Chapter 2

"Oh! had I but the power To set the proper words To all your glorious melodies, My sweet-voiced birds,

When words and dainty music Would each to each belong, Together we might give the world A _perfect_ song."

But I need not refer at greater length to these sweet harmonists of Nature, since scarce an ear is so dull, and few hearts are so cold, as not to be charmed and cheered by their unceasing, joyous melodies.

It might well be thought that flowers, those "fairy ministers of grace," with their delicately tinted, variegated, perfect hues, that emit, in their sweet, delicious perfumes, what may be called the "breath of heaven," possess in these delightful qualities full enough to instruct and charm mankind. But there is a flower, it seems, that, inviting the aid of the evening zephyr, adds sweet music to its other fascinating beauties. Let the poet Twombly sing of the music-giving--

BLUE HAREBELL.

Have ye ever heard in the twilight dim A low, soft strain That ye fancied a distant vesper-hymn, Borne o'er the plain By the zephyrs that rise on perfumed wing, When the sun's last glances are glimmering?

Have ye heard that music, with cadence sweet And merry peal, Ring out like the echoes of fairy feet O'er flowers that steal?

The source of that whispering strain I'll tell; For I have listened oft To the music faint of the blue harebell In the gloaming soft: 'Tis the gay fairy-folk the peal who ring, At even-time, for their banqueting.

And gayly the trembling bells peal out With gentle tongue; While elves and fairies career about 'Mid dance and song.

It would be tedious to enumerate and dwell upon all the very numerous music-making agencies of the natural world; and I shall therefore allude only to a few of those not already mentioned.

Many have heard the sounds of waterfalls, and know that from them issues a kind of majestic music, which, to be appreciated, must be heard. Musicians of finely-cultivated ears have studied the tones of waterfalls; and two of them, Messrs. A. and E. Heim, say that a mass of falling water gives

"The chord of C sharp, and also the non-accordant F. When C and D sound louder than the middle note, F is heard very fully, as a deep, dull, humming, far-resounding tone, with a strength proportionate to the mass of the falling water. It easily penetrates to a distance at which the other notes are inaudible. The notes C, E, G, F, belong to all rushing water, and in great falls are sometimes in different octaves. Small falls give the same notes one or two octaves higher. In the stronger falls, F is heard the most easily; in the weak ones, C. At the first attempt, C is most readily detected. Persons with musical cultivation, on attempting to sing near rapidly-moving water, naturally use the key of C sharp, or of F sharp if near a great fall."

Somewhat similar to waterfalls in the character of the tunes they produce (being distinguished, however, generally, by a greater softness and more gentle flow) are the waves, that, handsome in form, roll majestically shoreward, greeting the ear with a strange, dirge-like, yet, as it seems to the writer, pleasing harmony.

Here is given a duet between the waves and zephyrs:--

"We sit beneath the dreaming moon, And gaze upon the sea: Our hearts with Nature are in tune; List to her minstrelsy. The waves chant low and soft their song, And kiss the rocks in glee; While zephyrs their sweet lay prolong,-- Their love-song to the sea."

There is a pretty, delicate music made by the rippling, gurgling brooklet, as its transparent waters glide over its pebbly bottom. And there's the musical sea-shell. Place it to the ear, and you shall catch, as if in the far distance, the reverberating roll of the billowy ocean as it sings a mighty song. To this the poet Wordsworth very gracefully refers in the following lines:--

"I have seen A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract Of inland ground, applying to his ear The convolutions of a smooth-lipped shell: To which, in silence hushed, his very soul Listened intensely, and his countenance soon Brightened with joy; for from within were heard Murmurings whereby the monitor expressed Mysterious union with its native sea."

And an anonymous writer (it does not seem that he had good cause for hiding his name) thus discourses on the music of the sea:--

"The gray, unresting sea, Adown the bright and belting shore Breaking in untold melody, Makes music evermore.

Centuries of vanished time, Since this glad earth's primeval morn, Have heard the grand, unpausing chime, Momently new born.

Like as in cloistered piles Rich bursts of massive sounds upswell, Ringing along dim-lighted aisles With spirit-trancing spell;

So on the surf-white strand Chants of deep peal the sea-waves raise, Like voices from a viewless land Hymning a hymn of praise.

By times, in thunder-notes, The booming billows shoreward surge; By times a silver laugh it floats; By times a low, soft dirge.

Souls more ennobled grow Listing the worldly anthem rise; Discords are drowned in the great flow Of Nature's harmonies.

Men change and 'cease to be,' And empires rise and grow and fall; But the weird music of the sea Lives, and outlives them all.

The mystic song shall last Till time itself no more shall be; Till seas and shores have passed, Lost in eternity."

But the wind is one of Nature's chief musicians. Sometimes singing his own songs, or lending his aid in awaking to musical life the leaves and boughs of the trees; whistling melodies among the reeds; entering the recesses of a hollow column, and causing to issue from thence a pleasing, flute-like sound; blowing his quiet, soothing lays in zephyrs; or rushing around our dwellings, singing his tuneful yet minor refrain,--in these, and in even other ways, does this mighty element of the Creator contribute to the production of melody in the world of nature. A writer in "The Youth's Companion" speaks very entertainingly of "voices in trees." He says,--

"Trees, when played upon by the wind, yield forth a variety of tones. Mrs. Hemans once asked Sir Walter Scott if he had noticed that every tree gives out its peculiar sound. 'Yes,' said he, 'I have; and I think something might be done by the union of poetry and music to imitate those voices, giving a different measure to the oak, the pine, the willow, &c.' The same journal from which we take this anecdote mentions, that in Henry Taylor's drama, 'Edwin the Fair,' there are some pleasing lines, where the wind is feigned to feel the want of a voice, and to woo the trees to give him one.

"He applied to several: but the wanderer rested with the pine, because her voice was constant, soft, and lowly deep; and he welcomed in her a wild memorial of the ocean-cave, his birthplace. There is a fine description of a storm in 'Coningsby,' where a sylvan language is made to swell the diapason of the tempest. 'The wind howled, the branches of the forest stirred, and sent forth sounds like an incantation. Soon might be distinguished the various voices of the mighty trees, as they expressed their terror or their agony. The oak roared, the beech shrieked, the elm sent forth its long, deep groan; while ever and anon, amid a momentary pause, the passion of the ash was heard in moans of thrilling anguish.'"

I shall close this chapter on the music of Nature by appending a beautiful reference to what has been called "the music of the spheres." The lines form, as well, an elegant and elevated description of and tribute to music in general. I regret that the author's name cannot be given.

"The Father spake: in grand reverberations Through space rolled on the mighty music-tide; While to its low, majestic modulations The clouds of chaos slowly swept aside.

The Father spake: a dream, that had been lying Hushed from eternity in silence there, Heard the pure melody, and, low replying, Grew to that music in the wondering air,--

Grew to that music, slowly, grandly waking, Till, bathed in beauty, it became a world; Led by his voice, its spheric pathway taking, While glorious clouds their wings around it furled.

Not yet has ceased that sound, his love revealing; Though, in response, a universe moves by: Throughout eternity its echo pealing, World after world awakes in glad reply.

And wheresoever in his rich creation Sweet music breathes,--in wave, in bird, or soul,-- 'Tis but the faint and far reverberation Of that great tune to which the planets roll."

III.

A GLANCE AT THE HISTORY OF MUSIC.

"Thespis, the first professor of our art, At country wakes sang ballads from a cart."

DRYDEN.

Music is as old as the world itself. In some form or other, it has always existed. Ere man learned to give vent to his emotions in tuneful voice, Nature, animate and inanimate, under the hand of the Great Master, sang his praises. Of this we learn in the sacred writings; while all about us, in the songs of birds, the musical sighing of the winds, the fall of waters, and the many forms of the music of Nature, we have palpable evidence of its present existence, and assurances of its most remote antiquity.

It would seem that not long after "God breathed into the nostrils of man the breath of life, and he became a living soul," he learned to express the joys and yearnings of his soul in song first, and then with some sort of musical instrument. And to man it was given, commencing with the early ages, to develop the simple ejaculations or melodies of a praise-giving soul into a beautiful, a noble art, replete at times with harmonic intricacies, and again with melodies grand in their very simplicity; into a beneficent science, divine from its inception, which has ever had as votaries many of earth's greatest minds, and has become a fountain of delight to all mankind.

The history of the music of antiquity--that is, in an art-form--is nearly, if indeed not quite, enveloped in mystery; and it were futile to profess to give an historical presentation of an art from its birth, when documentary evidence of the same is lost.

We may, however, very reasonably suppose of music generally, that it must have been gradually developed, having had its infancy, childhood, and youth; and that it grew slowly into present scientific form with the advance of the centuries.

From all we can gather in regard to the early history of music as a system, it would appear that it had its infancy in ancient Greece; although it is supposed by some that the Grecian method was founded upon that of the still more ancient one of the Egyptians. Dr. Burgh, a learned musical writer states that, of "the time before Christ, music was most cultivated and was most progressive in Greece." The verses of the Greek poet Homer, who was himself a musician, abound in beautiful allusions to and descriptions of this charming science; while in mythology are recounted the wonderful musical achievements of the god Orpheus, who is said to have been so skilled in music that the very rocks and trees followed in his wake of harmony.

The first artificial music of which the Bible speaks was that which was sung or played in praise of the Creator,--sacred music. In fact, this noble quality of the soul was very rarely called into exercise, save in the worship of the Deity, until many centuries had passed. Of music before the Christian era, both vocal and instrumental, the books of the Old Testament often speak. As to its exact character, we are left to conjecture, being, as before intimated, without materials from which to form a judgment; but, in some form or other, there was, during that period, abundance of what was called music.

The first mention of music, either vocal or instrumental, in the Scriptures, is made in Gen. iv. 21: "Jubal was the father of all such as handle the harp and organ." Jubal was only seventh in descent from Adam; and from this passage it is thought by some that he was the inventor of instrumental music. In the year B.C. 1739, in Gen. xxxi. 27, Laban says to Jacob, "Wherefore didst thou flee away from me, and didst not tell me, that I might have sent thee away with mirth and with songs, with tabret and with harp?" This is the first mention in the Bible of vocal music. King David, who has been called "the sweet singer of Israel," is said to have been a skilful performer on the harp. By his magical touch upon its strings at a certain time, he produced sounds so sweetly soothing as to drive away the "evil spirit" from Saul.

The poet Byron pays an elevated, glowing tribute to this "monarch minstrel" in the following lines:--

"The harp the monarch minstrel swept, The king of men, the loved of Heaven, Which Music hallowed while she wept O'er tones her heart of hearts had given,-- Redoubled be her tears; its chords are riven.

It softened men of iron mould; It gave them virtues not their own: No ear so dull, no soul so cold, That felt not, fired not, to the tone; Till David's lyre grew mightier than his throne.

It told the triumphs of our King; It wafted glory to our God; It made our gladdened valleys ring, The cedars bow, the mountains nod: Its sound aspired to heaven, and there abode.

Since then, though heard on earth no more, Devotion, and her daughter Love, Still bid the bursting spirit soar To sounds that seem as from above, In dreams that day's broad light cannot remove."

And here I append from the First of Chronicles, xiii. 8, a description of the music of the "house of Israel:" "And David and all Israel played before God with all their might, and with singing, and with harps, and with psalteries, and with timbrels, and with cymbals, and with trumpets."

Josephus, the learned Jewish historian, states that the Egyptians had two hundred thousand musicians playing at the dedication of the Temple of Solomon. This structure was of most wonderfully immense dimensions: and it may have been that this enormous body of performers played in _detachments_ about the building; otherwise the statement would seem apocryphal.

The Egyptian musical instruments, it appears, were mostly of very rude construction: performance upon them would not now, probably, be tolerated even in circles of the least musical culture.

Of these ancient instruments the Boston "Folio" thus speaks:--

"The Egyptian flute was only a cow's-horn, with three or four holes in it; and their harp, or lyre, had only three strings. The Grecian lyre had only seven strings, and was very small, being held in one hand. The Jewish trumpets that made the walls of Jericho fall down were only rams'-horns: their flute was the same as the Egyptian. They had no other instrumental music but by percussion, of which the greatest boast was made of the psaltery,--a small triangular harp, or lyre, with wire strings, and struck with an iron needle or stick. Their sackbut was something like a bagpipe; the timbrel was a tambourine; and the dulcimer, a horizontal harp with wire strings, and struck with a stick like the psaltery."

The following interesting and able summary of the history of ancient Roman music is taken from a recent number of "The Vox Humana:"--

"Art love was not a distinguished characteristic of the ancient Romans; and we are not astonished, therefore, to find them borrowing music from Etruria, Greece, and Egypt; originating nothing, and (although the study was pursued by the emperors) never finding any thing higher in its practice than a sensuous gratification.

"In the earliest days of Rome, the inhabitants were exclusively farmers or warriors; and their first temples were raised to Ceres or to Mars.

"The priests of Ceres came originally from Asia Minor, and were called the Arval Brotherhood. Flute-playing was a prominent feature in their rites, and they were all proficient upon that instrument. Their number was limited to twelve.

"The worship of Mars was conducted by the Salian priests, whom Numa summoned to Rome from Etruria. These also used the flute as an accessory to their sacrificial rites. In these primitive days of Rome, much was borrowed from the Etruscans in style and instruments of music.

"The earliest songs of Rome were in praise of Romulus, and told the story of the twin-brothers and the divine origin of the city. They were sung by choruses of boys. Similar songs were sung during meals by the elders, with an accompaniment of flutes; these latter songs being especially directed to the young men, and inciting them to be worthy of the deeds of their ancestors.

"Under the rule of the emperors, all these worthy compositions went to decay, and were replaced by a much more degrading school of music. At no time, however, was music considered a necessary part of the education of Roman youth.

"There existed in the latter days of ancient Rome some music-schools; but the study was far less universally pursued than in Greece at the same epoch. The musical course has been given by Quintilian as follows:--

"Theoretical: first, arithmetic, physics; second, harmony, rhythm, metrics.

"Practical: composition, rhythm, melody, poetry.

"Execution: playing instruments, singing, dramatic action; which makes a rather formidable array, even to modern eyes.

"Among the Roman musical instruments, the flute was the most popular, and essentially national. We have already stated that it was used in the worship of their two chief deities: it was in secular use to a yet greater extent.

"This flute (_tibia_) was hooped with brass bands, and had an immense resonance. It was used by both sexes; but, on public and on most religious occasions, was played by men.

"The frequency with which it was used made the art of playing it a most remunerative one; and the flute-players soon formed themselves into a guild, or protective society. This guild had many privileges accorded to it, and existed for a period of some centuries. The 'Guild of Dionysian Artists' was a society of later date, and was a musical conservatory, academy, and agency, all in one. It flourished greatly under the patronage of various Roman emperors, and for a long time supplied singers and actors to the Roman world.

"Valerius Maximus has given an anecdote which shows how powerful and exacting the guild of flute-players could afford to be.

"They were one day excluded from the Temple of Jupiter, where they had been allowed, by ancient custom, to take their meals; upon which the entire guild left Rome, and went to the village of Tibur near by. This caused great embarrassment: no religious services could be held, and scarce any state ceremony properly conducted. The senate thereupon sent an embassy to induce them to return,--in vain: the angry musicians were inflexible. The wily ambassadors then called the inhabitants of Tibur to their aid, and these pretended to give a great feast to welcome the flute-players. At this feast the musicians were all made very drunk; and, while asleep from the effects of their liquor, they were bundled into chariots, and driven back to Rome, where all their old privileges were restored, and newer and greater ones added.

"They received the right to give public representations and spectacles in Rome; but at these they were all masked, the reason being their shame at the manner of their inglorious return to the city.

"Flutes were used at funerals; and it appears, at one time, the luxury and pomp of Roman obsequies grew so excessive, that a law was passed limiting the number of flute-players on such occasions to ten.

"Only at one time did the flute disappear from any public worship, and that was when the worship of Bacchus was introduced into Rome. To this rite the kithara was used; but this worship, which was somewhat refined, though jovial, among the Greeks, became among the Romans so debauched and uxorious, that it was soon prohibited by law.

"The flute was used in combination with other instruments at times. Apuleius speaks of a concert of flutes, kitharas, and chorus, and mentions its deliciously sweet effect. It was also used as a pitch-pipe, to give orators a guide in modulating their voices when addressing an assembly: thus Caius Gracchus always on such occasions had a slave behind him, whose duty it was to aid him to commence his orations in a proper pitch, and when his voice sank too low, or became too shrill, to call him to a better intonation by the sounds of the flute.

"Although the flute was the favorite Roman instrument, it was by no means the only one. Trumpets were used to a great extent. A one-toned trumpet, of very loud voice, was used for battle-signals. These were of very large size, usually of brass; and their sound is described as 'terrible.' There was also a smaller (shepherd's) trumpet of mellower tone.

"Another much-used instrument, of different character, was the _sumphonium_, which did not differ materially from the modern bagpipe.

"Instruments of percussion were few, and not indigenous to the Romans: such as were used came from the East, and were chiefly used in the worship of Eastern deities at Rome. When the worship of Bacchus was prohibited, they passed away with that licentious rite. The most complicated instrument of the ancient world appeared in Rome during the first century of our era. It was an _organ_, not, as in the scriptural days, a mere syrinx, or Pan's pipes, but an undoubted organ, somewhat similar in effect to our modern instrument.

"The instrument is said to have been invented by Ctesbius of Alexandria in Egypt, who lived about 250 B.C. It did not appear extensively in Rome, however, until nearly three hundred years later. This organ has given rise to much fruitless discussion. In the field of musical history especially, 'a little' knowledge has proved 'a dangerous thing;' for, where slight descriptions exist of instruments of music, latitude is left for every writer to form his own theory, to fight for it, and denunciate those who differ from it.

"We have seen what a battle was fought over the three little manuscripts of Greek music; what a host of differing opinions were held about the scriptural word 'Selah:' and now, about this hydraulic organ, each writer mounts his hobby-horse, and careers over the field of conjecture. Vitruvius has given a full description of the instrument from personal inspection; but as his technical terms have lost all significance to modern readers, and have been translated in various ways, and as his work contained no diagrams or illustrations of the various parts, it is useless.