the Percy Society, 1842.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ He must have lived in odd times. In our days
he would not have gone far without falling in with a teetotaller, or
a decimal coinage man, or a school-for-all man, or a competitive
examination man, who would not allow a drayman to lower a barrel into a
cellar unless he could expound the mathematical principles by which he
performed the operation.
_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ Nay, that is all pragmatical fooling. The fooling
Jack looked for was jovial fooling, fooling to the top of his bent,
excellent fooling, which, under the semblance of folly, was both merry
and wise. He did not look for mere unmixed folly, of which there never
was a deficiency. The fool he looked for was one which it takes a wise
man to make--a Shakespearian fool.{1}
1 OEuvre, ma foi, où n'est facile atteindre:
Pourtant qu'il faut parfaitement sage être,
Pour le vrai fol bien naïvement feindre.
EUTRAPEL, p. 28.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ In that sense he might travel far, and return,
as he did in his own day, without having found the fool he looked for.
_Mr. MacBorrowdale_. A teetotaller! Well! He is the true
Heautontimorumenos, the self-punisher, with a jug of toast-and-water
for his Christmas wassail. So far his folly is merely pitiable, but his
intolerance makes it offensive. He cannot enjoy his own tipple unless he
can deprive me of mine. A fox that has lost his tail. There is no tyrant
like a thoroughpaced reformer. I drink to his own reformation.
_Mr. Gryll._ He is like Bababec's faquir, who sat in a chair full of
nails, _pour avoir de la considération._ But the faquir did not want
others to do the same. He wanted all the consideration for himself, and
kept all the nails for himself. If these meddlers would do the like by
their toast-and-water, nobody would begrudge it them.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ Now, sir, if the man who has fooled the greatest
number of persons to the top of their bent were to be adjudged
the fittest companion for Jack of Dover, you would find him in a
distinguished meddler with everything who has been for half-a-century
the merry-andrew of a vast arena, which he calls moral and political
science, but which has in it a dash of everything that has ever occupied
human thought.
_Lord Curryfin._ I know whom you mean; but he is a great man in his way,
and has done much good.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ He has helped to introduce much change; whether
for good or for ill remains to be seen. I forgot he was your lordship's
friend. I apologise, and drink to his health.
_Lord Curryfin_. Oh! pray, do not apologise to me. I would not have
my friendships, tastes, pursuits, and predilections interfere in the
slightest degree with the fullest liberty of speech on all persons
and things. There are many who think with you that he is a moral and
political Jack of Dover. So be it. Time will bring him to his level.
_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ I will only say of the distinguished personage,
that Jack of Dover would not pair off with him. This is the true
universal science, the oracle of _La Dive Bouteille._
_Mr. Gryll._ It is not exactly Greek music, Mr. Minim, that you are
giving us for our Aristophanic choruses.
_Mr. Minim._ No, sir; I have endeavoured to give you a good selection,
as appropriate as I can make it.
_Mr. Pallet._ Neither am I giving you Greek painting for the scenery. I
have taken the liberty to introduce perspective.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ Very rightly both, for Aristophanes in London.
_Mr. Minim._ Besides, sir, we must have such music as your young ladies
can sing.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ Assuredly; and so far as we have yet heard them
rehearse, they sing it delightfully.
After a little more desultory conversation, they adjourned to the
drawing-rooms.