CHAPTER IV

THE MUSIC OF THE ANCIENT GREEKS

Significance of Greek music--Greek conception of music; mythical records--Music in social life; folk song; general characteristics of Greek music--Systems and scales--Pythagoras’ theories; later theorists: Aristoxenus to Ptolemy--Periods of Greek composition: the nomoi; lyricism; choral dancing and choral lyricism; the drama--Greek instruments; notation.

The importance of the music of the most ancient civilizations and its relevance to the history of music as an art may be questioned with some justification. Indeed, some historians, notably Riemann, in his scholarly _Handbuch der Musikgeschichte_, have practically foregone all reference to it. But an account of Greek music has unanimously been held an essential part of the scheme, for it has had an unquestioned influence upon the beginnings of our own art, and though misunderstood for centuries its theoretic system has served as the foundation of mediæval musical science.

Moreover, the Greeks, in whose civilization antiquity reached its pinnacle, manifested an attitude toward the art distinctly different from that of the older nations, an æsthetic and humanistic attitude more akin to our own, which enabled them to realize something like the degree of beauty and perfection which they are conceded to have attained in the other arts. Therefore, though music is destitute of parallels to our glorious examples of the plastic arts of antiquity, a presentation of the few facts hinting at the true merits of this lost art is distinctly pertinent.

I

It is lamentable, indeed, that next to nothing has been preserved to us of Greek music. The few fragments which assiduous antiquarians have restored and deciphered are hardly sufficient to suggest its true quality, and even further restorations could do no more than confirm the present evidence, for manuscripts are but the skeleton records--the essence has been lost with the lyres and flutes, it has died with the voices of Anacreon and Sappho.

While we moderns generally deny to music any direct correspondence with the realities of life, the Greeks held it to be the most 'imitative’ or representative of arts.[32] Not only states of feeling, but also ethical qualities and dispositions of mind were reproduced by musical 'imitation,’ and on the close correspondence between the copy and the original depended the importance of music in the formation of character. Aristotle in his 'Politics’ says: 'In rhythm and melodies we have the most realistic imitation of anger and mildness, as well as of courage, temperance, and all their opposites.’ Here is an important element in the Greek conception of music, radically different from our own. Its imputed educational value, its influence upon the character of the youth, and even its therapeutic powers are no less foreign to our modern ideas.

Plato in his 'Republic’ sets down the study of music and its regulation as an essential part of the ideal commonwealth. 'Beginning from early childhood,’ he says, 'they teach and admonish their sons as long as they live....’ 'Again the music masters in the same way pay attention to sobriety of behavior and take care that the boys commit no evil, and when they have learned to play upon the lyre they teach them all the compositions of other good poets, lyric poets, setting them to music, and they compel Modes and Harmony to become familiar to the boys’ souls in order that they may become more gentle, and, being themselves more rhythmical and harmonious, they may be serviceable in word and deed; for the whole life of man requires rhythm and harmony.’ And elsewhere in the same work: 'But when handsome amusements are appointed them in their infancy, and when by means of music they embrace that amusement which is according to law (contrariwise to the others), this music attends them in everything else and grows with them, and raiseth up in the city whatever formerly was fallen down.’

As illustrative of the moral import of music Plato says: 'Is it indeed then according as I say, that we shall never become musicians, neither we ourselves, nor the guardians we say we are to educate, before we understand the images of temperance, fortitude, liberality and magnificence, and the other sister virtues?...’ Hierocles attests Pythagoras’ belief in the therapeutic powers of music in the following quotation: 'He look’d on Musick as a great advantage to Health and made use of it in the diseases of the body as well as of the Soul; for, as Plato said after him, Perfect Musick is a Compound of Voices and of Instrumental Harmony. The Voice alone is more perfect than instruments alone; but it wants one thing to complete its Perfection; and that one thing is Harmony: and Instruments alone, without a voice, yield only rambling and extravagant Sounds, which may indeed affect and move the Soul, but cannot instruct nor form the Manners which ought to be the chief end of Musick.’[33]

Before considering the probable character and form of ancient Hellenic compositions we must record that music hardly existed among the Greeks as an independent art. The word [Greek: mousikê] held a much broader meaning than our own word music; it included poetry, at least in its narrower sense, and in a measure dancing and mimetics. Likewise it was closely allied, through their philosophy, to mathematics and astronomy. But to say that music was subordinate to poetry is inaccurate, for, while vocal compositions, both solo and choral, made up the bulk of Greek music, instrumental music was practised not only in accompaniment, but independently also, and virtuosity on the _kithara_ and _aulos_ was developed to a considerable degree. The great musicians of Greece, however, were at the same time its great poets. Homer and Hesiod may be thought of as musicians, no less than Pindar, the adored creator of the first dithyramb, and Æschylus, the greatest of dramatists. It may be interesting at this point to reproduce the table compiled by Aristides Quintilianus (second century A. D.), one of the most eminent Greek theoreticians of the Roman era, to show the various branches of musical science as then understood. This illustrates clearly the union of poetry and music, the perfect fusion of two arts in which neither predominated, but was only an inherent part of the other.

│ │ a) Arithmetic (musical │ A. Natural │ mathematics) │ Science <│ │ │ b) Physics (acoustics and I. Theoretical │ │ physiology of hearing) Part <│ │ │ c) Harmonics │ │ │ B. Musical <│ d) Rhythmics │ Technology │ │ │ e) Metrical Science (Prosody)

│ │ f) Melodic invention │ │ │ C. Composition <│ g) Formation of stanzas II. Practical │ │ Part │ │ h) Poetry <│ (Applied Music) │ │ j) Instrumental practice │ │ │ D. Musical <│ k) Singing │ Practice │ │ │ l) Mimetics

The earliest references to the art, in the works of Homer and Hesiod,[34] who themselves may be deemed the first poetic singers of record, are clothed in mythical terms, and a brief review of these references may be of interest as reflecting the racial attitude toward music. In Hesiod we read much about the immortal muses, the nine daughters of Zeus (all-father) and Mnemosyne (memory), and of these especially three are of interest to us: _Calliope_, the muse of epic song; _Euterpe_, the muse of melody and lyric poetry, and _Terpsichore_, the muse of choral dance. According to Homer these entertained the gods by singing (Iliad, i, 604), while song itself the poet considered a direct gift of the gods.

The greatest mythical figure of Greek music is Orpheus, who, like all the early civilizers of Hellas, was a Thracian, a people afterward considered barbarous by the Athenians. Orpheus was said to be the son of the king of Thrace, by the muse Calliope, but another account makes Apollo his father. He was one of the Argonauts, and indeed it was the stirring tones of his lyre as he chanted of adventure on the sea that stirred the good ship _Argo_ to her launching when all the strength of the heroes had failed in the task. On passing the Island of the Sirens the Argonauts owed their safety to Orpheus, for, taking his lyre, he sang so loudly and so sweetly as to overpower the Sirens’ melodies, whereby all escaped unscathed save Butes, who plunged overboard only to be snatched up by Aphrodite. Again it was the urging of Orpheus’ lyre that gave the strength to the Argonautic rowers to speed between the clashing rocks, the Sympleglades, after the dove had passed through and the rocks had recoiled. The skill with which he plucked the strings moved even the trees and rocks, and the wild beasts of the forest surrounded him in delighted transports as he sang.

The story of Orpheus and his wife, the nymph Eurydice, is perhaps the best known of all myths connected with music. Eurydice, it is said, was slain by the bite of a serpent as she was fleeing from the unwelcome love of Aristæus, son of Apollo. Orpheus determined to descend to the Underworld, and, using the power of melody to soften the hearts of the rulers of that abode of Darkness and of Death, to regain possession of his beloved. Armed with his lyre, he easily obtained admittance to the realm of Hades, and in course of time made good his entrance to the palace of Pluto. At the music of his lyre the wheel of Ixion stopped, Tantalus forgot the thirst which was his eternal torture, for a moment the vulture ceased his perpetual gnawing at the vitals of Tityus and Pluto, and Proserpina granted the prayer of the impassioned melodist, with one condition only: that he should not look back upon his almost-rescued wife before he had reached with her the confines of the land of darkness. Impelled by love and eagerness, Orpheus violated this condition and Eurydice vanished evermore from his sight.

Of the poetical works ascribed to Orpheus, those which remain appear to have been written chiefly by Onamacritus and Cercops, and they illustrate some of the earliest forms of hymns with a musical accompaniment. Orpheus is also credited with the formulation of an augmentation of the scale, having added two strings to the seven-stringed lyre which Apollo had given him.

The legend of Amphion also signifies the peculiar veneration in which music was held by the Greeks. The son of Zeus (or Jupiter) and Antiope, he became king of the Thebans, and Hermes gave him a lyre of gold. By its power alone, the story runs, he built the walls of Thebes, the stones taking their places in obedience to the strains of his instrument. All of which serves to illustrate the high conception which the Greeks had of the art, how constantly it occupied their thoughts, and what extraordinary powers they ascribed to it. This is further attested by historical evidence showing the place which music occupied in their social system.

II

There is little doubt that in the classic period at least music was an essential part of the intellectual equipment of every citizen. It assumed a public importance and received an official recognition from the state which no other people has ever accorded to it. Not only did it form an integral part of religious worship, but it occupied an important position in the great national festivals at which the intellectual accomplishments no less than the physical prowess of all Greece were matched.

The Olympic games, beginning with the year 776 B. C., and taking place regularly every four years in the plain of Alpheious in Elis (Olympia), are the oldest as well as the most famous of these festivals, and as the most comprehensive national celebrations they assumed the greatest importance. All Hellas and the colonies sent spectators and participants in the contests. While music no doubt played a great part in the celebration of the victors, in the sacred sacrifice to Zeus, and in the pageants and dances, an actual contest in music or poetry was never incorporated into the Olympic games. But the Pythic games, which took place at Delphi every nine years, and after 586 B. C. in the third year of every Olympiad, were primarily poetico-musical contests in honor of Apollo. The first day was permanently dedicated to the performance of the famous _Nomos Pythicos_ (of which later). Both the Isthmian games and the Nemeic games, which took place every two years, were likewise closely identified with music.

But besides these great national festivals, which in all amounted to two or three annually, there were a great number of local celebrations, some of which partook of an almost national character by virtue of the great influx of foreign visitors. The Eleusinian mysteries, primarily confined to the initiates, also took on the character of a popular festival by the institution of public contests and pageants, in which, of course, music played a great part. The Athenians’ annual Panatheneas in honor of their patron goddess, their harvest festivals, and their Dionysos festivals; the Spartans’ numerous celebrations and a host of others, all of which were dedicated to some phase of culture, will indicate in some measure the tremendous amount of time and attention which the Greeks gave to the cultivation of the representative arts.

From Polybius, writing in the second century A. D., and taking as his authority Ephorus, writing two hundred years earlier, we learn that the Arcadians ordered their State affairs entirely according to music, in such manner that not only boys, but young men up to the age of thirty were obliged to cultivate musical study continually. 'From infancy on their children are accustomed to sing according to rule the hymns and pæans with which every country district praises its gods and heroes. Later they learn the melodies of Timotheus and Philoxenos, and annually perform their choral dances in the theatre to the accompaniment of Dionysian flutes--the children their children’s dances, and youths the dances of men. Throughout their whole life they institute performances in this way, not engaging foreign musicians, but relying upon their own talents, and relieving each other in turn in the execution of songs. And while it is not considered a disgrace to plead ignorance in other fields of knowledge, they consider it reprehensible to decline to sing. They also practise processions to the accompaniment of flutes, and annually perform dances which they study together and produce in the theatres at the common expense.’

Not only in the public functions, but in their domestic life as well, did music assume great importance. From earliest times we have records of folk songs associated with the various occupations of ordinary life. Of these the songs which have reference to the seasons of the year and their phenomena, and which express the emotions called forth by them, are of the greatest antiquity. They were sung by country folk, by the reapers and vintners. There were two distinct classes of folk songs, the songs of sorrow and the songs of joy, both of which existed according to Homer before his time. Karl Bücher in his _Arbeit und Rhythmus_ shows that in the occupational songs, where the dance did not form a part of the music, the rhythm of the occupations themselves--the handling of tools--determined the rhythm of the songs. Among such are the song of the miller while grinding, the song of the spinners, the binders of sheaves, and many others. There is no doubt that these songs, expressing in simple terms the sorrows and joys of the ordinary man, had a refreshing influence upon the more sophisticated artistic creations of Greek musicians, just as our folk songs have had upon the works of our greatest composers. The private practice of the more artistic forms was also common among the Greeks. We read in their literature how the lyre was passed round at the banquet, and each guest was expected to add to the merriment of the occasion; of the bridal songs, and many other forms of choral music executed upon special occasions.

Of these three tetrachords (from [Greek: tetra] = four and [Greek: chordon] = string) only the first was generally accepted, the chromatic was rarely used and the enharmonic probably only by _virtuosi_, for we have the testimony of Aristoxenus that the ear accustomed itself only with difficulty to the distinction of quarter tones.

By joining two diatonic tetrachords together we obtain a series of notes corresponding to the Dorian scale or mode ([Greek: harmonia])--more properly 'octave species’--which was accounted the oldest of all the modes:

Associated with this we soon find the Phrygian mode, supposed to be of Asiatic origin and introduced into Greece by Terpander of Lesbos, one of the earliest known composers of antiquity:

and also the Lydian, the name of which indicates its origin:

Around these three may be grouped all the modes in use in classic times. These scales or octave species may be compared rather to our present major and minor modes than to our modern transposition scales, in that their identity is determined _not_ by their absolute pitch, but by the intrinsic character of each mode, _based upon the distribution of the large and small steps or intervals within the octave_. But here the analogy ends, for the Greek modes cannot really be thought of in the same way as either modern scales or modes, which by long association with our harmonic system have become inseparably identified with it, so that every step of the scale has a harmonic significance as well as a melodic. Hence, there is associated with our scales the idea of _tonality_, which in its modern sense is entirely foreign to Greek music. Nevertheless a distinct character or _ethos_ was ascribed to their scales by the Greeks (just as our major and minor have their individual character). The Lydian, for instance, was thought of as plaintive and adaptable to songs of sorrow; the Dorian as manly and strong, hence to be employed in warlike strains; and so on.[36]

It will be seen that the above three scales correspond to the three series of notes comprised within the octaves from e to e´, d to d´, and c to c´, produced by the white keys of the piano. (While this does not indicate their absolute pitch, it represents the relative pitch at which they appear as part of the entire system, or 'foundation scale,’ of the Greeks, illustrated on page 103.) By a transposition of the tetrachord divisions of each of these scales, the Greeks obtained two additional scales out of each of the above three. These derived scales were denoted by the prefixes _hypo_ and _hyper_ (low and high), respectively:

Hypodorian (Like Hyperphrygian) Hyperdorian /━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━\ /━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━\ A B c d e f g a b c´ d´ e´ f´ g´ a´ b´ ╲▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁╱ Dorian

Hypophrygian (Like Hyperlydian) Hyperphrygian (Like Hypodorian) /━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━\ /━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━\ G A B c d e f g a b c´ d´ e´ f´ g´ a´ ╲▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁╱ Phrygian

Hypolydian Hyperlydian (Like Hypophrygian) /━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━\ /━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━\ F G A B c d e f a b c´ d´ e´ f´ g´ ╲▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁╱ Lydian

(It is evident from this table that the Hypodorian corresponds to the Hyperphrygian, and the Hypophrygian to the Hyperlydian; hence there are only seven _different_ modes.)

A common relationship was thus clearly recognized between the three scales of each group, which may be thought of as having one common tonic. It may be noted, however, that the Hypodorian probably had an independent existence before being associated with the Dorian, as is indicated by its own ethnological name of 'Æolian,’ and as such was supposed to be of great antiquity. The Hyperdorian enjoyed an independent existence as 'Mixolydian.’ Its invention has been variously ascribed to Sappho, Damon and Pythocleides.

We have seen how, by joining two tetrachords, the Greeks constructed their Dorian scale (octachord). By joining _additional_ tetrachords to this scale at either end they obtained their double octave scale or 'Perfect Immutable System’:

It should be noted, however, that the new tetrachords are added _conjunctively_, i. e., so that one of their notes (e) coincides with the terminal notes of the original octave, while the two tetrachords making up that octave were placed in juxtaposition with a whole tone step between them. This was called the tone of disjunction (_diezeuxis_). For purposes of modulation (_metabole_) they now laid across the middle of this system an additional diatonic tetrachord (from d to a) in such a way that one of its tones (b♭) came half way between the two notes of the _diezeuxis_.[37] The low A was added to round out the octave. (It is a curious fact that what we call _low_ the Greeks called _high_ and _vice versa_.) The two tetrachords _Meson_ and _Hypaton_, together with the conjunctive (_Synemmenon_), were also considered as an independent system called the Lesser Perfect System. The relation of these systems as well as the names of the individual notes are set forth on the accompanying table.

DOUBLE OCTAVE SCALE, or PERFECT IMMUTABLE SYSTEM

╱ ╱Nete hyperbolaion a { { Tone { {Paranete g { {hyperbolaion {Tetrachordon { Tone {Hyperbolaion {Trite hyperbolaion f { { Semitone { ╲Nete Diezeugmenon e { / \ { ╱ Tone / \ Diezeuxis ╲ { {Paranete d d Nete } ╲ { {Diezeugmenon Synemmenon } } {Tetrachordon { Tone Tone } Tetrachordon} {Diezeugmenon {Trite c c Paranete } Synemmenon } { {Diezeugmenon Synemmenon } } { { Semitone Tone } } { ╲Paramese b b♭Trite Synemmenon } } { Diezeuxis \ / Semitone ╱ } The { ╱ a Mese ╲ }The Greater { { Tone } }Lesser Perfect { Tetrachordon { G Lichanos Meson }Tetrachordon }Perfect System { Meson { Tone }Meson }System { { F Parhypate Meson } } { { Semitone } } { ╲ E Hypate Meson ╱ } { ╱ Tone ╲ } { { D Lichanos Hypaton }Tetrachordon } { Tetrachordon { Tone }Hypaton } { Hypaton { C Parhypate Hypaton } } { { Semitone } } { { B Hypate Hypaton ╱ ╱ { ╲ ╲ A Proslambanomenos

By carving out of the Greater Perfect System (which we may call simply the Complete System) overlapping octave sections, each beginning on a different note, the Greek theorists found these to correspond in their intervals to each of the seven different modes, as follows: Thus all scales came to be thought of theoretically as transpositions of the corresponding octave sections in the Complete System (Foundation Scale). Indeed, the entire _system_ was considered as transposed and the individual tones retained their names regardless of pitch, i. e., in the Dorian mode the _mese_ would always be the fourth note from the bottom, in the Phrygian the fifth, etc.

As an example, let us transpose the Foundation Scale one tone above its natural pitch:

The middle octave will now be seen to be Phrygian (corresponding to No. 3 above) instead of Dorian as before. Now in their system of transposition scales (in reality transposed Complete Systems) the Greeks gave to every scale the name corresponding to the mode of its middle octave. Before the time of Aristoxenus only seven of these transposition scales, or keys ([Greek: tonoi]) were in use. That theoretician eventually rounded out the scheme to eighteen (of which six appear in modern notation as duplicates or octave transpositions). He did this systematically by taking the interval of the perfect fifth as a basis and building on each semi-tone degree a group of three scales (natural, hypo, and hyper). As there were not enough of the original modes to supply names for all of the new scales, it was, of course, necessary to invent arbitrary names for the superfluous ones. By this achievement it was possible to transpose a melody into any one of the eighteen (or really twelve) keys without changing its modal character. We may therefore assume with some justification that Aristoxenus’ system in a way did for the Greeks what our own equal temperament has done for modern music.

We end our brief sketch of Greek theory at this point, which may be assumed as the highest development of the system. Later systems were either based on Aristoxenus or were of reactionary nature. We must, however, for a moment retrace our steps to explain briefly the achievements of an earlier theoretician, the great philosopher Pythagoras, in the field of musical acoustics.

IV

Like many of the ancient philosophers, Pythagoras (_ca._ 600 B. C.) is known only by his disciples and by their quotations from or commentaries on his teaching. Of these the most important are Archytas (400-365 B. C.) and the great mathematician Euclid (_ca._ 300 B. C), though there is some reason to suppose the part of Euclid’s work dealing with music to have been written by Cleonides (_ca._ 200 B. C.) and by the later Pythagorean Nichomachus (_ca._ 150 A. D.).

In Hierocles’ Commentaries on the 'Symbols’ and 'Golden Verses’ of Pythagoras, M. Dacier, the translator, amplifies the prefatory Life of Pythagoras found in Hierocles, and he recounts, as Gaudentius, Nichomachus, Macrobius, Boëtius, and others have recounted, the incident which drew the attention of the ancient founder of the great system of secret numbers to the numerical relations of Sound in Music. The quaint old story is as follows: 'Pythagoras is honored with the Invention of Harmonical Measures; and ’tis related how it happened. They write, that one Day, after he had been meditating a long while on the Means of assisting the Hearing, as he had already found means of assisting the Sight, by the Rule, Compass, Astrolabe and other Instruments, and the Feeling, by the Balance and the Measures, he chanced to go by a Smith’s Shop, and heard several Hammers of different Sizes, beating Iron upon the Anvil. He was moved with the Justness of the Harmony, and going into the Shop, he examined the Hammers and their sound in regard to their Sizes; and, being returned home, he made an Instrument on the Wall of his Chamber, with Stakes that served for pegs and with strings of equal length, at the end of which he tied the different Weights, and by striking several of these strings at once he produced different Tones, and thereby learnt the Reasons of this different Harmony, and of the intervals that caused it.’

In general it may be pointed out that the Pythagorean system of harmonics was only incidental to philosophy. Thus Laloy, speaking of the musical system of Pythagoras, says: 'One finds, amid their confused accounts and contradictory assertions, a body of rules and precepts which present a “Pythagoric life,” as there was an “Orphic life,” in which justice, order, friendship, abstinence, geometry, and music are an integral part ... even metempsychosis itself being merely the truth inherent in a number.’

The monochord, a single string stretched over a sliding bridge, was the basis of the acoustical experiments of Pythagoras. By shifting the position of the bridge he varied the pitch of this string. His great discovery, that which has rightly caused him to be regarded as the founder of a branch of acoustics, was that between the respective lengths of stretched strings which gave the three consonances of octave, fifth and fourth, there existed certain essentially simple relations, as follows: the octave was in the relation of a string of one half the length or double the length; in other words, the relation of 2/1; the fifth was in the relation of 3/2; and the fourth in the relation of 4/3. These intervals, apparently on account of the simplicity of their mathematical relationship, were henceforth regarded as consonant. All other intervals were dissonant, at any rate in theory. The essential difference between the mathematical theory of sound ratios as held by the Pythagoreans and that held in modern times lies in the conception of the Third. To the Greeks such an interval was entirely dissonant, not necessarily because it was displeasing to the ear, but because they either did not recognize its ratio as 4/5 or did not deem this ratio to fit in with the highly abstruse theology they had built up on other numerical ratios. The step of the Fifth was to the Pythagoreans not merely the fundamental, but also the only, basis for the determination of tone ratios, whereas to-day the Third and sometimes even the Seventh are taken into account.

As to the value that Pythagoras attached to these fundamentals, we may quote Hierocles: 'Pythagoras,’ he says, 'has a very particular Opinion concerning Musick, which nevertheless the Masters of that Science, after they have duly weigh’d it, will find Just and Reasonable. He condemned and rejected all judgment that was made of Musick by the ear: because he found the Sense of Hearing to be already so weaken’d and decay’d, that it was no longer able to judge aright. He would have Men therefore judge of it by the Understanding, and by the analogical and proportionable Harmony. This in my opinion was to show that the Beauty of Musick is independent of the Tune that strikes the Ear, and consists only in the Reason, in the confirmity and in the Proportion, of which the Understanding is the only Judge.’ And he adds this remark: 'As to what he said, that the Sense of Hearing was become weak and impotent, it agrees with this other Assertion of his, that the reason why Men did not hear the Musick of the Universe was the weakness and imbecility of their Nature, which they had corrupted and suffered to degenerate.’

The error of the Pythagoreans, it may be pointed out, did not lie in the misuse of experimental data, but in the philosophical deductions therefrom. To the followers of Pythagoras a harmonic consonance was not a perception, it was a thing the existence of which could be conceived independently, a thing as real as the string which had given it birth. Sound was to them, therefore, a distinct identity, possessing attributes pertaining only to itself, yet susceptible of impression from without; it was a number realized and concrete, a number simple and all-inclusive, but, above all, a series of numbers possessing a personality, the veiling power of which both illumined and obscured a myriad symbolisms. Strict Harmonic Consonance was the utmost of numerical potency, it was a divine thought, not embodied Being. How deeply this was felt to be a truth by the Pythagoreans is evidenced by the story told of the death of Pythagoras, when the great philosopher, turning to his disciples, gave as his last instruction “Always the monochord!”

As for the value of the Pythagorean school as a whole, it is manifest that it must be considered as a group of mystical speculators, professing to be students of music and claiming Pythagoras as their master, but, in actual verity, doing little more than reducing sounds to air vibrations and ascertaining the numerical relations of pitch. Lovers of music they were not, they were mathematical precisians, perceiving no beauty and hearing no inspiration in melodic sounds except in such wise as these fitted into an ordered sequence of arithmetical form.

The development of the Pythagorean school was rendered all the more self-centred by the vitality and strength of the Empiricists. This flourishing school of musical art was concerned with arbitrary regulations as to the most acceptable forms of composition. The Empiricists determined what melodies were suitable to certain instruments. They debarred the flute from certain festivals and admitted it to others, they decided upon the forms of construction of musical instruments, and, above all, they insisted upon the performance of certain compositions in the traditional style. While not avowedly hostile to the Pythagoreans, the Empirical school paid little heed to the mathematical speculations of the learned, and song and dance continued because music was an art. Great as was the symbolic majesty of the Monochord, the surging strain of the lyre meant infinitely more to the life of Ancient Greece.

The second great development of Greek musical philosophy is that of Aristoxenus (b. 354 B. C.), whose systemization of the transposition scales has already been mentioned. If Pythagoras established some of the fundamental rules of acoustics, Aristoxenus may be given the credit of establishing Musical Science; the former was a branch of a science, the second was the science of an art.

To put the essential principles of Aristoxenus in the simplest possible form it may be said that he established two principal rules: (1) that music accepts Sound as sounds heard by the ear, and that the science of music must be built upon the foundation of sounds that are heard; (2) that sound-functions exist, possessing properties of sonance not directly reducible to any simple or elemental numerical ratio. The work of Aristoxenus was a revolution in musical philosophy based upon the principle of music as an organic whole of sounds bearing a dynamic relation each to the other. Aristotle had not been able to break away from the old Pythagorean conception, but Aristoxenus brushed away the misty speculations of morality, the mathematical entanglements and the musty formalism that surround the music of his time and set himself to answer the one vital question: Why does Music employ certain sounds and reject certain others?

The third stage of development of Greek music may be represented by Claudius Ptolemy, who lived in the second century of the _Christian_ era. He may, with considerable authority, be deemed the inventor of the first interpreter of the equal tempered scale. R. C. Phillips has thrown considerable light upon the disputed questions involved in this matter, and to his monograph on the 'Harmonic Tetrachords of Claudius Ptolemy’ (1904) we may refer the reader desirous of detailed information. Leaving the question of theory, we now proceed to pick up the thread of mythical story and trace what we can of the history of Greek composition.

V

All legendary references to the prehistoric era of Greek music point to its importation into Hellas by various artists, partly from the North (Thessaly and Thrace) and partly from the East (Asia Minor). In this we see probably nothing more than a racial recollection of the Dorian migration, which, as we know, took place about the year 1104 B. C. Orpheus, of whom we have already spoken, must be counted among the Northerners, the Thracians, for his native place was Pieria at the foot of Mt. Olympus. His pupil, Musaios, was supposed to have lived in Athens, and his son Eumolpos was the progenitor of the famous family of priests and singers which were entrusted perpetually with the rites of the Eleusinian mysteries, sacred to Demeter. Amphion, another of the Northern artists (the miraculous builder of the walls of Thebes), is described by Pausanias (Græco-Roman historian, 2d Cent., A. D.) as a relative of Tantalos of Lydia, and to have brought from there the Lydian mode. He is also credited with having increased the lyre from four to seven strings. Heraclides Ponticus calls him the founder of the _kitharœdic_ school of poetry, which was governed by a method and laws distinct from the _auletic_ school, associated with the aulos, the Grecian flute, from which it took its name. The regulation of the cult of Apollo at Delphi is ascribed to Philammon, whose son Thamyris, a native of the more uncultured regions of Thrace, was said to have challenged the muses to contest, and to have been punished for this offense with blindness.

Thus the North was, as we have seen, the home of the kitharœdic muse; Phrygia, on the other hand, must be considered as the cradle of the auletic school, of which the most prominent early names are Hyagnis, Marsyas, and Olympus, the three oldest players upon the flute. The first of these was said to be the inventor of that art. Marsyas was his son and first disciple, while Olympus introduced the art into Greece and became the first Hellenic master of artistic instrumental music.[38]

The first distinct period of musical composition is that of the _nomoi_ (_sing._ _nomos_; Gr. [Greek: nomos] = law), a certain type of melodies constructed according to fixed rules, which were sung as solos to verses whose subject was usually the praise of some god. (The singers performing them were known as _aœds_ and later as rhapsodists.) The earliest _nomoi_ were melodies of very simple structure, but from the first there is a distinction between the kitharœdic and auletic types, the first of which is supposed to have followed the Homeric hexameter (iambic metre), and the latter to have been based on the elegiac measures, offering, however, a considerable variety of rhythm.

The pioneer representatives of these two opposing schools were, respectively, Olympus, already familiar to us, and Terpander, both of whom belong to the seventh century B. C. Concerning Olympus’ art a startling assertion is found in Plutarch. He was regarded by Greek musicians as the originator of the enharmonic genus. Upon clearer examination, it has been found that this use of the word 'enharmonic’ does not coincide with the sense in which it is used above, where we explained the three _genera_ of tetrachords. The quarter-tone division is, indeed, a much later product and does not seem ever to have attained to great popularity. The enharmonic scale of Olympus simply consisted of the diatonic _with a step omitted_, so as to avoid all semi-tone intervals in the melodies. This elided tone was probably the Lichanos of the Phrygian scale ([Greek: harmonia]), or f, if we take the octave from d to d´ on the white keys of the piano. The Phrygian was naturally the scale used by Olympus, whose home was Phrygia, but he is also said to have introduced this 'enharmonic’ type of melody into the Dorian mode. When the full octachord came into consideration (originally the scale was limited to seven notes) the omission of the upper tone of the higher semi-tone interval (from b to c) followed as a matter of course. Thus Terpander’s 'enharmonic’ scale is seen to be simply a sort of pentatonic system, the antiquity of which is already evident from our examination of primitive music.

Little is known of Olympus’ life. What part of Greece he inhabited we are not told. It seems certain that he practised his art in the service of Apollo. About one hundred years before the beginning of the Pythic games at Delphi he composed a song describing the fight of Apollo with the dragon, which afterward became known as the _Nomos Pythicos_, and which, as we have seen, was regularly performed upon the first day of the Pythic festivals.[39]

Of Terpander, however, the first of the _kitharœdic_ nome writers, we have many isolated details, both of legend and fact. There is a story that the lyre of Orpheus was carried on the waves of the sea from the Thracian coast to Antissa on Lesbos, where Terpander was born. Orpheus is, indeed, the singer whom Terpander was said to emulate, while Olympus was supposed to follow the models of Homer. Terpander was the first victor in the Spartan _Carneata_ (festival in honor of Apollo), which began during the twenty-sixth Olympiad. This indicates his settling in Sparta, which is further confirmed by Plutarch, who in his _De musica_ calls him the chief representative of the first period in which Sparta flourished musically. Plutarch also records the legend that he successfully subdued a revolt of the Lacedemonians by the power of his music. To us the most important item of Terpander’s achievements is the addition of the eighth string to the lyre (_kithara_), thus completing the octave.

The next musician of extraordinary importance was Archilochos of Paraos, whose period has been fixed as 675-630. His popularity seems to have surpassed that of any other except Homer, with whom he was equal in the estimation of the ancients. His literary merit consists of the introduction into artistic poetry of the iambic and trochaic trimeter and tetrameter and the origination of the strophic form, by the alternation of shorter verses of different rhythm with longer ones. Similarly, his great _musical_ achievement is the introduction of rhythmical change and the use of faster time. In using shorter measures he endowed his compositions with a certain folk-quality which, combined with the element of satire and fable, quickly brought them into popular favor. Archilochos was a pugnacious, combative character; he had taken part in the wars on Eubœa and found his death in a warlike exploit on Nasos. His invective and satirical poems were a totally new departure in Greek poetry. A peculiar practice, which in a sense survives in the method of our musical comedians, was introduced by Archilochos for humoristic effect, i. e., the interrupting of the song proper by the spoken word, followed by a return to the melody after a brief instrumental interlude. This was known as _paracataloge_. Its use was later transferred to the serious ode and even the tragedy. A reference in Plutarch to Archilochos’ accompaniments 'under the vocal part, whereas the old ones sang everything in unison’ has aroused considerable controversy. We shall dismiss it with the well-supported conclusion of Riemann, that it does not point to any form of heterophony, but to certain methods of interluding, rhythmical ornamentation and playing in the upper octave (flageolet).

The strophic forms of Archilochos constituted the preliminary steps toward the development of lyric poetry, which, founded in the seventh century, 'raised its graceful structure in the sixth.’ Alkman and Stesichoros furnish the transition to this subjective school, whose disciples are essentially the celebrants of love and wine. According to dialects it falls into three divisions--the Ionian, Dorian, and Æolian. The last, rooted in the kitharœdic school of Terpander, finds in its Lesbian home its first exponents--Alkaios and Sappho.

Alkaios (625-575 B. C.), son of a noble family of Mitylene, composed no less than ten books of sacred hymns and drinking, love, and war songs, in which the predominating note is the hate of tyranny and the joys of the banquet. His contemporary, Sappho, whose verses are likewise full of passion and pathos, takes flaming love as her theme, and a number of other Greek women poets of the sixth century follow her example. 'The poems of Alkaios and Sappho are the most melodious of Greek creations.... Their fluent strophes, so easily subjected to musical treatment, have not only in antiquity but throughout a series of centuries been regarded as a fixed form’ (cf. the Odes of Horace). Ibykos and Anakreon, both living in the second half of the sixth century, belong to the same category. Both were wandering singers. The former is known to us through Schiller’s poem perpetuating the legend of the cranes; the latter is still a byword for the joy of life and the praise of love, wine, and song.

A group of auletic musicians living in the seventh century, to which belonged Xenokritos, Polymnestos, and Thaletas, is credited with new developments in the musical practice of Sparta, which were soon transferred to the other Hellenic states as well. This great and far-reaching innovation was the introduction of the choral dances.

The cradle of the dance was said to be the island of Crete. Thence came Thaletas, the most important of the group of composers just mentioned. His fame reached the Spartans, who summoned him to organize a _Pæan_ in honor of Apollo, in order to allay the pest,[40] and this inaugurated his extended activity in Sparta, where he introduced also the _pyrrhic_ ([Greek: pyrrhíchê]), a rapidly moving dance, and the _gymnopædia_ ([Greek: gymnopaidia]) festival dances performed annually in honor of those who fell at Thyrea. In the regular order of gymnastic dance education the last named were first, then came the _pyrrhics_, and finally the 'stage dances,’ including the famous _hyporchemas_--pantomimic dances--which doubtless were a development in the direction of the drama.

According to a description of Athenæus the _gymnopædias_ resembled the regular wrestling of the palæstra, for all the young boys danced naked and executed rhythmic body motions and responsive movements of the hands. The _pyrrhic_, which, according to Aristoxenus, was not an importation but of native Spartan origin, was a sort of war dance, which later, however, took on a bacchic character, rods and torches displacing the spears. It is recorded that marching songs, accompanied by rhythmic motions, were popular in Sparta from early times, and in the second Messenian war (685 B. C.) inspired the warriors to victory. The word _hyporchema_, defined as a pantomimic dance, 'in its narrowest sense signifies the pantomimic representation of the action described by the words’ (Athenæus, i. 15). The same authority says that 'while the chorus danced, it sang’ and that 'some of the hymns were danced and some were not, just as the Pæans were sung either with or without dancing.’ Among the hyporchemas are also included a great number of individual actions which made up the ceremonial of the great religious festivals and games, such as the gathering of the laurels for the victor, the garnering of the grapes, the bringing in of the tripod. To them belong also the so-called 'Prosodies,’ sung to the accompaniment of the aulos during the processional into the temple or the approach to and withdrawal from the altar. All choral dancing was of course closely associated with music. And, while the monodic forms of composition continued to flourish, choral music came to stand highest in the public favor. The charm of variety afforded by a combination of the two was, moreover, quickly recognized.

The development of this choral music was the particular mission of a school of lyricists no less celebrated than the Æolian--namely, the Dorian. It was considered the highest form of lyricism. Larger periods and great variety, instead of short and regular strophes, distinguish its form, while its spiritual import is correspondingly broader. The _hymnæ_ (bridal choruses); the _scolia_ (praising a celebrated personality), out of which grew the encomium (song of praise), and the _epinikion_, sung in praise of the victors at the great festival games, are said to have introduced the softer, subjective, essentially lyrical element into the chorus. The dithyramb, originally a Bacchic festival song in honor of the god of wine (Dionysos), represents the highest of lyric choral forms. It originated in Phrygia, was developed artistically by Arion, living at the court of Periander in Corinth (628-585 B. C.), but was cultivated principally at Athens, first through Lasos of Hermione. Arion was the first to assemble a large chorus--50 men and boys--forming a circle around the altar of Dionysos, with a flute player in the centre. Before him Tyrtæus (685 B. C.) was said to have originated the division of the chorus into three parts--'children, men, and old men’--but earlier than that we learn from Pollux of the partition of the chorus into two semi-choirs, which sang in responsive or antiphonary manner.

Simonides of Keos and Pindar are the chief figures of choral lyricism. The former, born on the isle of Keos (Ionia), lived first at the court of Hipparch in Athens, after whose assassination he went to Thessaly. After the battle of Marathon (490) he reappeared at Athens with an elegy upon the fallen warriors, which left him victor over Æschylus, the founder of the drama. He also won the dithyrambic contest in 471, and he died at the court of Hierons of Syracuse. The reproach of commercialism, made against Simonides because of his acceptance of favors and pay at the hand of rulers, reminds one of present-day criticism. In contrast to him, Pindar (522-448), the illustrious master, revered not less than Homer himself, was a retiring personality, 'living for himself rather than others.’ He was born at Thebes. His life story has been embellished with legend and fiction, indicating the nation’s affection for him. He participated frequently in the national festivals and, it is related, found his death on the stage of the theatre at Argos. His works combine no less than seventeen books containing hymns, pæans, dithyrambs, _parthenias_, _hyporchemas_, encomiums, _thernoi epinikia_, and other forms, all intended for choral performance. His first Pythic ode is among the six fragments of Greek music preserved to us.

We must now consider what is perhaps the greatest and the most original creation of the Greek mind--the drama. Its forms we have seen in lyric poetry and in pantomimic dances of the chorus, furnishing the elements of dialogue and representative action. These forms are to be found independently among other nations of antiquity, but their combination is peculiar to the Greeks, to whom the entire world is indebted for the art of the theatre. Like the dithyrambic chorus, whose close connection with the worship of Dionysos we have observed, the drama was perpetually associated with these Bacchic festivals. The very name tragedy (from [Greek: tragos] = goat) indicates its root form--the satyr play, executed by men disguised with fur skin and the cloven hoof to represent the votaries of the God. Here is added another element of the drama--impersonation--though earlier cases of it are seen, for instance, in the disguise of the poet Chrysothemis as the god Apollo, when performing his compositions. Allegory and symbolism were things to which the Greek mind naturally inclined. Mythological conceptions were often visualized, such as the favorite fight of Apollo and the dragon, the myth of Demeter and Persephone represented in the Eleusinian mysteries, etc. The word [Greek: dran] is the general expression for secret action in the Pagan cult, hence in the antique drama, no less than our own opera, we may recognize a sacred origin (cf. Chap. XI, p. 325). The dithyrambic chorus, whose members themselves are thought to have been disguised as satyrs, furnished the last preparatory step leading to the tragedy, which, it should be noted, gradually developed out of the non-choral sections, the solo speeches of the leaders.[41] Similarly, the Comedy had its beginning in the rather coarse witticisms of the choral leaders in the Bacchic processions of the Dionysos festival (cf. Aristotle, 'Poetics,’ 4).

The first real dramatist was Thespis, who, in 536 B. C., was summoned to Athens by the Pisistratides to produce a tragedy in which for the first time there appeared an actor outside of the chorus. It developed rapidly from then on--we need only mention the introduction of the comedy by Epicharmos (540-450) and its official sanctioning in Athens in 487. Phrynichos, the greatest dramatist before Æschylus, is remembered by the performance of the 'Fall of Milet’ for which, because it reminded the Athenians of their defeat, he was punished, and the political tragedy henceforth forbidden. The names of the three greatest tragic poets, Æschylus (525-456), Sophocles (496-406), and Euripides (450-395), are too well known to require comment. Our present task is simply to point out the important part which music played in their works. The parallel frequently drawn between the modern opera or music drama on the one hand, and the classic tragedy on the other, we may dismiss with the statement of Riemann, that 'the classic tragedy was a drama in which music as such coöperated, while in the modern (music drama) music occupies an eminently dominating place.’ We might add that, whereas we speak, for instance, of Wagner as being his own librettist, we might say of Euripides that he supplied his own music for his drama.

The three elements of modern opera--soloists, chorus, and orchestra--were, indeed, represented in the classic drama. The soloists were the actors (who _sang_ most of their speeches) and the chorus leader with his assistants, who were sometimes drafted to the stage proper, to take part in the action. The chorus consisted of fifteen members in the tragedy, twenty-four in the comedy. It was placed on a lower eminence than the principals (on the 'orchestra’) and represented at first (with Æschylus and Sophocles) the 'moral consciousness of the people.’ Later, with Euripides, its contemplative function was superseded by its actual participation in the action as a mob. It sang together--or _tutti_, as we would say--the _parados_ and _aphodos_, the processional and recessional choruses--for which the chorus was sometimes divided into sections, appearing one after the other, as, for instance, in the 'Seven against Thebes,’ and the _stasima_, interspersed through the action. The choral dance of the tragedy, festive and stately, was called _emmeleia_; that of the satyr play, grotesque and rapid, the _sikinnis_, and the lampooning, lascivious dance of the comedy, _cordax_. The 'orchestra’ consisted of one simple flute player, who used the double _aulos_. This was traditionally the characteristic 'orgiastic’ instrument. The kithara, despite its popularity in other uses, was never admitted to the tragedy. The chief function of the flute may have been to keep the chorus 'in tune,’ but it is certain that it played interludes, etc., and at times solo numbers, for we know that aulos playing had become a highly developed technical practice, and that aulos virtuosi achieved great reputations and were highly esteemed.

This leads us to the question of instrumental practice in general, the brief consideration of which is our next task.

VI

One of the most ancient musical controversies was that regarding the respective merits of wind and string instruments. How it resulted in a most important victory for the latter is revealed in the partly mythical story of Marsyas, a Phrygian satyr. According to this legend Marsyas found upon the banks of a stream a flute, probably the double flute, which Athena had thrown away because she feared that blowing upon it would injure her beauty. Being a satyr, and therefore not so sensitive upon the point of personal attractions as the goddess, Marsyas set himself to learn the use of the instrument, and, in course of time, grew so proficient that he challenged Apollo to a contest, the god to use the lyre, the satyr the pipe. Apollo played a simple melody, but Marsyas, following, executed a number of variations upon this tune which compelled the judge to admit that in the first test victory belonged to the satyr. Apollo then played again, accompanying himself with the voice, and this Marsyas could not surpass; he objected, however, on the ground that the voice and the lyre were two instruments, while he was using only one. Apollo retorted that Marsyas used both mouth and fingers for his pipe, hence he had the right to use his mouth as well. The judges agreed with Apollo and the second test was awarded to the god. But when the third test came Apollo scorned to use the voice, and burst out in such a strain of melody as even Mount Olympus had never heard before, the music of the immortals which no satyr could hope to compass. Marsyas was flayed alive by Apollo as a sufficient declaration of his defeat.

Thus the myth. It has its reflection in fact. For the ancient national music of the lyre prevailed in Greece over the foreign Phrygian double flute and the latter was regarded as a barbarian instrument, finding its place only in vintage festivals, bacchanalian orgies, and, finally, into the chorus of the tragic drama.

The lyre and the aulos, then, are the arch-types of the two great classes of instruments--string and wind--which the Greeks used. That there were a great number of varieties we gather from their representation on monuments, vases, etc., and from the writings of classic authors. Taking the string instruments as the oldest--for mythical references to these go farthest back into antiquity--we find first the lyre, and then its more graceful sister, the _kithara_ (or _phorminx_), which were in common use in the north, on the islands and the coast of Asia Minor. The lyre, originally made of the shell of a tortoise, had an arched soundbox, while the kithara’s was flat; the latter’s body was larger and more angular in shape. Both had originally four, subsequently seven, strings, which were added to in later periods till eleven was reached. These were fastened in a base at the lower end of the instrument and ran across a 'bridge’ to the cross-piece connecting the two arms, which acted also as tuning peg. The sounding board had in the centre a resonance opening.

By special technical practice the higher octave (flageolet) could also be produced. The manner of playing was probably as follows: The left arm held the instrument close to the body by means of a sling, while the right, by means of a plectrum with arrow-shaped ends, plucked the strings from the outside. This left the fingers of the left hand free to touch the strings from the body side. It is thought that this was done as accompaniment (in unison) to the voice, while the right played the solo selections, interludes, etc.

Most prominent among other forms of string instruments was the _magadis_, a larger harp-like instrument with twenty strings, which was played without plectrum, and, if we read ancient writers correctly, in octaves.[42] Likewise the _barbiton_ (similar to the _kithara_), the harp-like _pectis_, _simikion_, and _epigoneion_, and the lute-like _pandura_ and _nabla_ (of archaic origin), were played without plectrum, as indeed the lyre and kithara were also played in earliest times. The harp, though known to the Greeks, was not used by them. There only remains to mention the monochord, an instrument of one string stretched over a soundbox, which could be arbitrarily divided by a movable 'bridge.’ It was used purely for experimental purposes, as we have already seen. Later it was constructed with several strings in order to demonstrate the consonance of intervals; in modern times it became the basis from which the clavichord, and finally the piano, was evolved.

The chief Greek _wind_ instrument, as already indicated, was the _aulos_, or flute--not, however, a flute in the modern sense, but a reed instrument resembling an oboe, and having a double reed. It was often used in pairs, of equal intonation, but of different size, the larger instrument playing the soli, the smaller the accompaniment. The aulos had as many as fifteen or sixteen holes, but not sufficient to produce all the chromatic degrees of the scale, which, as well as the different _genera_, were produced by half stops and similar technical manipulations. There were also rings attached near the holes, by the turning of which the pitch could be altered. Overblowing was also practised, by means of a small hole (syrinx) near the mouthpiece. There was a whole family of _auloi_ corresponding to the varying ranges of the human voice. The entire compass from the lowest note of the bass aulos to the highest of the soprano was three octaves. It is recorded that _auloi_ were tuned differently according to the various modes, and that players were usually equipped with an entire set of seven.

Other wind instruments used by the Greeks were the Libyan flute (played sideways), the _elymos_, and the _syrinx_--the familiar 'pipes of Pan’--consisting of a number of rush reeds of different lengths fastened together with wax. Trumpets, straight (_sapinx_) and crooked horn-like (_keras_), were also common as instruments of war and priestly ceremony. The former variety even attained the rank of a contest (agonistic) instrument. A female exponent of Sapinx playing is recorded in the person of Aglais, the daughter of Megalocles.

* * * * *

A few words will suffice to indicate the nature of Greek musical notation. Instrumental notation differed from vocal and was of earlier origin. Characters of archaic form (Phœnician) were used to indicate the notes, though not in a definite alphabetic order. They are also used in inverted or distorted forms to indicate minute variations, i. e., the three notes of a Pyknon (the short step of the tetrachord) were indicated by a certain sign in different positions, thus: [music sign], [music sign], and [music sign]. In vocal notation the regular Greek alphabet was employed from Α to Ω to represent the notes of the middle octave (including every step necessary to the production of the various modes and _genera_.) The higher octave was indicated by an '_octava_ sign.’

Rhythm was usually not noted, being determined by the metre of the verse, but a code which determined the proportion of sound duration was sometimes used. The norm or unit in that system was denoted by the absence of any sign, its double by [music sign], its triple by [music sign], quadruple by [music sign], and quintuple by [music sign]. Rests were indicated thus: [music sign]. All of these signs were, like our modern notes, set _over the text_. While the system was thoroughly worked out in its technical details, its cumbersomeness would suggest that in practice it was of less use than in theoretical exposition. No wonder, then, that few compositions were, as far as we know, actually written down, and of those only six are preserved to us. These are as follows:

1. The beginning of the first Pythic ode of Pindar.

2. Three hymns of Mesomedes ('To the Muse,’ 'To Helios,’ and 'To Nemesis’) discovered by Vincenzo Galilei (see Chap. IX).

3. Some small instrumental exercises, analyzed by Bellermann (1841).

4. The Epitaph of Seikilos (discovered 1883).

5. Two complete Apollo Hymns of the second century B. C., found chiselled in stone in the Athenian treasury at Delphi.

6. A Fragment of the first _Stasimon_ from Euripides’ 'Orestes’ (found 1892).

The Hymn to the Muse by Mesomedes (No. 2) is reproduced at the end of this article.

This necessarily brief sketch will have acquainted the reader with the most salient facts concerning Greek music--lost as an art, but perpetuated as a science. Many volumes have been written upon the subject, but much more than these facts cannot possibly be adduced except by long and arduous study. For our present purpose may it suffice to convey to the reader that here for the first time music has attained the dignity of an art, with all its æsthetic, emotional and moral significance, with its complicated theory, its sophisticated technique, consciously employed to give pleasure and to uplift the mind of man. Mechanical limitations and peculiar conditions prevented the development of this art in the modern sense, but its theory has without doubt given a definite direction to modern music. Not only the musical teaching of the early church fathers, but the speculations of theorists down to comparatively modern times, and the principles of the Renaissance masters were based on those of the Greeks, however much misunderstood. Perhaps it is not out of place to recall, in conclusion, how modern composers have been inspired by the stories of classic antiquity and beguiled by the music of Greek poetry. Modern music, disconnected from all that may have been the music of the older nations of antiquity, is a lineal descendant of the music of the Greeks.

Άειδε Μούσά μοι φίλη, μολπής δ’ εμής κατάρχου, αύρη δε σων απ’ άλσεων εμάς φρένας δονείτω. Καλλιόπεια σοφά, Μουσών προκαθαγέτι τερπνών, και σοφέ Μυστοδότα, Λατούς γόνε, Δήλιε, Παιάν, ευμενείς πάρεστέ μοι.

C. S.

FOOTNOTES:

[32] Imitation ([Greek: monsikhê]) is a term commonly applied to the fine arts.

[33] Harmony here does not mean polyphony or heterophony, as will be seen hereafter.

[34] These poet-singers, indeed, _chanted_ their verses--perhaps not to fixed melodies, but according to a recognized style of cantilation which varied according to the different species of poetry, and was emulated by the readers or singers other than the bards themselves.

[35] The word harmony ([Greek: harmonia]) was used by the Greeks in the sense of melody and was the name given to the so-called octave species or modes of which we shall speak hereafter. (Cf. Aristotle’s 'Harmonics.’)

[36] The statement of Aristotle, that certain low-pitched modes suited the failing voices of old men, is misleading, as it assumes a fixed pitch for the modes, which at least in classic times they had not, and which was not their essential quality. It may be that in Aristotle’s time the ethical conception of modes had been lost and that they had all become practically transposition scales. But the theory advanced by H. S. Macran in 'Grove’s Dictionary,’ which gives each mode an 'intrinsic’ pitch character according to the high or low position of its _mese_, or tonic, is interesting. According to the laws of Greek music, this 'tonic’ must be the predominating or constantly recurring note in every melody.

[37] The b♭ is known to have been the first chromatic string added to the kithara, or lyre, thus enabling players to use several modes without tuning the instrument especially for them.

[38] The distinction of an older and younger Olympus which was made by Pratinas, the Greek poet and historian, is no longer credited. At any rate, the older (whom Pratinas places before the Trojan War) is the one to whom the chief merits accrue, and therefore the only one to be considered here.

[39] During the first auletic contest in connection with these festivals, which took place in 586 B. C., a certain Sakadas was awarded the victor’s wreath for the performance of another _Nomos Pythicos_, composed by himself, which, from all accounts, may be looked upon as a sort of program music, describing the event in realistic manner.

[40] The word Pæan (Gr. [Greek: paian]) originally signified physician. It was the name given to a choral address, usually of thanksgiving, to Apollo or Diana.

[41] Dithyrambic composition continued, of course, to flourish beside the drama, as did also the writing of nomes, but both were corrupted by the introduction of solo interpolations (in the case of the former) and choral numbers (in the latter), so that they finally approached each other in a sort of cantata form.

[42] Hence the expression 'magadizing’ for singing in octaves.