WHAT THE ROMAN LADY SAID.
"You may always be successful if you do but set out well, and let
good thoughts and practice proceed upon right method."--_Marcus
Aurelius._[55]
The same wise Roman emperor who said this tells us a very pretty thing
about his mother, which shows us what a wise lady she must have been,
and how in the days of his manhood, with the cares of a great nation
upon him, he yet pondered upon the childhood teaching of home. First,
he speaks of his grandfather Verus, who, by his example, taught him
not to be prone to anger; then of his father, the Emperor Antoninus
Pius, from whom he learned to be modest and manly; then of his mother,
whose name was Domitia Calvilla. Let us read some of his own words
about her, dwelling particularly upon a few of them. He writes: "As
for my mother, she taught me to have regard for religion, to be
generous and open-handed, and not only to forbear from doing anybody
an ill turn, _but not so much as to endure the thought of it_."
Now these words are the more wonderful when we remember that they were
not taken down by a scribe in the pleasant apartments of the royal
palace in Rome, but were written by the Emperor himself on the
battlefield; for this part of his famous book is signed: "Written in
the country of the Quadi."
In our last Talk on the Hands we came to the conclusion, that unless
the hands were commanded they could not act. And on inquiring as to
what gave these commands we found it was the thoughts. Many people
believe it is perfectly safe to think anything, to have even evil
thoughts in their hearts, for thoughts being hidden, they say, cannot
be seen by others. But a strange thing about thought is this: The
moment we have a thought, good or bad, it strives to get out of us and
become an action. And it most always succeeds. Not at once, perhaps,
for thoughts like seeds will often slumber a long time before they
spring into life. So it becomes very clear to us that if we wish to be
on the alert we must not watch our actions, but look within and guard
the thoughts; for they are the springs of action.
You now see, I am sure, how wise the Emperor's mother was in teaching
her boy not even to _endure_ a thought to do evil unto others. For the
thought would get stronger and stronger, and suddenly become an
action. Certainly; and hence the first thing to learn in this Talk is
just these words:
Thoughts become actions.
That is an important thing. In a short time you will see, that if you
do not learn it you can never enjoy music, nor beautiful things, nor
the days themselves. Let us see how this will come about.
I have told your teacher[56] the name of the book which was written by
the Roman lady's boy. Well, in that book, running through it like a
golden thread, is this bit of teaching from his mother.
Not only did he think of it and write it on the battlefield, but at
all times there seemed to come to him more and more wisdom from it.
And he tells us this same thought over and over again in different
words. Sometimes it leads him to say very droll things; for instance:
"Have you any sense in your head? Yes. Why do you not make use of it
then? For if this does its part, for what more can you wish?"[57]
Then, a very good thought which we frequently hear:
"Your manners will very much depend upon what you frequently
think."[58] There are many others, but these show us that the meaning
of his mother's words went deep, teaching that not action must be
guarded but the thought which gives rise to action. Now, what can be
the value of speaking about the Roman lady? Let us see.
In music, the tones are made either by the hands or by the voice. And
to make a tone is to _do_ something. This doing something is an
action, and action comes from thought. No music, then, can be made
unless it be made by thinking. And the right playing of good music
must come from the right thinking of good thoughts. It may be that you
will hear some one say that to think good thoughts is not needed in
making good music. Never believe it! Bad thought never made anything
good, and _never_ will because it never can. In the very first days
you must learn, that good things of all kinds come from good thoughts,
because they can come from nothing else.
Here, then, is the second truth of this Talk:
Good music being the fruit of good thought can be played rightly only
by one who thinks good thoughts.
This leads us to another matter. First, let us see if everything is
clear. True music is written out of good thought; hence, when we begin
to study music we are really becoming pupils of good thought. We are
learning the thoughts good men have had, trying to feel their truth
and meaning, and from them learning to have our own thoughts not only
good but constantly better and better. This now seems simple and
necessary. We see that if we would faithfully study a composer's work
it must be our principal aim to get into his heart. Then everything
will be clear to us.
But we can never find our way to the heart of another until we have
first found our way somewhere else. Where, do you think? To our own
hearts, being willing to be severe with ourselves; not to be deceitful
in our own eyes; not to guard the outer act, but the inner thought;
not to study nor to be what _seems_, but what _is_.[59] This may seem
a long and roundabout way of learning to play music, but it is the
honest, straightforward way of going to the great masters whom we wish
to know.
In one of the books of the Greek general, Xenophon,[60] Socrates is
made to say that men do nothing without fire; and quite in the same
way we may learn nothing of each other, especially of those greater
than ourselves, without thought; which should be pure, strong,
inquiring, and kind. With this we may do all.
Thus far we have two principles. Let us review them:
I. Thoughts become actions.
II. Good music being the fruit of good thought can be played rightly
only by one who thinks good thoughts.
Now, is it not clear that this can come about only when we watch over
our own thoughts and govern them as if they were the thoughts of
others? And when we do not so much as _endure_ the thought of harm or
evil or wrong we shall be living in the spirit of the Roman lady whose
son's life was lived as his mother taught.