One of the most interesting of the many interesting stories of our
civilization is the story of Music. It affords an intimate knowledge of
the inner life of man as manifested in different epochs of the world's
history. He who has failed to follow it has failed to comprehend the
noblest phenomena of human progress.
Mythology and legendary lore abound in delightful traditions in regard
to the birth of music. The untutored philosophers of primitive humanity
and the learned philosophers of ancient civilizations alike strove to
solve the sweet, elusive mystery surrounding the art. Through the myths
and legends based on their speculations runs a suggestion of divine
origin.
The Egyptians of old saw in their sublime god, Osiris, and his ideal
spouse, Isis, the authors of music. Among the Hindus it was regarded as
a priceless gift from the great god Brahma, who was its creator and
whose peerless consort, Sarasvati, was its guardian. Poetic fancies in
these lines permeate the early literature of diverse peoples.
This is not surprising. Abundant testimony proves that the existence of
music is coeval with that of mankind; that it is based on the
modulations of the human voice and the agitations of the human muscles
and nerves caused by the infinite variations of the spiritual and
emotional sensations, needs and aspirations of humanity; that it has
grown with man's growth, developed with man's development, and that
its origin is as divine as that of man.
[Illustration: MOZART]
The inevitable dualism which Emerson found bisecting all nature appears
also in music, which is both spiritual and material. The spiritual part
of music appeals to the spiritual part of man, addressing each heart
according to the cravings and capacities of each. The material part of
music may be compared to the body in which man's spirit is housed. It is
the vehicle which conveys the message of music from soul to soul through
the medium of the human ear with its matchless harp of nerve-fibres and
its splendid sounding-board, the eardrum.
Music is the mirror which most perfectly reflects man's inner being and
the essence of all things. Ruskin saw clearly that he alone can love art
well who loves better what art mirrors. This may especially be applied
to music, which offers, as a Beethoven has said, a more lofty revelation
than all wisdom and philosophy.
Having no model in nature, being neither an imitation of any actual
object, nor a repetition of anything experienced, music stands alone
among the arts. It represents the real thing, as Schopenhauer has it,
the thing itself, not the mere semblance. Were we able to give a
thoroughly satisfactory explanation of music, he declares, we should
have the true philosophy of the universe.
"Music is a kind of inarticulate, unfathomable speech, which leads us to
the edge of the Infinite, and impels us for a moment to gaze into it,"
exclaimed Carlyle. Wagner found in music the conscious language of
feeling, that which ennobles the sensual and realizes the spiritual.
"Music is the harmonious voice of creation, an echo of the invisible
world, one note of the divine concord which the entire universe is
destined one day to sound," wrote Mazzini. Literature is rich in noble
definitions of the divine art.
From a matter of fact standpoint music consists of a vast concourse of
tones which are its raw materials and bear within themselves the
possibility of being moulded into form. Utterances and actions
illustrating these raw materials are common to all living creatures. A
dog, reiterating short barks of joy, or giving vent to prolonged howls
of distress, is actuated by an impulse similar to that of the human
infant as it uplifts its voice to express its small emotions. The sounds
uttered by primeval man as the direct expression of his emotions were
unquestionably of a like nature.
The tendency to manifest feeling by means of sound is universally
admitted, and sound, freighted with feeling, is peculiarly exciting to
human beings. The agitations of a mob may be increased by the emotional
tones of its prime movers, and we all know that the power of an orator
depends more on his skill in handling his voice than on what he says.
A craving for sympathy exists in all animate beings. It is strong in
mankind and becomes peculiarly intense in the type known as artistic.
The fulness of his own emotions compels the musician to utterance. To
strike a sympathetic chord in other sensitive breasts it becomes
necessary to devise forms of expression that may be unmistakably
intelligible.
Out of such elements the tone-language has grown, precisely as the
word-language grew out of men's early attempts to communicate facts to
one another. Its story records a slow, painstaking building up of
principles to control its raw materials; for music, as we understand it,
cannot exist without some kind of design. Vague sounds produce vague,
fleeting impressions. Definiteness in tonal relations and rhythmic plan
is requisite to produce a defined, enduring impression. In primitive
states of music rhythmic sounds were heard, defined by the pulses but
with little or no change of pitch, and sounds varying in pitch without
regularity of impulse. A high degree of intellectuality was reached
before our modern scales were evolved from long-continued attempts at
making well-balanced successions of sounds. As musical art advanced
rhythm and melodic expression became united.
The study of the origin, function and evolution of music, according to
modern scientific methods, is a matter of comparatively recent date. As
late as 1835 a French writer of the history of music expressed profound
regret that he had been unable to determine when music was invented, or
to discover the inventor's name. It was his opinion that musical man had
profited largely from the voices of the feathered tribes. He seriously
asserted that the duck had evidently furnished a model for the clarionet
and oboe, and Sir Chanticleer for the trumpet. An entire chapter of his
book he devoted to surmises concerning the "Music before the Flood." The
poor man felt himself superior to the poetic fancies of the ancients,
which at least foreshadowed the Truth, but had found no firm ground on
which to stand.
Much finer were the instincts of Capellmeister Wolfgang Kasper, Prince
of Waldthurn, whose historical treatise on Music appeared in Dresden in
1690. He boldly declared the author of music to be the good God himself,
who fashioned the air to transmit musical sounds, the ear to receive
them, the soul of man to throb with emotions demanding utterance, and
all nature to be filled with sources of inspiration. The good
Capellmeister was in close touch with the Truth.
It was in 1835, the same year that the French writer mentioned offered
his wild speculations, that Herbert Spencer, from the standpoint of a
scientist, produced his essay on the "Origin and Function of Music,"
which has proved invaluable in arousing discriminating thought in these
lines. Many years elapsed before its worth to musicians was realized.
To-day it is widely known and far-reaching in its influence.
In those inner agitations which cause muscular expansion and
contraction, and find expression in the inflections and cadences of the
voice, Herbert Spencer saw the foundations of music. He unhesitatingly
defined it as emotional speech, the language of the feelings, whose
function was to increase the sympathies and broaden the horizon of
mankind. Besides frankly placing music at the head of the fine arts, he
declared that those sensations of unexperienced felicity it arouses,
those impressions of an unknown, ideal existence it calls forth, may be
regarded as a prophecy to the fulfilment of which music is itself partly
instrumental. Our strange capacity for being affected by melody and
harmony cannot but imply that it is possible to realize the delights
they suggest. On these suppositions might be comprehended the power and
significance of music which must otherwise remain a mystery. The
progress of musical culture, he thought, could not be too much applauded
as a noble means of ministering to human welfare. Mr. Spencer's theory
has of late led to much controversy. Its author has been censured for
setting forth no explanation of the place of harmony in modern music,
and for not realizing what a musical composition is. In his last volume,
"Facts and Comments," which contains many valuable thoughts not
previously published, he declares that his critics have obviously
confounded the origin of a thing and that which originates from it.
"Here we have a striking example of the way in which an hypothesis is
made to appear untenable by representing it as being something which it
does not profess to be," he says. "I gave an account of the origin of
music, and now I am blamed because my conception of the origin of music
does not include a conception of music as fully developed. If to some
one who said that an oak comes from an acorn it were replied that he had
manifestly never seen an oak, since an acorn contains no trace of all
its complexities of form and structure, the reply would not be thought a
rational one;" but he believes it would be quite as rational as to
suppose he had not realized what a musical composition is because his
theory of the origin of music says nothing about the characteristics of
an overture or a quartet.
Of the music of primeval man we can form an estimate from the music of
still existing uncivilized races. As the vocabulary of their speech is
limited, so the notes of their music are few, but expressive gestures
and modulations of the voice supplement both. With advancing
civilization the emotions of which the human heart are capable become
more complex and demand larger means of expression. Some belief in the
healing, helpful, uplifting power of music has always prevailed. It
remains for independent, practical, modern man to present the art to the
world as a thing of law and order, whose ineffable beauty and
beneficence may reach the lives of the average man and woman.
Without the growth of the individual, music cannot grow; without freedom
of thought, neither the language of tones nor that of words can gain
full, free utterance. Freedom is essential to the life of the indwelling
spirit. Wherever the flow of thought and fancy is impeded, or the
energies of the individual held in check, there music is cramped. In
China, where conditions have crushed spiritual and intellectual liberty,
the art remains to this day in a crude rhythmical or percussion state,
although it was early honored as the gift of superior beings. The
Chinese philosopher detected a grand world music in the harmonious order
of the heavens and the earth, and wrote voluminous works on musical
theory. When it came to putting this into practice tones were combined
in a pedantic fashion.
In all ages and climes music has ministered to religion and education.
The sacred Vedas bear testimony to the high place it held in Hindu
worship and life. Proud records of stone reveal its dignified rôle in
the civilization of Egypt, where Plato stated there had existed ten
thousand years before his day music that could only have emanated from
gods or godlike men. The art was taught by the temple priests, and the
education of no young person was complete without a knowledge of it.
Egyptian musical culture impressed itself on the Greeks, and also on the
Israelites, whose tone-language gained warmth and coloring from various
Oriental sources. Hebrew scriptures abound in tributes to the worth of
music which was intimately related to the political life, mental
consciousness and national sentiment of the Children of Israel. Through
music they approached the unseen King of kings with the plaintive
outpourings of their grief-laden hearts and with their joyful hymns of
praise and thanksgiving.
From the polished Greeks we gained a basis for the scientific laws
governing our musical art. The splendid music of which we read in
ancient writings has for the most part vanished with the lives it
enriched. Relegated to the guardianship of exclusive classes its most
sacred secrets were kept from the people, and it could not possibly have
attained the expansion we know.
Music has been called the handmaiden of Christianity, but may more
appropriately be designated its loyal helpmeet. Whatever synagogue or
other melodies may have first served to voice the sentiments kindled by
the Gospel of Glad Tidings it was inevitable that the new religious
thought should seek and find new musical expression.
In shaping a ritual for general use, an accompaniment of suitable music
had to be considered. The fathers of the church constituted themselves
also the guides of music. Those forms which give symmetry and
proportion to the outward structure of the tonal art were pruned and
polished under ecclesiastical surveillance until spontaneity was
endangered. Happily in the spirit of Christianity is that which ever
proves a remedy for the mistakes of law-givers. The religion that
inculcates respect for the individual has furthered the advance of music
and of spirituality.
Beyond the confines of the church was another musical growth, springing
up by the wayside and in remote places. Folk-music it is called, and it
gives untrammeled utterance to human longings, human grief and despair,
and human wondering over the mysteries of life, death and the great
Beyond. Untutored people had always found vent in this kind of music for
pent-up feelings, and the folk-music of the Christian world, during the
Crusades, gained a new element in the fragments of Oriental melody
transplanted into its midst. In time, through the combined wisdom of
gifted composers and large-minded ecclesiastical rulers, the music of
the church and the music of the people became united, and modern music
was born.
Architecture, painting, sculpture and poetry possess practical proofs of
their past achievements and on these their present endeavors are
builded. Modern music has been compelled to be the architect of its own
fortunes. It is the one new art of our era, and, as the youngest in the
family of arts, it has but recently reached a high state of development.
During those eleven Christian centuries, from the latter part of the
fourth century, when the corner-stone for our musical system was laid,
until the wonderful exploration period of the fifteenth was well
advanced, the masters of music were absorbed in controlling the elements
of their art. Since then event has crowded upon event with rapidly
increasing ratio. During the past two centuries the progress of the art
has been like a tale in fairyland. We now possess a magnificent musical
vocabulary, a splendid musical literature, yet so accustomed are we to
grand treasure-troves we perhaps prize them no more than the meagre
stores of the past were prized.
Music is often mentioned in literature as a means of discipline,
inspiration and refreshment. We read in Homer that Achilles was
instructed in the art that he might learn to moderate his passions;
Pythagoras, father of Musical Science, counseled his disciples to
refresh themselves at the fount of music before retiring to their
couches at night in order to restore the inner harmony of their souls,
and to seek strength in the morning from the same source. Plato taught
that music is as essential to the mind as air is to the body, and that
children should be familiarized with harmonies and rhythms that they
might be more gentle, harmonious and rhythmical, consequently better
fitted for speech and action.
"Song brings of itself a cheerfulness that wakes the heart to joy,"
exclaimed Euripides, and certain it is a large measure of joy surrounds
those who live in an atmosphere of music. It has a magic wand that lifts
man beyond the petty worries of his existence. "Music is a shower-bath
of the soul," said Schopenhauer, "washing away all that is impure." Or
as Auerbach put it: "Music washes from the soul the dust of everyday
life."
Realizing the influence of music, Martin Luther sang the Reformation
into the hearts of the people with his noble chorals in which every one
might join. He called music a mistress of order and good manners, and
introduced it into the schools as a means of refinement and discipline,
in whose presence anger and all evil would depart. "A schoolmaster,"
said he, "ought to have skill in music, otherwise I would not regard
him; neither should we ordain young men to the office of preaching
unless they have been well exercised in the art, for it maketh a fine
people." It were well if teachers and ministers to-day more generally
appreciated the value of music to them and their work.
Music is an essential factor in great national movements. Every
commander knows how inspiring and comforting it is to his men. Napoleon
Bonaparte, who was not readily lifted out of himself and who complained
that music jarred his nerves, was shrewd enough to observe its effect on
marching troops, and to order the bands of different regiments to play
daily in front of hospitals to soothe and cheer the wounded. The one
tune he prized, Malbrook, he hummed as he started for his last campaign.
In the solitude of St. Helena he said: "Of all liberal arts music has
the greatest influence over the passions, and it is that to which the
legislator ought to give the most encouragement."
An art that in some form is found in the varied activities of all
people, at all times, must be the common heritage of humanity. "It does
not speak to one class but to mankind," said Robert Franz, the German
song writer. Alexander Bain called it the most available, universal and
influential of the fine arts, and Dr. Marx, the musical theorist,
thought music beneficial to the moral and spiritual estate of the
masses.
Truly indeed has it been said that its universality gives music its high
worth. Mirroring neither your inner life alone nor mine, but the
world's essence, the transfiguration of what seems real, the divine
Ideal, some spark of which glows in every bosom, each individual may
feel in it whatever he is capable of feeling. The soul's language, it
takes up the thread dropped by words and gives utterance to those
refined sentiments and holy aspirations words are inadequate to awaken
or express. Its message is borne from heart to heart, revealing to each
things unseen, according as it is prepared to receive them.
In the Merchant of Venice, Shakespeare made Lorenzo speak to Jessica of
the harmony that is in immortal souls and say that "whilst this muddy
vesture of decay doth grossly close it in we cannot hear it." To refine
this muddy vesture, to render the spirit attentive, to bring light,
sweetness, strength, harmony and beauty into daily life is the central
function of music which, from the cradle to the grave, is man's most
intimate companion.
Richard Wagner devoutly believed it would prepare the way for an
unspoiled, unfettered humanity, illumined by a perception of Truth and
Beauty and united by a bond of sympathy and love. This ideal union is
the goal at which Tolstoi aims in his "What is Art?" He defines art as a
human activity to be enjoyed by all, whose purpose is the transmission
of the most exalted feelings to which men have arisen; but the union he
proposes would have to be consummated by a leveling process. All art
that cannot without preparation reach the uncultured classes is
denounced by him. He is most bitter in his denunciation of Wagner, who
fought for a democratic art, but who wished to attain it by raising the
lowliest of his fellow-creatures to an ever loftier plane of high
thinking and feeling.
According to Tolstoi, art began to degenerate when it separated itself
from religion. There must have been dense mist before the Russian sage's
mental vision when he fancied this separation possible. Art, especially
musical art, is a vital part of religion, and cannot be put asunder from
it. Like thought, music, since the bonds of church and state have been
broken, has spread wide its pinions and soared to hitherto unsuspected
heights. All noble music is sacred.
Amid the marvelous material progress of to-day music is more needed than
ever. Unburdened by the responsibility of fact, it brings relief to the
soul from the grinding pressure of constant grappling with knowledge.
The benefits of knowledge are great, but it is also beneficial to be
uplifted, as we may be by music, from out the perplexing labyrinth of
the work-a-day world toward the realm of the Divine Ideal.
As a means of culture music is a potent factor in human civilization. It
is destined to wield even greater influence than has yet been known. It
has become the household art of to-day. As it enters more and more fully
into the heart of the home and social life it will more and more enrich
human existence and aid in ushering in the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth.
If music can do so much for mankind, why are not all musicians great and
good? Ah, my friend, that is a hard question to answer, and can only be
fairly treated by asking another equally difficult question: Why are not
all people who have enjoyed the advantages of religion wise and noble?
Consider the gigantic machinery that has been put in motion to
promulgate Christianity, and note how slow men have been to appropriate
the teachings of its founder. Slow progress furnishes no argument
against the mission either of religion or its comrade music.
In common with religion music kindles our finer sensibilities and brings
us into an atmosphere superior to that which ordinarily surrounds us. It
requires wisdom to beautify commonplace conditions with what has been
enjoyed in aërial regions. Rightly applied, music can lend itself to
this illumination. As it is better known, its advantages will be more
completely realized.