IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

*>s*

1.0

I.I

1.25

121 112.5

1^ liitt III 2.2
" 2.0

1.4

1.6

w»

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, NY. 14580

(716) 872-4503

^•N-^-

•ir^

"'9)'''.^ <"

«^V"-P

'<?)

f-2i^^

: V-..,

Q-

&?/

f/j

Lfe

>-t

! V

ir*!

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHM/ICMH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut canadien de microreproductions historiques

Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques

The Institute has attempted to obtain the best
original copy available for filming. Features of this
copy which may be bibliographically unique,
which may alter any of the images in the
reproduction, or which may significantly change
the usual method of filming, are checked below.

L'Institut a microfilm* le meilleur exemplaire
qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details
de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-dtre uniques du
point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier
une image repro<iuite, ou qui peuvent exiger une
modification dans la m6thode normale de filmage
sont indiqu^s ci-dessous.

r^ Coloured covers/
l/Sj Couverture de couleur

[3
D
D

Covers damaged/
Couverture endommagde

Covers restored and/or laminated/
Couverture restaurde et/ou pellicul6e

Cover title missing/

Le titre de couverture manque

D
D
D
D

Coloured pages/
Pages de couleur

Pages damaged/
Pages endommagdes

Pages restored and/or laminated/
Pages restaurdes et/ou pellicutdes

Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/
Pages d6color6es, tachet^es ou piqudes

□ Coloured maps/
Cartes gdographiques en couleur

□ Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/
Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire)

Coloured plates and/or illustrations/
Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur

D
D
D

Pages detached/
Pages ddtachdes

Showthrough/
Transparence

Quality of print varies/
Quality in6gale de I'impression

Bound with other material/
Retid avec d'autres documents

Includes supplementary material/
Comprend du materiel suppl^mentaire

Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion
along interior margin/

La reliure serr6e peut causer de I'ombre ou de la
distortion le long de la marge int^rieure

Blank leaves added during restoration may
appear within the text. Whenever possible, these
have been omitted from filming/
II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajout6es
lors dune restauration apparaissent dans le texte,
mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont
pas 6t6 filmdes.

□ Only edition available/
Seule Edition disponible

Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata
slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to
ensure the best possible image/
Les pages totalement ou partiellement
obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure,
etc., ont 6X6 film^es 6 nouveau de fapon d
obtenir la meilleure image possible.

Additional comments:/
Commentaires suppldmentaires;

This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/

Ce document est film6 au taux de rdduction indiqu6 ci-dessous.

lOX

14X

18X

22X

26X

30X

19«

IfiX

20X

24X

28X

32X

The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks
to the generosity of:

Library of Congress
Photodupiication Service

The images appearing here are the best quality
possible considering the condition and legibility
of the original copy and in keeping with the
filming contract specifications.

Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed
beginning with the front cover and ending on
the last page with a printed or illustrated irnpres-
sion or the back cover when appropriate. All
other original copies are filmed beginning on the
first page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, and ending on the last page with a printed
or illustrated impression.

The last recorded frame on each ^'c^o^'che
shall contain the symbol -► < "meaning CON-
TilMUED"), or the symbol V (meaning EIMO ).
whichever applies.

Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at
different reduction ratios. Those too large to be
entirely included in one exposure are filrried
beqinning in the upper left hand corner, left to
right and top to bottom, as many frames as
required. The following diagrams illustrate the
method:

L'exemplaire film* fut reproduit gr&ce d la
g6n6rosit6 de:

Library of Congress
Photodupiication Service

Les Images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le
plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition at
de la nettetd de l'exemplaire film6, at en
conformit6 avac les conditions du contrat de
filmage.

Les exemplaires originaux dont la couvartura an
papier est imprimde sont film6s en commenpant
par ie premier plat et en terminant soit par la
dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impression ou d'illustration, soit pa. le second
plat selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires
originaux sont filmds en commenpant par la
premidre page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par
la dernldre page qui comporte une telle
empreinte.

Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la
dernidre image de cheque microfiche se on le
cas. le symbole — signifie "A SUIVRE' . le
symbole V signifie "FIN".

Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Stre
film68 d des taux de rdduction diff6rents.
Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Stre
reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 d partir
de I'angle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche A droite,
et de haut en bas. en prer.a?jHo nombre
d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants
illustrent la mdthode.

"^Cf^lclj ^^Oi."

THB

"SCRATCH CLUB"

By H. a. Clarke, Mus. Doc.

Professor of Music, University of Pennsylvania.

'K .:j<\

THE POET-LORE COMPANY,
223 South 38TH Street,

PHII^ADELPHIA.

^2*4., iuw a

t\LGO ^^.|

_ 1
IV

H. A. CLARKR.

To C. E. CLAGHORN, Esq.,

Dear Sir : Y'oii arc in a measure responsible for this
book, mucli of wliicii lias groivnfrom a suggestion of yours,
I have ilierefore taken tite liberty of inscribing your name at
t/ie liead of it, in aeknoxctcdgmcnt not onJy of tliis — but of
many kindnesses. It also seemed to ine appropriate, tliat a
book leliieh is in some degree a re licet ion of " professional'^
opinions on musical matters, should bear the name of an
amateur so ivell known to be in hearty sympathy ~a'ith all
that is best in the Art of Music.

Yours Sincerely,

H. A. CLARKE.

CONTBNTS.

Introduction^ 7

FIRST KVKNING.

Discussion on Organ Music and Fugues 9

vSECOND KVENING.
The rower of Music for Expression. Crabbe and Parks

Analyze the " Aurora" Sonata '^

THIRD KVENING.
Discussion of Church Jlusio, and Music in the Public Schools, 20

FOURTH EVENING.
Dr. Goodman Reads an Old Sermon, 27

FIFTH EVENING.
The Relative Merits of Vocal and Instrumental Music, ... 34

vSIXTH EVENING.
Musical Prejudices 4°

SEVENTH EVENING.

Crabbe Reads a Translation of an Egyptian Papyrus 45

EIGHTH EVENING.
Acoustics and Music. Crabbe Announces His Discovery of a

Theory of Color Harmony, 52

NINTH EVEN'ING.

More Discussion on Vocal and Instrumental Music, 59

(5 )

I ;

6 The "Scratch CIk/k"

TKNTII I'VKNING.

Hazel Reada an Allegory, (,»

EI.EVKNTII KVIvNING.

Opera — Acting, and Rlusic 75

t\vi-:li-th kvkning.

Herr Scbuabel Enliven* the rroceedinxs 80

THIRTI-KNTH KVKNING.

Discussion on Musical Memory— Dr. Coodman Tells a Story—

Crabbe Tells Another, 84

FOURTKKNTII ICVKNl NG.
An Attack on Tenth rate Musicians, and a Rhapsody on

Genius by Crabbe qq

FIFTKKNTH K\'KN1NG.
Parks Astonishes the Club with a Satirical Poem 106

vSrxTEKNTH KVKNING.
Mr. Bullyer and Parks' Friend, " Fred," Air their Views, . . in

SEVKNTKKNTII EVENING.

Dallon Reads a Strange Story, 115

KIGHTKRNTH KVKNING.
A Discussion on General Musical Taste, and on International

NINKTEENTH EVENING.
Dr. Goodman Tells a Story about a Stradivarius Violin, ... 133

INTKODIICTION.

lis a Story —

hapsody on

106

^iews, . . in

116

iternational

12?

olin, ... 133

IT has bfcii tny privileKc, durint; the past winter, to be admitted
as a listeui'r, at the meetings of certain of my musical friends,
at which they (k vote themselves to the playing— <>r, as Ihcy call it,
the "scratchiuK" -of iiuarti-ltes, (luintet.s, and like compositions
of the best writers. I am one of that uumerous class who, while
possessed of no musical knowledge, and (my professional friends
mii;ht say) very little nnisicnl taste, yet. can extract a j^reat <leal
ol" pleasure from heariuj; my frienils' performance. Rut my chief
reason for attending so assiduously at their reunions is, that, being
of a somewhat philosophical turn, I lierive a great deal of instruc-
tion and amusement, from the discussion of subjects connected with
their art, with which they always finish the evening, with the ac-
companiment of ft cigar and a modest glass or two of beer. It oc
casionally happens, in accordance with an understanding they have,
that, one of their number will read an essay on sorae musical sub-
ject. They allow themselves large latitude in the interpretation
of this understanding, admitting villingly anything— sketch, story,
or what not, provided only that its subject is, in some way, con-
nected with music. These gentlemen, although all professional
musicians of acknowledged ability, and high standing, are yet,
only amateurs on string instruments ; still, their large musical ex-
perience and knowledge enable them to play with a thorough un-
derstanding of the requirements of this kind of music, that is
beyond the reach of mere amateurs of the art. The first violin —
]\Ir. Dalton— a pianist of some repute, is a middle-aged gentleman,
an uncompromising admirer of the classical C,erman school. The
second violin — Mr. Parks— teaches singing, is possessed of a very
good tenor voice, and has a strong leaning towards the " Italian
Opera" school of music, for which leaning he is sometimes rather
rudely snubbed by his older companions. lie is the youngest of
the party. The viola (or Tenor as musicians love to call it;, Mr,

V-.

The " Scratch Club:'

Crabbe— is somewhat of an original. He is past the prime c*^ life,
indeed, might be called an old man — has travelled extensively, i.s
familiar w ith all musical "schools " — and an admirer, without fear
or favor, of what commends itself to him as " good music " in all.
He is apt at limes, to be rather severe on those who are not gifted
with a like Catholicity, and will at times give vent to the most
outrageous and heterodox opinions, greatly to the exasj.eration of
the first violin, and of the violoncello. This last gentleman— Mr.
Hazel— is an Englishman. All of his enthusiasm is bestowed on
Handel. He compares all musicians with him, and all suffer by
the comparison. In short, he has that profound reverence, for
Handel that is characteristic of nearly all English— men and
musicians.

The discussions are often enlivened by the occasional presence
of others, some players, some, like myself, only hearers ; notably
by the presence of the Rev. Dr. Goodman, an Episcopal
clergyman, with an enthusiasm for good music, and a grea. love
for a lively discussion. Although totally ignorant of music, his
native shrewdness and trained reasoning powers make his remarks
always worthy of attention, while his exceeding good nature and
his polite deference to the opiniona of the "«xperts" have
endeared him to the quartet, which never seems quite itself when
his genial, kindly face is absent.

As to myself, I never join in the talk, preferring not to expose
my ignorance to the scorn of the first violin, or the sarcasm of tiie
viola. My share has been to make mental notes of the conversa-
tions, which I have attempted to reproduce, not without first
obtaining the permission of my friends, for what looks somewhat
like a breach of the rules of hospitality. I only gained their
consent by representing to them that the music-loving public might
gain something by getting a glimpse of the way in which musicians
talk about music. With this introduction, I will retire to my place
as a listener, and let my friends speak for themselves.

THE AUTHOR.

le prime o'' life,
I extensively, i.s
rer, without fear
1 music " in all.
o are not gifted
Mit to the most
exasi.eratiou of
jenlleman — Mr.
is bestowed on
id all suffer by
' reverence, for
^lish — men and

sional presence
earers ; notably
an Episcopal
lid a grea. love
It of music, his
ake liis remarks
jood nature and
«xperts " have
lite itself when

; not to expose
sarcasm of the
f the conversa-
it without first
ooks somewhat
y gained their
ig public might
chich musicians
ire to my place
es.
AUTHOR.

FIRST EVENING.
Discussion on Organ Music and Fugues.

CHlv fiddles are put away, the cigars lighted, and the
beer glasses filled. The talk .soon falls into its usual
channel. After some desultory remarks, critical and com-
mendatory, on a recent organ concert, in which our Kng-
lish friend, who is, liy the way, a first-rate organist, took
part, the clergyman, backed by Violoncello, waxed en-
thusiastic on the subject of organ-playing, lauding it as
superior to all other instrumental nuisic, and .so on. This
brought out Viola, and the following conversation en-
sued :

Crabbe. Oh, well, organ-playing is doubtless a very clever
thing, and a very difficult thing to do well, but, after all,
it is nothing but good machinery ; a machine would do
it not only as well as, but better than the best organi.st.
With all other instruments the case is quite different.
They all respond more or less to the mood of the player ;
the skilful u.se of the bow, the touch, the breath, produce
infinite varieties and .shades of expression, but on the
organ you can but put down the key and the pipe will
.sound, and et-ery sound is just the same in force and
quality as e\ery other one on the same stop, barring the
slight difference produced by that clumsy contrivance
you call a "swell." In short, the organ has no expres-
sion.

Dal ton. I know but little a])out the organ, but it strikes
me that must be the reason why tiie movements from

(?)

The " Scratch Club"

symphonies and sonatas that organists so often play are bO
unsatisfactory to one who is familiar with their effect
when given bj- the instruments for which they were writ-
ten.

Crabbc. Certainly it is ; these things depend for their
effect on delicate shading, an impossibility or, at best, a
caricature on the organ.

Dr. Goodman. Won't you tell us what you think the
organ is good for ?

Hazel. To play organ music on. Handel, Bach, Rink
— that's the music for the organ.

Crabbc. Then why do you organists try so often to
make it sound like a bad orchestra, or woisj brass band ?

Hazel. We organists, like other men, must .sometimes
give up our own nations, to cator to t'.ie taste, cr rather
the lack of taste, of those who p ly us for playing.

Parks. Won't someljody enlighten me as t ) what gor d
organ music reallj^ ought to be ? I must confes; to a lik-
ing for the things Crabbe and Hazel so unsparingly 011-
denui. I have heard some of the melodies from the Ital-
ian opera —

Crabbc. Pshaw ! Hercules working with the distaff.

Parks. Why ? I don't understand you.

Crabbe. Never mind, just now. I am going to answer
your first question. Good organ music is of two kinds :
first, the even, passionless sounds of the instrument are
admirably suited to slow, massive' successions of chords ;
second, to the tangled, intricate devices of contrapuntal
writing, particularly fugues, provided they are not p'ayecl
too fast, as is apt to be the case \\ith so manj^ organists,
who seem to be more concerned to exhibit their dexterity
than to produce the effect intended In' the composer.

Hazel. It is the only instrument for fugues.

Dallon. It is at least better suited to fugues than the

The " Scratch Club."

ifteii play are t.o
ith their effect
:hey were writ-

?pend for their
y or, at best, a

you think the

iel, Bach, Rink

ry so often to
'se brass l)and?
lUst soinetimcs
taste, (,r rather
playing.
s t ) wl:at goc d
:onfesi to a lik-
ispnringly con-
s from the Ital-

h the distaff.

jolng to answer

of two kinds :

instrument are

ions of chords ;

Df contrapuntal

' are not p'ayed

nany organists,

their dexterity

composer.

Lies.

ugues than the

orchestra is. I could never find any pleasure in listening
to an orchestral fugue. It is like putting Pegasus to work
in a brick machine, to tie down this mighty power for
expression to such mechanical work.

Hazel. I think you go too far. Won't j-ou make an ex-
ception of, say, for example, the overture to "Elijah"?

Dal/on. Well, yes. It is one of the exceptions that
proves the rule — from its rarity. It is truly a wonderful
combination of a formal style, with the expression of in-
tense emotion.

Crabbc. Don't you think that the form, in this case,
helps the expression of the emotion the composer wishes
to depict? The gathering murmurs of the hungry,
thirsty, wretched people are easily represented by the re-
curring themes of the fugue, and the increasing volume
of sound from the gradually augmented orchestra.

Dalton. Perhaps you are right; but the genius of the
composer is shown in his knowing how to use these fac-
tors to the best advantage; above all, by the restless, ex-
cited charav^ter of the themes he has chosen.

Parks. I am glad for one to hear that expression of any
kind can be got out of a fugue. I have always thought
they were things that some musicians pretended to like,
just because nobody else did; and it gave them an air of
superior knowledge or taste, or whatever it may be.

Crabbe. Ah ! Parks you have something to learn yet ;
the opera does not exhaust the possibilities of music.
Have we not actually succeeded in making you enjoy
quartets ! Perhaps, after some ages of transmigrations,
you, even you, may come to find some beauty in a fugue.

Parks. I am more than willing to wait —

Crabbe. Comfortable in the belief that music has never
produced anything grander than the "Aria" and " Caba-
letta " of your favorite authors.

The " Scratch C/iil?."

Dalion. Crabhe, you always seem to ignore tl:e fact
that there are other Italian writers besides the opera-
niaker.'^.

Crabbc. Who arc they ? since Palestrina.

J\jrks. Why ! Rossini, \'erdi.

( rnbbr. Olu\ jam satis !

/\ii/.-s. Well, I ha\-e heard you admit, when you forgot
to he ill natured, that Rossini had genius and that \'erdi
had made some great advances.

Crabbe. Humph ! a bad'y digested meal of Wagnerism.

Parks. Oh.comenow ! Didn't vou say once that "Aida "
gave promise of a healthy new life in Italian opera?

Crabbc. I take it back; I have given up prophesying.

I fa-el. Don't you think the prospect hopeful?

Crablu\ Why: from "Aida" to " Mephislofele ? No.

Dr. (ioodnian. We l)egan with organ-playing and —

Crabbc. Have reached the devil.

Dr. Coodvia)!. Hush! don't interrupt me; I want to ask
a question. Von and Hazel say that the organ is particu-
larly suited to fugues because it has no expression, and
yet yoci all admit or imply that a fugue may have ex-
pression. How is an ignorant layman to reconcile these
contradictions ?

Crabbc. I have been wondering, Doctor, what made you
fall into a brown study some five minutes ago.

Parks. I don't .see any difficulty. A fugue for the organ
must be what these gentlemen call organ music. If for
other instruments, it must 7wt be organ music.

Crabbe. Profound ! What a gift it is to be able to go
to the bottom of a matter like that ! vSo lucid, too !
Hasn't he let a flood of light on your ignorance. Doctor?

ITa-cl. Parks is not so far out as you pretend to think.
As a rule, the fugue is less a matter of expression than of
construction. It may have emotion, it must have a car-

ta
tc
n(

oi
ji

(Jl
cc
ca
th
I I
ha

di:
go

th
sii

thi
de

th(
tai
wa
rej
(
lit]
tlu

in^
toi

The " Scratch Clnhr

ire tl:e fact
the opera-

1 you forgot
I that \'erdi

Vagnerism.

uifAida"

opera ?

iphesying.

il?

"ele ? No.

g and—

want to ask
1 is particu-
■ession, and
ly have ex-
ancile these

it made yon

)r the organ
sic. If for

? able to go
hicid, too !
ce, Doctor?
id to think.
;ion tlian of
have a cer-

tain formal construction ; if it has the former, it is suited
tc instruments that are capable of giving expression ; if
not, it IS suited to the organ.

Dr. Goodman. I think that all your iiustrumental fugues
must give way to the vocal fugue. When I hear an in-
stnnnental fugue, I am lost after the subject or theme,
or whatever you call it, is given out ; all the rest is a
jumble of .sound. Occa.sionally I may hear the tliLine
struggling to break through. vSometimes it tries to swim
on the top of the jumble ; sometimes it tries to dive and
come out below it ; but all the other parts chase it franti-
cally and choke it off, until, with a final crash, it gives up
the struggle. But when 1 hear a good choir sing a fugue.
I can hear the theme every time it comes in, because it
has the words to help me recognize it.

Crabbe. Talk of a jumble ! What can equal that pro-
duced by four parts, singing different words ! I have a
good idea. How would it do to let the part that has the
theme be the only one to sing the words, while the others
sing la-la ?

Hazel. A great jiart of the effect of a fugue depends on
the words that are .set to it. Look at the fugues in Han-
del's oratorios.

Dalton. Some of them are certainly the finest things of
the kind ever written, but a great many are just as cer-
tainly very tedious. It seems to me that they should al-
ways be sung to such words as a large crowd would keep
repeating.

Crabbe. Like the name of a popular candidate at a po-
litical meeting—" Mulhooly for ever," with " Down with
the ring," for a counter subject, eh ?

Dalton. A base illustration, but it expresses my mean-
ing. Now your idol, Handel, is the best one I know of
to go to for examples. Take the chorus, ' ' And He shall

Scratch Club."

purify," in the " Messiah; " of course the construction is
very fine, and so forth, but what sense or artistic propriety
is there in saying these words over and over again, ex-
cept they be looked on as a mere excuse for an elaborate
fugue ? Or, take a worse example, the chorus, ' ' And
with His stripes we are healed," in which words with
very painful and solemn associations are repeated until
they lose their meaning. Now for an example of the
other kind, what I call good words for a fugue, take
" Blessing and honor, glory and power," or that splendid
chorus in "Judas," "We never will bow down." In
lx)th we have presented to us the idea of a vast assembly
moved by one impulse or emotion to repeat, in one case,
an ascription of praise ; in the other, a determined pur-
pose to a certain course of action.

Crabbe. It is a pity Handel didn't stop that last chorus
you cited, after the choral, "We worship God;" what

follows is somewhat of an anticlimax, and spoils the ef-
fect.

Hazel. Crabbe, why don't you re-write the classical

composers ?

Dr. Goodman. Daltoh, I can't help thinking that your

view is the right one ; it commends itself to what you

have called " artistic propriety," which, I take it, is only

another name for common sense, applied to matters of art.
Hazel. I would be sorry to lose -all the vocal fugues

that don't square with his rule.

Dalton. So would I. I only meant to give my views of

what the vocal fugue ought to be to get the fullest effect

of the form.

Crabbe. There is one kind of vocal fugue sanctified by

the custom of the "classics," that is, to me, intolerable.

I mean the "Amen" fugues that so many oratorios,

masses and cantatas drag after them like a cumbrous tail.

The " Scratch Club:'

instruction is
itic propriety
er again, ex-
an elaborate
lorus, ' ' And
I words with
epeated until
nnple of the

fugue, take
that splendid

down." In
•ast assembly
, in one case,
ermined pur-

it last chorus
God;" what
spoils the ef-

the classical

ing that your
to what you
ike it, is only
natters of art.
vocal fugues

'e my views of
; fullest effect

sanctified by
e, intolerable,
my oratorios,
;umbrous tail.

Parks. Like a fair mermaid, with fishy continuation.

Crabbe. ]5e quiet ! Vou can't improve on my meta-
phor. What can be more senseless than this long-winded
reiteration of "Amen " after the story, or plot, or musical
interest has ended ?

IIazti:i would be sorry to lose the "Amen" chorus
tliat ends the ' ' Messiah. ' '

Crabbe. f )f course you would • but I am sure tliat every
candid, unprejudiced hearer luist kt-l that the "Oratorio "
ends with "Blessing and honor." This is the climax;
artistic propriety requires that it should end here.

Dr. Cioodiiiaii. The design of this oratorio being to
show forth, first, the promise of Messiah's coming ; then,
his humiliation; and, finally, his U-iumph. When the
last point is reached the interest has culminated ; any-
thing added is impertinent and superfluous.

liazcl. Poor Handel ! How I wish he had had the
advantage of your criticisms. I wonder how much of
the "Messiah" would be left after you wise men had
eliminated all tiiat does not fit your ideas of artistic
propriety.

Crabbe was about to make some reply when Dr. Good-
man rose to go, sriying, that the discussion had interested
him so much that it had kept him far beyond his usual
hour. The rest followed his example and the party
broke up.

Pl:i-

SECOND EVENING.

T/ir Pozver of Music for Expression. Crabbe
and Parks analyse the ''Aurora " Sona/a.

no one was present as audience but the writer. The
talk was about the " power of musical expression "
and projrramnie nuisic, and took a turn that brought out
Crabbe to the astonishment of his friends, as follows :

Crabbe. As a rule, all attempts to describe or interpret
music by lanjruage are failures. vStill, I have often been
struck with the openness with which certain compositions
seem to lend themselves to verbal interpretation. One of
the best examples I know is that great sonata known as
the "Aurora " by Beethoven. The three movements of
this sonata give three differing aspects of the opening
day. In the first, we have its grandeur, the mighty rush
of the chariot of Apollo, surrounded by the flying Hours,
darting his far-reaching arrows, slaying the python
Darkness, conquering Krebus ; the idea is the same as
that portrayed in Guido's glorious fresco. The second
movement conveys the mysterious aspect of the dawn,
the slow, noiseless spreading of the- dim light stealing
gradually from hilltop to hilltop, now tinging with tender
blush some vanishing gray cloud, now gilding the cross
of some tall spire, while solemn darkness still lingers at
its base— the mystery of light overcoming darkness— the
myth of Eos. The last movement is, the joyous awaken-
ing of nature to the new day, the song of birds, the
cheerful rural sounds, the songs of light-hearted hinds
who "jocund drive their teams afield," or lead their
( 16 )

flc

lif

nil

int
iiit
sei
nu
(le
v\v
sel

W(J
lo

llu
ex

cai
we
his
res
I'ai
un
his
(lis
nid
No
mil
lar
cat
hill

The " Scratch Club:'

»7

Crabbe
Sofia/a,

vriter. The
.'xpression "
brought out

follows :
or interpret
i often been
onipositions
on. One of
a known as
avements of
;he opening
mighty rush
ring Hours,
the python
he same as
The second
f the dawn,
;ht stealing
with tender
iig the cross
11 lingers at
rkness — the
msaw^aken-
f birds, the
arted hinds

lead their

Hocks over the dew-spangled, widespread downs. It is
life renewed and refreshed after the death-like trance of
night.

Omnes. Oh ! Oh ! !

rarkx. Let's make a Daltoncsque fugue on "oh
an adecpiate expression of our feelings.

nalloii. Such a burst of eloquence from such
• euthusiasmus damper," as Schnabel would say.

Parks, (who has long waited an ojjportuuity to " pitch
into" Crabbe). I don't agree with you at all in your
inUri)retalioii except that in general terms it does repre-
sent dincreiit asi)ects of the dawn. Xf)w, to me, the first
movement represents the rising with the sun of the jovial
(let us Call hiui) farmer, anxious to get through the day's
chores, calling to his rleepy household to bestir them-
selves and " shake olf dull sloth " and "catch the early
worm," and so on. The myth, " Karly to bed and early
lo rise, make a man healthy, wealthy and wise." But
the most wonderful exhibition of the artist's .skill is
expended on the second movement, short as it is. What
can it mean but the slow awakening of the farmer's boy ;
we see the gradual dawn of consciousness stealing over
his drowsy face, his cavernous yawns are skilfully rep-
resented by the extended arpeggios, with intervening
pau.ses towards the end ; the ritardando portrays his
unwillingness to move, but knowing well the futility of
liis desire to linger, the genius of the composer is again
displa\ed by his proceeding without a close to the last
movement, as, fully aroused, the boy .springs from his cot.
Now, you are right in saying that the last movement is a
nuisical i)icture of rural .sounds, but you should particu-
larize more. It is all very pretty, to talk of "lowing
cattle standing knee-deep in sweet meadow grass," or
hinds "driving their teams afield," or the " distant

///<• •' Siiuihli Club."

.1 1
1^^

blealinK on hcalhcr-cla<l hills." Hut you wilfully ignore
a larKf, iu fuel, the laiK^-r part of the rounds that make
up a rural morning, because, I supp.ise, they won't ht
with " a.listic propriety " into your rhapsody. Hut why
should von not hear the solemn l.ass of the venerable
porker, 'and the shrill, youthful treble of the hungry
"shoat," as well as the " m.uving " of the cows, or the
self-satisfied cackle of dame parllet, who has achieved the
matutinal egg, as well as the distant " baa " of a sheep.

/Ar.r/. What are we coming to ? Crabbe an enthusiast
and Parks a satirist. What next ?

Oid>/>r. I'very one gets from music only what he brings
to the hearing of it. To me it suggests poetical images.
Your mind. I suppose, doesn't rise ai)ove pigs and

ehickeiis.

/?a//(»t. Parks, you haven't made much by your elabor-
ate onslaught.

Par/.s. I have made all I wanted. I didn't say these
things were suggested to me. I only say, why should
they not be, as well as Crabbe's poetical images ?

CraMr. Well, there is really no reason against it.
Music has no defining power ; it only suggests vaguely.

//azr/. You are evidently not a believer in descriptive

music.

Crahbf. Decidedly not. It is nonsense to say that
music can describe, wiien it. is necessar)- to write a pro-
.rramme to tell vou what it is meant to describe. It is
simply begging the questi.ni to say that the programme
is only a guide to the listener, to tell him what emotions
he is to call up. as though emotions were like organ stops
that can be ' ' drawn ' ' at will. The programme is an ad-
mission that the music is unequal to the task. If music
can describe one thing, why not another ! If a storm, or
a ship sailing— in six-eight time of course— why not the

/■//,• " Si-nitilt C'/ii/>."

ilfuU) ij^nore
Is that make
ilic-y won't fit
ly. Hutwliy
lliL- venerable
the luin^ay
: COWS, or the
s acliieved the
" of a sheej).
■an enthusiast

,vhat he l)rin^s
letical images.
)ve pigs and

)y your elabor-

dn't say these
y, why sliould
nages ?

an against it.
gesls vaguely,
in descriptive

ie to say that
to write a pro-
:lescribe. It is
the programme
what emotions
.ike organ stops
■aninie is an ad-
task. If music
If a storm, or
sc — why not the

conduct of a diimer part> ! with, let us say, a maestoso
for the brass, to "suggest" roast beef; a p.issionale
tremolo on the strings f<ir the entrees; a hurried move-
ment on the unsatisfactory bassoons lor the clearmg of
the table, with epi.sodes for the triangle and cynd.als to
represent the occasional breakage of a glass or plate;
tne cold "blue" tones of the llnte for ice cream; the
mellow chalameau of the clarionets lor the wiues ; by
Liszt! I will write such a symph(.ny, with a punted
"menu" on while velvet for a programme, and will
wager that mv music will describe so well, that il the
audience cmie hungry they will not be " se.-t empty

away."

Pa/foi. Vou forget the soup.

C'rabte Oh. I will begin before the soup with :i move-
ment for twentv-four kettledrums, a la Herlio/., to repre-
sent feelingly the emptiness of the guests ; then a Inpud
melody for the soup.

Ha.^c/. I'm oil. now you've got to talking nonsense.

Good night,

Crabk'. Wait! A counterpoint between llie bass
trombone and piccolo, to represent the combined strength
and sparkle of the champagne-another luut from Ber-
lioz, onlv he uses it in his " Re<iuiem " to represent the
groans of the lost and the careless, happy whislhng ot

the blessed.

Hazti. Come, Dalton. He is outrageous.

THIRD I'A'fCXIXO.

Discussion of ( IiiikIi Music ami A/nsic in the
l*nhlic ScliDols.

CMIv talking was (lone chiefly l)y Dr. Gdodiiiaii, Cral)he,
and Daltoii. Tlic Doctor, wlio luis a j;ivat notion for
the teachin); of innsic in the pnhlic schools, asked inaiu
([iiestions, to jjet at the \ icws of his i)rofessional friends.
Kroni nui.sic in schools to nutsic in cluirches was an easy
transition. The talk brought out many remarks that
appeared to me worth setting down.

Dr. Ciwdiiitvi. I am -,orry that you all seem disposed to
throw cold water on my pet notion of " music in the pub-
lic schools." Do you really think it is impossible to haw-
it well taught there ?

Dallon. \ot impo.ssible ; but nearly so. The first dif-
ficulty is to secure capable musicians as teachers. It i.. a
fatal mistake to suppo.se that an\- one who can read vocal
music is, tlierefore, fitted to teach it. Another great dif
ficulty, at least in (V/r public schools, is the lial)ility of
teachers to all sorts of " oflk-ial " interference from people
connected with the "school system." But apart from all
such considerations, I do not believe that an.\- progress
worth the trouble and exjjense can be made without a
selective process. All people are not musical ; all chil-
dren can not be taught to .sing. There is such a thing as
having " no ear" for music ; and there is enough of bad
singing in the world already without spending labor and
( 20 )

(
tea
tee

OIK

or
mil
rec
i'H

th«

po
no
an

Tc
thi
thi
un
wi
an

///,' " S,i;t/,/{ C '/h/>."

sh in the

nan, CrAhho,
at notion for

askud many
onal friends.

was an easy
cniarks thai

1 disposed to
• in llie pulj-
siblc tt) liavv

rile first dif-
lers. It is a
n reail vocal
ler K'eat dif-
.' lial)ility of
from people
Jart from all
ny proj^ress
le witlionl a
al ; all chil-
li a tliin;^ as
JUgh of had
ig labor and

money to inaki' more, hy trying to teach rhihlroii with
nninnsical organi/atioiis to sing. The only way is: get
a good miisieian ; pay him well ; let liiiii alone ; let him
sift out all the ehildren with neither ear nor %'oicc ; — the
result will he worth having.

Crahbf. I have never yet heanl a school class sing in
wliieh there were not sonu- who growled away on oa-
note, or sang a fonrth or fifth helow the melody. Wiio
ever heard a school class sing as well as the worst hoy-
choir ? I never did.

Dr. (ioodiitaii. Do not certain jirofessed trainers of rliil
dren's singing classes claim that all childien can he
taught to sing, if the process is comnieiicid early enouL;li ?

Crabbc. Oh, yes! There are people who say they cm
teach any one to sing who has vocal chords, tongue, and
teeth. Ikit defend me from such singing. I suppose any
one with hands and eyes may he taught to dauh canvas
or spoil iiiarl)le ; hiit is it worth while? Then wh\ try to
make ])eople sing, to whom nature has denied the lirst
requisites? As Dalton says, there is enough of h.id sing-
ing in the world already.

Dr. (loodotan. You gentlemen may be right ; hut don't
they have music taught successfully in the .schools of
many of our cities ?

Dalton. If we may believe the newspapers, or the re-
ports of school-boards, yes. Hut I have never heard it.
nor have I ever met a capable niusiciaii who has heard
any school-singing that possesses the least artistic value.
To vary Crabbe's idea, put toget' '.-r all the choir boys in
the city, and you will get a chorus such a- no school in
the country could furnish. The comi)ariso-.i may seem
unfair, but when you consider that three month's training
will make a boy, with ear and voice, a good choir-singer,
and three years in the public .school will not make a pro-

The " Scratch Club."

niiscuous class sing half as well, the apparent unfairness
vanislifs.

Ilanel. Perhaps the amount of time devoted to practic-
ing may have something to do with il.

Dalfoii. That inequality vanishes when you take into
account the difference between th. difficult anthems sung
by the one, and the simple, generally stupid, little songs
sung by the other. No ! the difference is to be found in
the fact that, in the one case, boys with voice and ear are
trained by a good musician, and in the other, a crowd,
many of whom have neither voice nor ear, are mistrained
by a pi;rson lacking all the necessary qualifications.

Dr. (joodinan. Well, it is evident to me that you mus-
icians are "down" on music in the schools unless it
should be taught in the way you have indicated, which
is, I fear, at present, and for some time to come, too Uto-
pian to hope for. To change the subject, let me hive
some of your views on church music ; how can we make
it better- ?

Crabbe. Oh, forbear I The subject is too hopeless. I
only know one way ; that is, convince all i people to
whom Providence has denied a correct ear and a good
voice, that it is an indication that Providence does not
consider it tluir duty to sing, also, all those who have
good voices and ears that it is their duty to learn to sing
properly — a labor that Hercules himself could not per-
form.

Dr. Goodwan. We all know we can expect no help from
such a pessimistic growler. What do you say, Dalton ?

Dal ton. The improvement of church music can only be
attained by a process that would reach through several
generations. It would have to begin in the schools, sup-
posing it were possiljle to have music taught there in the
way I ha\'e indicated. If children were taught to appre-

)parent unfairness

[(-■voted to practic-

en you take into
:ult anthems sung
tupid, little songs
is to be found in
voice and oar are
le other, a crowd,
ar, are mistrained
talifications.
lue that you mus-
schools unless it
: indicated, which
to come, too Uto-
)ject, let me have
how can we make

3 too hopeless. I
all 1 people to
t ear and a good
jvidence does not
I those who /lave
ty to learn to sing
;lf could not per-

:pect no help from
ou say, Dalton ?
music can only be
I through several
I the schools, sup-
lught there in the
e taught to appre-

liic " Scnitch C'lih."

ciate good music — I don't mean classical nuisic, that bug-
bear of the ignorant — Init music of a more refined class
than the negro minstrel song, or the vulgar comic opera
melody ; also to appreciate the difference in style that
will make one kind of music appropriate for secular, an-
other for sacred purposes, we might hope in time for the
growth of a healthy popular taste in clunvh nuisic.

Dr: Coodiiiaii. Won't you explain wiiat you mean by
" appropriate style " for each kind of music ''

Dalton. In secular music, beauty and ai ti.stic cKcellence
are the prime objects to be sought. In sacred music tliese
tilings should be carefully subordinated, or kept out of
siuht altogether. It should be characterized bv fervor,
not passion ; dignity, not dramatic f)rce; simplicity, not
ornateness ; above all, it should never descend to mere
prettiness.

Cnibbc. O shades of Phillips and .Saukey I and ye ! ye
innuinerous hosts of composers and coinp>ilers of .spiritual
songs, who sweep up "melodies" from the coulisses cf
the variety tiieatre and the " temples " of uegnj minstrel-
sy, where will be your occupation should this ever be?

Parks. Crabbe declaims like " Pythoness possessed."'

Dr. Goodman. He does injustice to a ve.>- worthy and
useful class of writers ; men who have a' complished great
good in their waj-.

Crabbe. Oh, I thought our object was to find out how to
improve church music, not to decide as to the amount of
good any class of men have done.

Dallon. It is a subject I approach with diffidence ; but
I think it is doubtful if the emotions roused by such
music are of a nature permanently to affect their subjects.
However, l)e this as it may, there can be no doubt that
dignity and grandeur better become public worship than
' eentimentality and maudlin sweetness.

The " Scmich Club,"

Dr. Goodman. Why is it that the Romanists and my
high church and ritualistic brethrcMi have so nuicn better
music than any other churches ? It seems as if" the nutsic
Rrew worse in proportion to the tlieological freedom of the
cliurch.

/hi/loii. I think this can he easily accounted for. In
proportion as the conduct of pu])lic worship passes out of
the control of the educated it deteriorates. Now in *.he
churches you .specified the clergy have the sole control of
every part of pulilic worship, and they are prepared for
their work by a .special training, of which the study of
music forms an important part. Hence they not only
recognize the fact that nutsic is an important part of public
worship— this all pretend to do— but they art on their be-
lief, and spare no pains or labor to make the music woi ihy
of its high mission.

Crabbe. vSpoken like an oracle. Now for the other
churches.

Italian. All other denominations and shades of denom-
inations are culpal)ly remiss in this matter. They pre-
tend to attach great importance to tlie nnisical part of
their ser\aces, but never take one step towards making it
worthy or appropriate. In their colleges for training
ministers the study of music is ignored as a trifling occu-
pation more befitting "worldlings " than men engaged in
the serious business of religion. In their churches the
music is left to the control of what -is called the " nuisic
committee "—men who may possess every gift and grace,
save a little knowledge of the affairs they are supposed to
administer.

Crabbe. Oh, it would upset the patience of Job, the non-
sense talked about music— the coolness with which ignor-
ance praises or condemns. Your music committee will
call " St. Ann's," " London," or " Dundee " stupid, old-

ttmmtL^-

The " Scratch Club:'

iiists and my
) imitii better
s if the music
reedora of the

iited for. In
passes out of
Now in '.lie
)Ie control of
prepared for
the study of
liey not oidy
part of pul)lic
/ on their l)e-
nusicwoi 'ly

3r the other

es of denom-
. They pre-
sical part of
ds making it
for training
trifling occu-
n engaged in
churches the
1 the ' ' music
ft and grace,
! supposed to

fob, the non-

which igtior-

mmittee will

.stupid, old-

fashioned, pokey, and go into raptures over " When the
swallows" or ' Robin Adair," converted into good Chris-
tian tunes. The authors of a long line of glorious Scotch
and iMiglish psalmody must make way for the namby-
pamby .sentiment and clap-trap jingle of — well, I won't
say who; there are .so many it would be invidious to
name one. All musicians know whom I mean.

Dr. C,oodina)i. Why don't the organists tr>- to bring
al>out a better state of affairs ? Surely it would be possi-
ble for the choir-master and the minister to work together
harmoniously for such a ]>urpose.

Hazel. Would it? If the minister is a wise man he
carefully leaves the music to the committee, confining
himself to vague generalities about " congregational sing-
ing" and " plain choral music," and so on. If he is not
wise, he takes sides with the committee, and he and they
look on the organist as their natural enemy ; a sworn foe
to everything "pious" or "'spiritual" in church music.
If he is very foolish, he will take sides with the organist
and attempt reforms, with the certain lesult of pulling a
hornet's nest about his ears.

Dr. Coodnian. I am ashamed to sa>- that I belong to
what you call the wise cla.ss. I am mortally afraid of
both organi.st and conunittee. I am sure my organist is
a good musician, and has very just and proper notions
about church music. IJut the committee seem to regard
him as .some .sort of a dangerous animal that nui.st be
closely watched and constantly snubbed, lest he should
scandalize the church by some unimagined innovations.

Crabbe. Or dance them all to perdition, like the " pied
piper of Hamelin." I think your committee do well to
be watchful. Who can tell what "heresies, false doc-
trines and schisms," glazed over with good music, like
sugar-coated pills, an emissary of the evil one in the shape

" Scnitrh Chibr

of an organist, might administer to the unsnspecling
flock ?

Ha~d. O bosh ! be serious. It seems to mc thai it
never occurs to a committee that it is possible a nuisician
may have juster notions about the proprieties of public
worship than even they. Many people seem to think that
when a man becomes a musician he forfeits all claim to
the possession of common sense in all other affairs of life :
is, in fact, a sort of inspired idiot.

Crabbc. Don't you think a good many musicians act in
a way to give color to such a belief?

Daltou (indignantly). No; there is no class of men to
whom so much injustice is done in jiopular ajiprehension.
People at large class all musicians, from the educated
gentleman to the mere fiddler or hornblower. together.
Who does so with lawyers, or doctors, or even with shop-
keepers? I am sure that, take the highest class of resi-
dent nntsicians in any of our large cities, you will find a
class of men that, for general intelligence and informaticm,
will compare more than favorably with any other class in
the connnunity. I am sure the conversation of half a
dozen musicians is far more intellectual than that of the
same number of brokers or merchants, whose souls have
no ideal beyond cent, per cent.

Hazel. Come, come, Dalton ; you are getting warmer
than there is any occasion for. All sensible people are of
the same opinion, and the opinion of the Philistines is not
worth minding.

Dr. Goodman. We have wandered far from our subject,
which is to me at least a very interesting one ; but I am
afraid it is too late to resun^e it. I mean to think it over,
and at some future time will have a lot of questions to
ask. Good night.

it:

c unsuspecting

to nic that it
iihk- a nuisician
ietic'S of pu1)lic
:m to think that
;its all claim to
;r affairs of life ;

nusioians act in

class of men to
r apprehension.
11 the educated
lower, together,
even with shop-
st class of rcsi-
, you will find a
md information,
ly other class in
nation of half a
than that of the
hose souls have

getting warmer
ble people are of
Philistines is not

rom our subject,

g one ; but I am

to think it over,

of questions to

FOURTH EVENING.

Dr. (roodmau Reads an Old Sermon.

DR. (iOODMAN made his appearance this evening,
anned with a volume, and in response to the inqui-
ries of the club as to its contents, replied : " It is a volume
of sermons by an Ivuglish Nonconformist divine of the
last century. There is in it a sermon that would, I think,
entertain you. It appears to have been called forth by
the visit of llaydii to London in 1790. The good man
seems to have thought it his duty to warn his people
against t)ie .seductions of the concert room in moving
terms. If you wish, I will read some of it after the even-
ing's music." This being warmlv as.sented to, the Doc-
tor, after the " scratching," read as follows :

" Dear brethren, you will find my text for this morn-
ing's discourse in the third chapter of the prophet Daniel,
part of the ftmrth and the whole of the fifth versL's, where
you will read as follows : ' It is commanded, at what time
ye hear the sound of the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut,
psaltery, dulcimer, and all kinds of music, ye fall down
and W()r.sliip the golden image that Nebuchadnezzar the
king hath setup.' My subject naturally divides itself
into the following heads : I'irst, the occasion on which
this vast assembly was gatliered together : second, the
instruments of music mentioned in the text ; third, the
use of instruments of music in public worship ; lastly, the
use of instruments of music as a means of an. n^ement or
dissipation.

" Figure to yourselves, my hearers, a large open plain

(2;)

The " Scratch CM."

- i

or meadow, green with the early growth of grass, bright
with the blossoms of blooming flowers. The fervid sun
of the eastern elime is slowly rising above the distant hori-
zon, but what is the sight his blessed beams reveal?
What is the meaning of this dense array, this gathering of
the nuiltitudes, this mighty concourse of interested spec-
tators? The serious, awe-struck faces forbid the notion
that it is a gathering of merry-makers, a parade of plea-
sure-seekers; but look! what is this that rises proudly,
towering above the i)lain, glittering in the moniiiig sun-
beams, awful in its mute-menacing, mysterious grandeur?
'Tis the image of burnished gold, the god of Nebuchad-
nezzar, the vile idol of unbelief, the unclean thing that
King Nebuchadnezzar has set up in his pride to affront
the fair face of day with its hideous assumption of divin-
ity. Look ! Why turn the faces of the multitude, with
eager glances, all one way? Behold I in all his glory, in
his pride, in his wraitonness, in his blazing golden chariot,
surroutided by a glittering throng of courtiers, forth rides
Nebuchadnezzar, the lord of Babylon, to .see with his own
eyes that the decree he made, in the lust of absolute
power, that all should worship the golden image, is
obeyed.

" My theme to-day forbids tha*; I should dwell on the
heroic conduct of the dauntless vShadrach, Meshach and
Abednego, though it were far more congenial to contem-
plate than the subject on which I nuist enlarge ; sweeter
far it is, dear brethren beloved, to dwell on tiie actions of
the just than to explore the devious doings of those who
depart from righteousness. But needs nmst be that the
watchman on the wall gives timely warning to careless
dwellers at ease in Zion ; and in our day the ever-wakeful
Enemy, lying in wait for souls, taking on him.self the foiin
of an angel of light, in the eyes of some who, having
eyes, see not, — he, I say, has beguiled many un.stalile
souls, by sweet strains of .sounding brass and tinkling
cymbal, and has invaded even the sanctuary with the cor
net, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer, and all kinds
of music, until our places of swe;;t conununion have come
to resemble the plain of Dura in everything but the golden
image. Let us, my hearers, be found with the Shadrachs,

tl
fi

l"(
ti
ti
o
ii

\\
n
d

P
n

P
g
tl
n:

P'
b

ft
o1

t£

k
ni
ol

(li

P:
fi;
tl

?'
iz

?rass, bright
c fervid sun
distant hori-
anis reveal ?
gathering of
crested spec-
d the notion
ade of plea-
ses proudly,
iiorniiig sun-
is grandeur ?
f Xclnichad-
n thing that
de to affront
ion of divin-
Ititude, with
his glory, in
Iden chariot.
s, forth rides
with his own
of absolute
n image, is

dwell on the
Vieshach and
il to conteni-
"ge ; sweeter
le actions of
of those who
t be that the
g to careless
ever-wakeful
iself the foiin
who, having
iny unstable
and tinkling
with the cor-
md all kinds
)n have come
Lit the golden
e Shadrachs,

The " Scratch Chib.'

the Meshachs, the Abednegos, protesting even unto the
fiery furnace. But list ! a herald in gorgeous garments is
preparing to .speak. The murmurings of the multitude
sink to silence as, with haughty step, he ascends the plat-
lorm whereon the golden image rests. He takes his sta-
tion and, in stentorian tones, delivers the royal proclama-
tion to the a.s.sembled peoples, and tongues' and nations,
commanding them to bow down and worship the golden
image when they hear the sound of the cornet, flute, harp,
sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer and all kinds of music.

"Before proceeding with this scene, we will, in a few
words, discu.ss the nature of the instruments of music
mentioned in the text, from which we may perchance
draw some instructive lessons. TlK>e instruments are of
several kinds : instruments with strings i)lucked by the
fingers, like unto the ' la.scivious lute ' spoken of by the
play writer (whose works none of you, I trust, read ; the
reading of such books being necessar^• only to the com-
plete furnishing of the Christian mini.ster, taught and
guided by grace, that he may be the better fitted to con-
trovert the insidious evils they inculcate). Next, instru-
ments blown by the breath, which is the life of man that
perisheth. Ah ! why should he waste this precious
breath, which is his life, in blowing seductive sounds
from the instruments of his own devising, in piping that
others may dance? Next, we have v.hat the heaven-
taught apostle u.ses as the figure of all that is most worth-
less, the '.sounding bra.ss and tinkling cymbal.' Can we
not recognize here, beloved, in this train of instruments
of music, doubtless .set down by the prophet for our in-
struction, an antitype of what the devotees of the world
and the flesh— I had almost added, of the devil — in our
day call an orchestra. Good reason have they to feel
proud of the origin of their orchestra. Its inventor, its
first patron was the good-despising Nebuchadnezzar, and
the first recorded orchestral performance took place on the
plain of Dura, some two thousand j^ears ago, and signal-
ized the setting up of a hitherto unknown form of devil-
worship. Ah ! it behooves us to look carefully into these
carnal gratifications, these ticklings of the fleshlv ear.
Can a thorn bring forth figs ! Can an association of vag-

The " Scratch Ciub."

I'll

rij

abonds, of reprobates, as it is too well knowji al. these
fiddling and piping musicians arc, bring forth works meet
for repentance, or help to raise the burdens Irom sin-
laden souls, discourse they n 'Ver so sweetly with their
cornets, and sackbuts, and psalteries, or, as we would
say, their flutes, their fiddles, their hautboys? I do vio-
lence to your sanctified understanding, dear brethren, in
asking such (luestions, and will now resume the main
thread of my discourse.

" What was the occasion for which this motley array,
this gathering of the lees, this convocation of the men of
Belial, this orchestra was gathered together? Our text
is explicit on this point. It was to add to the imposing
solemnitv. It was to lend the aid of sweet sounds to the
pronuUgation of a Iving faith. It was to temper by its
tuneful softness, to awe by its blatant noisiness the hearts
(if the i)eople to accept a neW religion ; or, on the other
hand, to rouse by its vigorous strains the enmity of the
carnal heart tovvard all who might hesitate to fulfil the
mandate of the king. And how it succeeded in both
these offices we know too well. Of all that countless
throng but three stciod erect, and they were three despised
Jewish captives. And again.st them the people raged and
the countenance of the king grew dark. Who shall say
how much of this was traceable directly to the strains of
these emissaries of the iCvil one, these diabolical dis-
coursers of dulcet sounds, this orchestra ? See to it then,
ye who grow rapturous over the strains of Haydn and
Mozart, that ve are not partakers of the sin of Nebuchad-
nezzar. Let the great ones of the land, in whose houses,
at whose feasts, are the harp, the viol and the lute, see
to it that thev add not to their condemnation, that they
have spoken fair and hugged to their hearts these ])esti-
lent purveyors of sounding symphonies, with their rabble
rout of pipers and fiddlers, all the spiritual descendants of
the king of Habvlon's evil crew. Oh, n.y .soul is moved
to her depths when I see the thoughtless people throng
the gates that lead to the concert room, to listen with
feigned estasies to the strummings and thrummings of a
Havdn or a Mozart, the while they treat with light scorn
the' sweet sougs that we raise, ' making melody in our

riu " ScraUlt Clu/i."

wn al. these
1 works meet
us troin siu-
y witli their
IS \vc would
> ? I do vio-
bretlireii, in
lie the main

lot ley array,
)f the men of

? Our text
Llie imposing
lounds to the
emper by its
ess the hearts
on the other
nniitv of the
; to fulfil the
;ded in both
lat countless
iree despised
pie raged and
.'^ho shall say
he strains of
labolical dis-
ee to it then,

Haydn and
)f Nebuchad-
'hose houses,
the lute, see
on, that they
5 these ])esti-
1 their rabble
escendants of
oul is moved
)eople throng
listen with
minings of a
;li light scorn
lelody in our

hearts,' if not in our lips, as we pour forth with untaught
fervor our hvnuis of praise, trusting alone to the instru-
ment with which the Creator has gifted us, unpolluted by
the accompaniment of the cornet, llute, harp sacklml,
psalterv, dulcimer, organ, or any other ot the many
kinds (")f music. As saith the poet Burns, Inmsell I tear
nmegeneratc. 'perhaps ' Dundee's' wild warbling meas-
ures rise, or noble ' lUgin ' l)eats the heavenward tlanie.'
What piping of llutes,' or groaning of organs, or rasi)ing
of fiddles can give any delight to the earnest soul that
breathes her praver in ' Dundee's wild warbling meas-
ures,' or bits her'voice heavenward in jmiise on the wings
of 'noble Ivl.gin ' ? Hut 1 weary you and will pass on.
Man is a composite creature, ])ossessed of three avenues
through which temptation may as.sail him : the avenue of
the tlesli, the avenue of the spirit and the avenue ot the
will. The first is the path by which enter all the h)wer,
coarser forms of temi)tation ; the second is the ])ath ])y
which enter all these more refined forms of temptation,
to which tlie world gives the name of fine arts to fulfil
their scml-destroying mission, by diverting the affections
from the more serious spiritual affairs of life. Now,
doubtless, Nebuchadnezzar had in his employment many
eminent music composers who strove with each other to
.secure his favor and countenance by catering to this
sensual love of fine art, which he doubtless possessed in
an eminent degree ; it l)eing one of the things that those
in everv age wdio desire to be distinguished above their
fellows', or who fill exalted stations, look upon as a
crowning proof of their gentler nurture. lie, then,
knowing full well the power of this profane music on the
unregenerate heart, acted with the wi.sdom of the children
of this world, when he chose it as the signal for this act
of idol woiship. He was deeply skilled in the human
heart and knew that the m'> -al nature of the hearers l)eing
undermined bv its apjjcals, they would be the less likely
to offer resistance to his ccnnmand, to worship the jiro-
duction of a sister ' fine art.' Ah ! how true it is, if the
door is opened to one evil, a legion swarm in. This will-
destroying, soul-unnerving music opened the door, and
was forthwith followed by the idolatrous bowing, and

^Jtm

Thr" Scratch CIii/k

this by tlic loosing; the evil jiassions of ra^c- ai.d hate
a^ainsi thesleadlast Hebrew children, Shadiaeh, Meshaeh
and Abedncyi). "

/v. (iooiiinaii. (I will skip iiis denunciations of music
\i\ church and i>roceed to his exordium).

■' Heloved, I iiave been led to make these remarks by
tile arrival of one in owx mid>t whom the whole world
wonders after, calling him a divine i^eiiius. insjjired, and
I know not what else. 1 allude to the (,"iennan musician,
Haydn, who is sojourning for a sjjace in this, the modern
Halnlon, to hear whose music the vain people, ever
weariless iii their search after some new tiling, thronj.;
nightly to the concert room. Tnie, we lia\e no plain of
Dura in our midst, with its visible, pali)able image of
gold set up : but we have a worse image in our hearts,
the love of being thought more refined and ' cultivated.'
as tlie phrase is, than our fellows, peojde of taste, peo])le
of fashion. How many deluded souls Ixiw down to this
grim idol, moved thereto by ihe stnuns of this modern
musical magician ; how many, though loathing in their
secret soul this horrid mixture of groanings and S(|ueal-
ings, and soul-affrighting sliocks of sound, called a syiu
phony, I believe, yet vvitli smiles, profess their love for it,
and thus bow down, fearing the scorn and laughter of
their associates ! Brethren, I look with fear on these
things and would affectionately warn you lest you enter
into temptation. Go not near, slop your ears and ily lest
ye be taken in the net. Look abroad and .see the moral
(larkness that settles, deep as night, on those lauds where
])rofiine music is most cultivated. The infidelism of
(lenuany, the impiety of France, the superstition of
Italy ; then look at our own hai)py land, with quiet vSab-
baths, made vocal with the sweet notes of psalms, hymns
and spiritual songs. Would ye lose, wimld ye barter
away these things? No ! then beloved hearers, shun the
concert i-oom ; look on the siren sound of sackbut and
psaltery as an invitation to bow in false worship. Would
ye have music ? Sing iwalms, raise your voices in sweet
accord ; but beware these flutes and fiddles. Finally, let

lis

inc
lioi
fiec:
sus
hea
the
afti
.sen
swi
out

/
vat
esti

/
as t

L
res]
wit
peo

jiot

(
wh(
all

/
thii
har

L
moi
wic

I
ami
to 1
to t

The " Scratch CM."

ji;e ai.fl hate
ih, Mcsliacli

ms of music

rciiiprks l)y
wliok- world
iisj)irc(l, and
an musician,
, the nioderu
|)ei>ple, ever
lin^, throng

no j)lain of
)le iuiaj.';e of
II our hearts,
' ciiltivated.'
taste, |)eo]>le
li)\vn to this
tliis modern
iiin>^ in their
^ and s(|ueal-
alled a syni-
ir love ibr it,

hiughter of
L*ar on these
;st you enter
s and fly lest
ee the moral
! lands where
infidelism of
]K'rstition of
Lh quiet vSab-
alms, hynnis
Id ye barter
ers, shun the

sackbut aiid

hip. Would

)ices in sweet

Finally, let

us all search our hearts to discover if we have any secret

inrliiiation .ind fleshly longing for these sinlul gratilica-
lions. What deep longing oi' man's nature can l)e satis-
fied l)y the notes of a fiddle? Can a hnn^;ry soul fnul
sustenance in the tones of a Hute? or a broken heart he
healed by the j^roaning of a grumlio? [an old name for
the violoncello]. No, these things can feeil no aspirations
after a higher life ; but while they soollie with soft and
.sensuous sweetness, surely send us, with ever-increasing
swiftness, down that W(H.'ful way that hath its end in
outer darkness."

Dr. Goodman. Hut enough of the reverend gentleman's
vaticinations. Von see, though, how yon nnisicians were
esteemed bv some worth\ people of the last century.

nallo)!. I fear that kind of people is not yet as extinct
as the dodo.

Cnibbi'. I had no idea that the orchestra was of such
respectable atiticpiity. Quite likely it was not original
with that grazing monarch. I .shouldn't woiuler if tlie
peojile marched away from the tower of Babel with bands
— " of sackbut, ])saltery " — and so on.

J/arjii. The old gentleman had a great opinion of the
])Otency of music, to saj* nothing of its malevolent effect.

Crabbe. What a curious tendency the human mind has,
when under the influence of one set of ideas, to look upon
all others as useless if not wicked.

Dr. Goodman. Ah, well, after all, it is a very difficult
thing to decide how much of the world's amusement is
harmless to the jirofessed seeker of another world.

Crabbe. There are too many crooked, cross-grained
moralists to whom the very word amusement savors of
wickedness.

Dallon. Kvery one ought to decide for himself what
amusements he can allow himself without deterioration
to his morals ; if only he would stop there and not try
to make all the world cut their cloaks by his pattern.

wam^HUtimmmmk

(»' ; 1.

The '•Smitih Club."

Dr. CooJnian. True, (l..ul)lk'>->, l«iit llic iiUL-stiun ol
charily sUps in t<> modify this riuht ; after scttlhiK the
first point, every man sh<ml(l ask himself, " What amuse-
ments can I indulK*-- myself in witlinnl ^ivinK lause i)f
olTciicc to weaker men .■• "

Crabhc. Oh, han^ the weaker vessels 1 they always
han^ like millst(mes ahout the necks of the stron^j.

Parks. I don't think yoii have ever let yourself play
"Sinhad" to any of thes; "ol 1 men of the sea."

Dr. (ioodinan. OCrahhe! what a jmor opinion any one
would have of yon who built it upon your own account
of yourself.

Crabbc. Doctor, you mollify me. I was about to
sciuelch that venomous Parks, who never loses an oppor-
tunitv of barkiiiK :»t me.

na.fl. Like the little dog behind the fence at the big

dog in the street.

Parks. Thank you, Hazel ; I'll pay you for that.

Dr. Coodnian. Come away, come away, l)ig dogs and
little dogs, or you will all be snarling at each other pres-
ently.

FIFTH BiVENINCx.

The Relative Merits of Vocal and fnstntmeutal

Music.

CHlv discussion this evening was of a fragmentary
character; many subjects were started, but none
held the attention of the party long. Nevertheless, I
have made some notes which I think will bear publica-

tiol

reh
Th

the

llill

Ilia
ecu
po\
pla
<
Crc
wa
art
for
po'
tic
liai
ma
tin
am
ins
po
ex

wi
I c

sic

su
by
nu

.' 4Ui.'StioJi ol
r SL'ttliiiK the
What amusc-
\iii^; i-ausc ol

Hay always
J stroiiK-
youist-lt phiy
e sea."

|)inion any one
t own account

was al)out to
OSes an oppor-

•ncc at the big

for that.
l)ig dogs and
ach other pres-

nstnimeulal

a fragmentary
rted, but none
Nevertheless, I
11 bear publica-

Thc "Smitcfi Clubr

,^5

lion. The first subject to call out any ;irguincnt was the
relative sujicriority of vocal ami instrumental niiisic.
The Doctor and Parks took the >idc of vocal, Dalloii,
of instrumental, ami Crabbc, sometimes one sometimes
the other, as his inclination or love of opposition led
him.

l)t . (iooiiiihiii. N'olhing sow can say will convince me
that any mere con-.truilioii of wood, catgut or wire, ca,.
etpial the instruuRiit dcvisid b\- the Creator, in ijuality,
power or exi)rcssion. Why do instrumentalists sa>' of a
player that he makes his instrumenl sing or talk ?

Ciahlw. I am afraid your respect for the works of the
Creator may bias your judgment somewhat. The only
way to judge of the comparative merits of the natural and
artificial iuslrumeuts is, to look on each as a mechanism
for the production of simtul, and ccmipare their range,
power, ([uality, and so forth. Physiologists and acous-
ticians tell Us that the voice is a reed instrument of the
haull)oy species, that is. a double reed. Its range is re-
markable, when we consider the limited means by which
the sounds are produced ; the same is true of its power
ami <iuality ; in .ill the.se it is far surpassed by artificial
instruments. Its only sui)eriority, if such it is, is the
power of combining language with nuisic, thereby giving
ex])ression to definite emotions.

Dalton. 1)0 you think this combination of language
with sound is a superiority, or the gain in definiteness ?
I do not : words .seem to me to limit and curb the exjjres-
sion of nuisic.

Crahhe. I merely call it the only claim of the voice to
superiority; a claim that is more than counterbalanced
by the greater rauge-jxiwer and (juality of other instru-
ments, es])ecially of the string iu.strumeuts.

Dr. Goodman. (J you fiddlers 1 I would all the world

The "Scratch Clitb."

had the faith in more important matters that jx-u have in
your catgut and horse-hair contrivances.

Parks. I like string instruments as well as anybody ;
but still I think the voice is far ahead of them for inten-
sity, passion, and expression.

Crabbc. Oh, ho! you have a pretty good tenor, haven't
you ?

Parks. Well, yes ; I flatter myself.

Crabbc. There i.*- nothing like having a voice, or think-
ing you have one, to convince you of the superiority of
vocal '.nusic. A solo pianist is apt to be a conceited ani-
mal ; a solo violinist, to look on common men as inferior
beings ; but for a pure, lofty, undoubting conviction of
his superiority to all mankind commend me to a solo
tenor ; he has all the vanities of lioth sexes with the
graces of neither.

Parks. I have heard it said that all viola players arc
men \n1io failed as violinists. It must be this that has
embittered your life, and made you so envious of all who
are more gifted than yourself

Dr. Goodman. Come, come, gentlemen ; you are get-
ting personal and rude ; let us return lo the subject we
were discussing.

Crabbc. I confess I spoke rather warmly ; but when I
think of the cool impudence with which singers will take
liberties with the greatest masters, .becausi, forsooth, they
think they can improve them, or make their music more
suitable to their precious voices, as if their voices were
the oidy things in the universe to be considered, ^reat as
my patience is, it must give way.

Dalton. What a contrast to the great instrumentalist I
He prides him.self on his conscientious adherence to hi'i
text ; thinks it almost sacrilege to alter a note of Mozart
or Beethoven. I think it a good argument for the supe-

The ''Scratch Cluhr

s that you have in

well as anybody ;

of them for inten-

ood tenor, haven't

\ a voice, or think •
the superiority of
be a conceited ani-
lon men as inferior
ting conviction of
end me to a solo
h sexes with the

viola players arc
; be this that has
envious of all who

len ; you are get-
to the subject we

rmly ; but when I
h singers will take
.us(, , forsooth, they
: their music more
their voices were
snsidered, ^reat as

t instrumentalist !
s adherence to hi ■;
r a note of Mozart
ment for the supe-

riority of instrumental music — this difference in their re-
i;ard for their authors between the vocalist and the instru-
mentalist — their different views of artistic morals. The
player always sinks his individuality in his work, strives
to divine what his author means ; the singer too often
finds in his work only food for his self-esteem.

Parks. You are too sweeping. I have known man_\-
singers ju.st as conscientious as any player that ever lived.

Dallon. So have I ; still the rule holds good.

Dr. (ioodinan. Well, never mind the vanities of poor
humanities. All mankind are only too amenable to the
charge of " magnifying their office."' As some one said,
I forget who, ' ' No man can be happy unless he thinks
he can do some one thing better than his fellows, if it is
only that he can take a larger bite out of a pie than they. ' '
Possibly the singers do think that their bite is uncom-
monly large. It does no harm so long as the public are
satisfied, which it must be, judging from the prices it
pays to hear them .

Crabbe. It docs do harm — to artistic morals, and no feel-
ings or emotions can be lowered in tone without reacting
on all the rest.

Dr. (ioihiiiiaii. I am sure you are totally mistaken.
Your assertion is true only when applied to the moral or
intellectual nature. The artistic and the moral may exist
side by side ; but either may also exist in the most highly
developed state without the other. History is full of ex-
amples of a high state of art culture with a low state of
morals, and the reverse. Agaiii, artistic fitne.ss and moral
fitness may be as wide asunder as the poles ; for my part,
I sometimes think that too much devotion to art results
in a deterioration of morals, for many reasons ; one is,
that mankind do not seem to hold the artist as bound by
the same moral law as other men are— but I don't want

The" Scratch Clid>."

to preach. Do you remeiiibL-r in one of our discussions,
I think on fugues, something was said about ilie right
kind of music for certain words, or something to that
effe(-t. I would like to hear more about it, wliich is of
greater importance in the combination— poem or music?
Dalton. The poem, of course. If it were not, it would
be a gain ever>- way to "sol-fa " all vocal music.

Crabbc. Judging from most of the singing I have
heard, I should say the words would better be left out ;
but I don't think the singers are of your opinion.
Dr. Coodman. Why? what do you mean ?
Crabbc. I mean that the majority of singers treat
the words as of no imroicance, and slur them over, or
chew them up, or swallow them whole ; anything but sing
them.

Dalton. You are descending from principles to per-
sonals. I am sure you know what I mean.

Parks. Dalton ; I thought you considered instrumental
music far ab()\e vocal. How can >-ou say then that the
words are the most important in the combination ?

Dalto:u It is a case in which the "greater nuist serve
the lesser. ' '

Dr. Goodman. What ! Is music greater than poetry?
Dalton. In a certain sen.se, yes. It takes up expression
where poetry drops it, carrying it to a region beyond the
reach of poetry. As a teacher or educator— the higliest
province of poetry— music is totally wanting. But where
mere expression of emotion is concerned, music can take
poetry up on eagle wings and carry it be> ond the clouds.
Crabbc. Providev., of course, that the poem can "sit"
on the eagle's back, or that the eagle will " fit " its back
to the poem. After all, it is only a small class ol poems
that are suited to musical illustration ; they must be lyric :
descriptive, didactic, philosophic poetry — the highest
clas.s — is utterly unfit for music. It is only the poetry of

en:
ba

\vt

ki
ce:

cl(
pe

ha
h?
is
w
oi

til

ci
h(
h;

n
o
a

«li

>ur discussions,
ibout ilie right
lething to that
it, wliich is of
)oem or music ?
■e uot, it would
music.

inging I have
cr be left out ;
jpinion.
n?

if singers treat
• them over, or
ything but sing

nciples to per-

ed instrumental

y then that the

linatioii ?

iter must serve

than poetry ?
:s up expression
fion beyond the
;or — the higliest
ng. But where

music can take
, ond the clouds.
3oem can " sit "
1 "fit" its back
1 class ol poems
?y must be lyric :
ry — the highest
ily the poetry of

f/ic " Scratch Club."

emotion that, like the linnet in the fable, can mount the
back of your eagle and be carried above the clouds.

/;/-. C.oodiiHin. When \ cm l)egan. I did not think you
were about to hang such a graceful pendant to Dalton's
eloquent remarks.

Parks. Strange that he shoi.ld for he is one of that
kind who think eloquence only another name for insin-
cerity, and call it " gnsh.

Crahbc. No man, by t:-king vhought. can be eloquent.
He must first be earnest ; then, if he has anything to say,
eloquence will come of itself. I don't mean anything
personal, Dalton.

Dr. Gcodiiian. It is doubtless true that many people
have the feeling Parks mentioned. It may be that they
have a latent consciousness that the proper province of art
is in art ; hence its methods are misplaced when dealing
with more serious subjects ; the too eloipietit preacher is
open to the suspicion that he is more conscious of his art
than concerned about his message. I agree with Crabbe
that all real eloquence is an outgrowth of earnestness. I
know of nothing more unpleasant than the artificial elo-
quence of the professional elocutionist, when the pronun-
ciation of every syllable, every motion of hands, feet, or
head, is the result of a rule, and is never varied from a
hair's breadth.

Crahbc. Dalton said once that the "conversation of
musicians was more interesting than th:it of brokers or
other business men ■:' ours, this evening is more xfuark-
able for " wandering " than for interest.

LMton. That is the chief pleasure of conversation,
touching a hundred subjects, lingering with none.
Parks. Sipping the sweets of countless flowers.
Crabbe. Skimming the milk of countless cows.
Dr. Goodman. Well ! that is a metaphor with a ven-
geance—fitting conclusion to our evening's conversation.

SIXTH EVENING.
Musical Prejudices!

Cms evening was spent discussing "Musical Preju-
dices." Crabbe was in his element, and contrived
to say something disagreeable to ever>'one present. The
conversation became interesting after he had delivered
himself as follows :

Crabbe. In no part of music has prejudice had a larger
share than in the deference paid to great names, even b}-
good musicians, and, of course, by amateurs who wish to
get credit for knowing what is what. This deference is
either the result of timidity and a desire to be on the safe
side, or of a mistaken idea that, because a composer is
great, all his works must be equally good. But if ic is
true that " Homer sometimes nods and Shakespeare wrote
more than one dull play," there is nothing derogatory to
the genius of Bach or Handel, Beethoven or Mozart in
saying that they have all written' some things that the
world could very well spare — things that are stumbling-
blocks to the weak, things that delude the humbugs into
feigned raptures and make the unlearned, but humble-
minded, long for that inner light t'lat enables others to see
beauties in what seems, to their aull comprehension, such
mighty poor stuff.

Dalton. I protest against applying the word ' ' stuff ' ' to
( 40 )

th(

tin
by
is

asl

hi:

fai

sa;
as
an

" The Scratch C/iib."

Musical Prejn-

, and contrived

present. The

had delivered

:e had a larger
lames, even by
rs who wish to
lis deference is

be on the safe
a composer is
. But if ic is
kespeare wrote

derogatory to
1 or Mozart in
hings that the
are stumbling-
humbugs into
I, but humble-
es others to see
ehension, such

ord ' ' stuff ' ' to

anything that the great men you have mentioned — at least,
Mozart and Beethoven — ever wrote ; every note should he
treasured as a ])rccious legacy l)y the world.

Ila~(I. Vou may api)ly it to the rest, but you can't sliow
nie a note b\- Handel that the world can spare. Grandeur
in musical conception began and ended with him. Ever
since, there has been an increasing prominence given to
the merely passionate and sentimental, or, as it is called,
the romantic side of music.

Crabbc. No writer has reached such a pitch of dignity
and grandeur as Handel, I willingly confess ; but, I must
add, I don't think any other has written so much that is
insufferably tedious, and .so, far from filling the conditions
we agreed on the other evening, as necessary to the union
of words and nuisic.

Hazel. You nuist make some allowance for the taste of
the time wlien he wrote.

Crabbc. Truth in art is above the fashion of any and all
times. The moment you say that an artist is to be judged
by the taste of the time when he lived, you saj' his work
is not for "all time," but a day. Who wonld think of
asl-ing that allowances should l)e made for Michel An-
gelo, or Milton, or Shakespeare ? Or, if they require it,
it is for their faults or failures, not for the things for
which the world honors them. What Handel wrote for
his time ought not to live or be counted great, and just .so
far as he wrote for his time, he failed in his true calling
as a great artist.

Parks. But a man must live, and Handel had hard
work at or.» time to do so.

Crabbc. I am not blaming him lor what he did. I only
say that his "pot-boiling" work should not be held up
as a model for all ages. He is great enough without it,
and great enough to be freely criticized.

Tlie Scratch Club.

Hazel. I don't think Jlandcl need fear any criticism
that you, or any man living, can make on his work ; let
us have some.

Crabbe. Well, I think that nothing but the most deter-
mined prejudice could make any one profess to admire the
unmeaning, interminable runs with which his music is
overloaded. Take, for example, the opening solo in the
"Messiah;" nothing could be more beautiful than the
first part, " Comfort Ye My People," perfectly adapted to
the words, simple and chaste ; but does anybody realh-
like the second part, " Every Valley," when the process
of exaltation is made audible, if not visible, by the long
" division," as it was called, on the word exalt?

Dalton. It is a case of exalting the music at the expense
of the words.

Crabbe. Another good example, the solo " Why do the
Nations ; " there is some artistic fitness in the run on the
word "rage," but when the word "anointed" is made
to drag through awother serpent-like succession of sounds,
the effect is almost ludicrous. But the ludicrous is fairly
reached in the chorus, " All We, Like Sheep," where the
word ' ' turn ' ' is set to such a lively run that it suggests
the picture of a flock of sheep capering merrily, in giddy
fashion, on their lund legs, and rather proud, and not the
least bit penitent, at their turning their own way so
cleverly.

Hazel. It is rank blasphemy fo speak that way of
Handel's music : no musician should, no matter how he
thinks.

Crabbe. There it is ! Keep on lying, rather than shock
established prejudices. I jirefer to tell the truth, or what
I think to be the truth ; I don't even hesitate to say that,
if one-half of the ' ' Messiah ' ' were left out, the rest would
gain by the omission.

arj

" The Scratch CluO."

any criticism
his work ; let

he most deter-
; to achiiire the
1 his tnusic is
iig solo in the
tiful than the
:tly adapted to
nybody realh'
;n the process
e, by the long
:xalt?
at the expense

"Why do the
the run on the
ited ' ' is made
sion of sounds,
icrous is fairly
:p," where the
lat it suggests
rrily, in giddy
id, and not the
r own way so

c that way of
matter how he

her than shock
truth, or what

ate to say that,
the rest would

Hazel. Defend me from " Handel " improved by Crabbe.

Crahhc. Bacli and Handel lived at the close of one and
the opening of another epoch in music. They had a
great deal of the formalism, not to say "pedantry," that
was the chief characteristic of the old — notably of the
Belgian school — with whom the construction of an enig-
matic canon, or an ingenious doul)le counterpoint, or an
upside down or wrong end foremost imitation was looked
upon as a supreme effort of genius (the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries were nothing if not pedantic). But
in spite of this formalism, both of these men, being gifted
with superhuman genius, were able to rise far abo\e the
" nvanner " of their day and to produce works that, un-
touched by time, will ever remain the most wonderful
monuments of the art.

Parks. Whew ! What a burst !

Crabhc{\w\. noticing him). The great work that Haydn,
Mozart, and Beethoven did was to free music completely
from all artificial bonds and make " beauty," not "con-
struction," its ideal.

Dal/on. Therefore I maintain that that glorious trium-
virate are the supremest representatives of the art, their
work its most lasting monuments.

Crobbc. Vou include everything they wrote?

Dallou. I'A'ery thing.

Crabbe. I think I know .some things by all three that
the musical world is quite content to forget. Possibly
they were " pot-boilers ; " if so, I, for one, object to being
compelled to admire.

Dalton. But you must remember that these men grew
great by degrees. Haydn had to evolve the " form " be-
fore their greatest works became ])ossible.

Crabbe. Don't you .see? you admit the whole of my
argument. Tried by the standard of " perfection in art,"

■WMI

" The Scratch Cluhr

all their tentative work, l)e it never so interesting, wust
fall short. It is by their mature, fuUy-cieveloped work
that we must jud^e them ; the interest in the rest is his-
torical or biographical rather than "artistic" in the
highest sense.

Haul. You are never satisfied unless you can find
spots on the sun.

Crahhc. Well, we know the spots are there and are
an inseparable necessity of his constitution.

nallon. Hut why descant on them ?

Ciahbc. Hecause it is just as necessary to a proper un-
derstanding of the sun to see the spots as to see the
radiance. I like to think that the greatest men were,
after all, men of like passions, faults, and failings as our-
selves—not impo.s.sible monsters ; the knowledge of their
failures increases a thousandfold my sympathy for tlieir
successes.

Dr. Goodman (who has been a silent listener). We can
feel no sympathy with ab.solute perfection, either of good
or evil. Angels are above, devils beneath, human sym-
pathy. It is only where we recognize the capability for
either, and the struggle to rise from the lower to the
higher, that our sympathies are aroused. I am very
much pleased with your saying that the very failures of
genius should move us to a closer sympathy with their
successes. However, I have always thought your ' ' bark ' '
worse than your " bite ; " but I must away. I owe you
all a very pleasant evening.

corr
all I
scrij
autl:

"]
scrip
the 1
cordi
to in
em a
I^eps
buhr

itG3

; rest i 111!^, must
i"elojK'(l work
le rest is liis-
stic" in the

\-o\\ can find

here and are

a proper un-
is to sec the
st men were,
tilings as onr-
ledge of their
athy for their

ner). We can
iither of good

human sym-
capability for

lower to the

I am very

ry failures of

hy with their

your ' ' bark ' '
. I owe \o\x

SEVENTH EVENING.

Crahhc Reads a Tianslalioii of an Eirypdau
I\ipyrns.

CHIS evening was devoted to the hearing of a long let-
ter, read by Mr. Crabbe, which he had received
from a friend of his, a learned Kgyptologist, attached to
the British Museum, with whom he maintains a regular
correspondence. This gentleman, a Mr. Wormall. spends
all his time and ingenuity in deciphering i)apyrus manu-
scripts and hieroglyphic tal)ii.s, and is looked up to as an
authority in such matter,. Mr. Crabbe had obtained the
promise from him that, if ever he met with anything con-
cerning the music of ancient Egypt, he would connnuni-
cate it to him. This letter was the result of this promise.
Mr. Crabbe was pleased to say that he thought it might
prove "a valuable contribution to our discussion of church
music ; " but, as usual, we could not tell whether he was
in earnest or was merely indulging his satirical vein.
The reader must judge for himself.

"London, Nov. 4th, 18—.
" Mv Dear Crabbe :

" I have lately devoted mucli time and study to a manu-
script, unfortunately very nuich damaged, l)elonging to
the reign of Menoph-a king of the sixth dynasty; ac-
cording to Manetho, but, as modern research would .seem
to indicate, of the seventh dvnasty, although even mod-
ern authorities are divided. You may consult Elx^rs and
Upsuis for the arguments in favor of the sixth, and Nie-
buhr and Rawlin.son for those in favor of the seventh

( 45 )

The" Scratch Club.

dvnastv I incline, for several reasons to the opinion of
the Vonncr. although I n;rant inueh NveiKhl to lie ar-u-
K^nts of the latter authorities ,.arlK-ularlv the discover)
bv Niebuhr of a cartouche at the site ot the city of Isa-
men a uauie eviclentlv conipouiulecl of the uaine ot the
LoVlciess Ss aud the root of the word Meuoph the ua.ne
of the king in unestiou. This root ' Meu is the name of
the mvthfeal flmuder of l^gypt, ami was j.orne by ^he
kings who claimed descent trom him. >•< ^v this c t
seems to have been built in the time o the sev...t
dyrsty possil)ly l)y this v..Ty king Menoph. who gave t
t^ "name Isamen to perpetuate his achievenK.U a d Im
devotion to Isis. This cartouche in (luestion ^vas carxc
on one f the pillars of the propylon ot a temple now
r ias. and bears the name of Menoph. with a stateme
which the former authorities thus translate: Huilt in
honor of the memory,' etc. This would be conclusive
Sic^ were it not that the latter -'thonties h.ive t^ijw
grave doubts on its accuracy, chuming that^ it should
fead ' liuilt that the memory sh.nild be honored, etc
The first ranslation is de..-idedly in the past ; the second
is rather ambiguous, but the well-known scholarship o
the latter authorities entitles their opinion to grave con-
Weration ; but I am afraid I bore you with this kmg div
cussion of a subject that is only of niterest to professc
Egyptologists, so I will at once proceed to my translation
of^Uie papyrus, occasionally adding such notes as may
help you to understand some of its allusions :

' Bv command of the chief priests have f. P^^-'tll^JJ;
m-hn' the scribe, set down in order, for the iist.uc-
S^if ^s^ who'come after, this ^^f^^^^^^
sioiis which arose during tlie reign of M^"«P'^- ^^'"/^ '^.
Kings Ruler of Upper and Lower hgvpt. Lord ot tl ic
i otos^'e c(I will oniit the long string of titles, Nvhiclii.
epeated every time his name is introduced),, winch d s-
seSsSns resuUed in the overthrow ot the ancient schoo s
of the musicians and the establishment of the never-to-bo-
tooluch lauded (this is one word in the original s_ac ed
music which we now en oy under the favor of our Dread
W Menoph (King, etc., etc.), iu this his city of Isa-

d;i

111
ai
ill
re

\Vi

111
sc
111
til
til
til
P'

al
sn
til
P^
Pi
of
til
\v
of
h(
te
fil
te
til
of

V.'

^'}
w

The " Sinifrli CIii/k"

) the opinion of
111 to llic ar^;u-
Iv thf discovery
the city of Isa-
he name of the
noph. the name
' is the name of
IS home hy the
Now tliis city
of the sevv^.ith
)ph, who K^ve it
•vcment ami his
ition n-as carved

I temple now in
,itli a statement
slate : ' Hnill in
Id be conclusive
ties have thrown
r that it should
)e hon'ored,' etc.
Dast ; the second

II scholarship of
;)n to sj;rave con-
;ith this lon^ dis-
erest to professed
to my translation
:h notes as may
iious :

lave I, Phe-thar-
for the instruc-
icle of the dissen-
Menoph, King of
rypt, Lord of the
cJf titles, which is
,nced), which dis-
le ancient schools
of the never-to-he-
le original) sacred
avor of our Dread
is his city of Isa-

men, where dwells and is worshipped the grert godtlcss
I'hthah (probably the Demetcr ol (Week, and Ceres ol
l,alin myllii>l()j;y ). In all the world is the fanii- of oiii
li'inple si>n.ad, an<l tin.' mysti-iies and glories of our vv( r
siiii) are kuDwn to all jicDplus md kindreds. I'-mm the
days of Xkiies, the divine ancestor of our I.ord Metioph
( King, etc., etc. ), have we celebrated withc-nt ceasing tin
mysteries of the go<ldess. (Tliis claim to an tniknown
anli(|iiity is connnon to many religions ; it is also another
illustration of the desire of tlie Ivgxptians to ignore tlie
reign of the Ilyksos, or shepherd kings, a monotheistic
race, who put an end, for a long jKriod, to the idolatrou--
worshij) of tlie Ivgyptians. ) As the time for the swelling
of \ilus draweth nigh, when Sotliis looks upon the de-
scent of Osiris to the shades (a poetical way of saying
that Sothis, the dog star, rises, as Osiris, the sun, is set
ting — what astronomers call the heliacal rising of a star ;
this heliacal rising of the dog star occurs at the time of
the annual iiniii(l;Uion of the Nile valley), the priests
proclaim a solemn f'ast, wiili oiferiiigs to propitiate the
goddess, tliat she may .send a i)lenteous harvest. Imoiii
all the country, far and near, the peo])le throng to our
sacred city of tlie great king Meiioph ( King of, etc., etc.;,
the dwelling-place of Plithah, to witness --'id l)ear their
part in the temple services, and secure the benefit of the
priestly intercessions, for which they give to the priests
offerings according to tiieir moans or their necessities, for
the suj)port of the ])riests and the services of the temple,
whereby large sums of money are stored in the treasury
of the temple, to the honor of the goddess and the joy of
her priests. When the set time has come the gates of the
temple are thrown o])en, and the multitudes press in and
hll the court of the people. Thick darkness is in all the
temj)le, and silence soon fills on the ])eople as they wait
the coming of the priests and the signs of the i)resence
of the goddess. vSuddenly the holy place (or chancel, as
we would call it,) is filled with a blaze of light, while
darkness still rests on the people. Now is heard the dis-
tant .sound of flutes and the ring of c\iiibals (the ancient
cymbal was much smaller than our modern noisy aftair),
which grow nearer and louder as, robed in white stoles
and c.owned with wreatlis of the sacred lotos flower, the

. m

///(• " SiniUli Club,"

loiij; train of minislcriii^ pritsis filters in solemn proces-
sion, swin^iii); tiicir sniokiii); CLiisirs, wliiili till tlic vast
spacf with llu; oilor of nard, anil fiankiiu iMi>f, ami other
pnrions spices. I-'ollowin^; the piiisls walk llu- ihicf
nnisic-ians, wlio also hcloiijj to the priestly caste, reverend
men with snow-white hair, dressed in Kl'^t<-'"i"K white
robes j^irded with golden girdles, each one l)eariii^( on his
left arm a ^^olden fonr-strin^;ed lyre, in his ri^ht liand an
ivory plectrum wherewith he strnck the sout diiijr slrin^;s.
In their train followed the jjlayeis on the -yinhals, the
sistrnm, the crotalnm, and tlie (Inte. In their company
walki'd the singers, beautifnl yonths and maidens, whose
dnty is to sin>; the hymn to the j^oddess or to make loud
music with voices and instruments while the pritsts move
in mystic dance round the feet of the j^oddess. When the
dance is ended, and the offerings of flour, mai/e, barley,
and onions are laid on the altar in front of the goddess,
the youths and maidens, led by the ciiief musicians, sing
the ancient hymn to the music brought down to the earth
by the great i'hlhah herself, as it is taught by liie iiriests.
Now this ancient music is of four sounds, sacred to the
gods, that may not be used for any ])rot'ane ])uri>ose with-
out incurring their resentment. (This means, I suppose,
that the oldest ICgyplian music was constructed in a .scale
of four sounds, probably what was alterwards known as
the Pythagorean tetrachord.) Loud rises the sound of
voices aiul instruments as they sing this hymn in the
hearing of the goddess and of the expectant multitude :

" Great Roddes.s I'hthuh,
Giver of fruitful seasons,
Mother of life, hear !
Thy suiile ripens the fields ;
Thou j.;ivest plenteous harvests !
Bearer of the lotos flower,
Deign to accept the maize.
The onions, the barley we hr?<ig.

Great Kod<les.s Phtliah,

Mother of life, hear !

Supplicate thy holy priests,

Waiting thy people stand."

' (I only give you the literal meaning. The peculiar
form of poetry common to all ancient »Semitic peoples,

sp
ca
cu
lie
th
ai;

«l

Ihc " Siiiiti/i C/iil>."

)lciiiii jirorcs-
1 fill tlic va>t
>L', aiul olliir
ilk tin- iliiul'
iNtf, rivi.'ivii(l
iti'iiiiiK wliiu-
iiariii^ on liis
i^lit iiaml an
'lin}r slriiiKs.
:ynil)als, the
iL'ir c-onipany
lidens, wliosc
L<> make lond
■ priests move
*. When the
nai/c, barley,
the ^oddi'SS,
usirians, sinj^
n to the earth
jy the jiriests.
sacred to the
pnrpose with-
ns. I suppose,
-ted in a scale
rds known as
the sound of
hynni in tlie
t nuillitude :

The peculiar
mitic peoples,

called parallelism, doe> not easily accommodate itself to
om ton>j[Ue. ) Soon as the sound of the music i-eases, tiie
sacred llanie and smoke luusl from the mouth and nos
Irils »)f the >;odde>s, and the people, with holy awe, pros-
trate themselves, as lhe\' whisper : " A iire^ent ^;o<ldi'ss !
The ^rcat mutlur hears oi.r pra\ers ! " Now it came to
pass that a certain man of the chief nuisicians, calleil
Mlii nem, was moved — some said by vain thon>;hts ;
others, better informed, said by the goddess herself— to
add three notes to the old scale (making;, I suppose, the
scale called by the Oreek> the scale of conjunct tetra-
chordsj and to invent melodies conformed thereto. There-
upon great uproar and ilisseiision anjse in tlie schools of
the musicians. Many — and they were venerable men —
denounced the new soni^s, sayini; tlifv were lewd ami un-
seeuUy tor the worship of the );oddess, appealing to the
senses by their wicked beauty ; also saying, the goddeSH
will withdraw her presence if the vain inventions of lin
men are intruded into her sanctuary. Many — and they
were younger men — saiil thiit the goddess had wearied of
the old song, and hence h;id inspired Mhi-nem to invent
a new song. Also, they said, "If the new song is nu)re
beautiful tiian the old, it is, theiefore, the more worthy to
olTer to the goddess." But the ])riests, as yet, said
nothing pul)licly, but said among themselves, " Wait ; we
must first see will it ])rotit our temple. It nmst be good
if it brings more i)eople to our services. We will wait."
Nor did the goddess vouchsafe any sign of her pleasure.
When the dissension was at its height, the priests, to set
the matter at rest, gave conunand that at the next S(»lenui
service the new song of the nuisician Mhi-nem should be
sung, that all the i)eople might see and judge whether
the goddess w(mld accept it or not.

' At the apjiointed time a greater nudtitude than ever
presented themselves at the tem|)le gales, for the rumor
of the dis.sension, and of the beauty of the new song had
spread aI)road over tlie whole land. And many ])ious
came, fearing the goddess would be offended. Many
curious came to .see what would ha])])en and to hear the
new song. So tlie treasury was filed to overflowing, and
the hearts of the priests were glad, as they said one to
another, " With thi? wealth we can spread the fame of our

-^^^

Scrah-k Club.'

goddess through the whole earth, until all peopUj believe
in her and us only." And now, as ever l)efore. tlie solemn
procession of priests, and r.utsioians, and singers entered
the temple to the soinid of flutes, and cynd)als, and all
instrun'ents of music, and moved in mystic dance nmnd
the feet of tlie goddess, and swung their smoking censers ;
and, when they liad ended, rose the song — the new song
of Mhi-nem — from the clear voices of the youths and
maidens, while the playeis on the flute, and cymbals, and
sistrum, and crotalum made loud nuisic ; and when the
hymn was ended, and the waiting nuiliitude gazed with
awe upon the goddess, suddenly, with more brilliance
tlian ever, forth burst the sacrec. flame and smoke from
the mouth and nostrils <>f the go Idess. and the people fell
on their faces and critd. " A. pre it -it goddess."

' Then spake the priests : "It is the will of the goddess
that she be served with the new song, as has been made
l^lain in the sight of all men ; and forasmuch as the new
song is liked by the people, wh'ch has caused greater
multitudes than ever to r^r■!embl^ themselves in her tem-
ple, to the honor of the goddess and the spread of our
religion, we therefore give commandment that all such as
are skilled in music shall diligjutly seek out and ir.vent

such new so igs as they may, that our religion may

(here there is a piece torn off) the whole world be 1)rouglit
<o acknowledge the one true "

"After this I could oidy pick out a word here and
there, Init I tnink the most important part of the MSS. is
before you.

" Ever smcerely Vours,

"I. WORMALL, D.C.Iv."

Crabbe. vSo you see the church in Egypt, ten thousand
years ago, was divided on the music question ; and they
settled it just as some modern churches I have heard of
have done.

Dr. Goodman. Perhaps t!,e '.vhole story is allegorical,
and is meant to teach that the outward form of worship is

The " Scratch Club '

all pe()])iij belirvfc
l)L'f()rt', the solemn
id siiiji^tTs (.■iileivil
1 cymbals, and all
ystif dance round

smoking censers ;
ng — the new sonj;
f llie youths aiul

and cymbals, and
ic ; and when the
titude gazed with
h more brilliance
■ and smoke from
?.\u\ the people fell
iddess. ' '

,vill of the goddess
us has been made
imuch as the new
as caused greater
selves in her tem-
the spread of our
nt that all such as
.'ek out and ir.vent

religion may

i world be l)rought

a word here and
)art of the MSS. is

LMALL, D.C.L."

ypt, ten thousand
uestion ; and they
s I have heard of

tory is allegorical,
form of worship is

a matter o'" indifference to the superior powers, provided
the intenti(m is good.

Cral'bc. Is "good intention" a sun'icieut warrant for
auj c(mrse of action ? The intention of those worthy
people who turn their chinches into a "sacred concert"
room may be good— that is, their desire to bring more
l.eople under the influence of picaching ard so forth
-but it may be questioned if they are justified m using

such means.

Dr. Coodman. You have slightly mi .understood my
use of the word. I iiuite agree with you aiat musical or
any other display is to be reprehended if its only design is
to draw people to church. It is always a shock to my
feelings to see the musical performances that our churches
vie with one another in giving at Christmas and Ivaster
advertised, like public amusLMiients, in the secular papers.
Do not understand me as finding fault with either public
concerts or secular papers. I only ol)ject to the turning
of what should be a solemn service into an attraction for
the idle and curious.

Dal ton. I have heard that the churches that do not
make any musical display are nearly deserted on the fes-
tivals 3'ou mention.

Crahbc. It is nice to .see the papers next morning.
Criticisms on the church music, the last new actress, the
variety theatre, side by side— as they ought to be, when
the clurches adopt their methods of advertising. I like
that Rhadamanthine impartiality of the papers.

Dr. Coodman. Alas ! It is hard to detect all the insidi-
ous wavs in which evi' will get itself done that good may
come; 'evil well kn .Ai 1- all the time-wh it men will
never learn, apparently— that the good will never come.
It is the ever varying form of the temptation, " All these
things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship

r/w" Scratch C/kIk"

me." To every man it comes some time or anotlicr, not
only in religion, hut in art, in politics, in business, when
he is lemi)te(l, for the sake of the good end. to enijiloy the
questionable expedient. Let us separate with this serious
thought.

EIGHTH EVENING.

Acoustics and Music. Cmhhc Aiiuounccs His
Discovery of a Tliro)y of Color Hannouy.

CHE evening's discussion was commenced by tlie fol-
lowing remark from Dr. Goodman :

Dr. Goodman. I have never regretted so much my
ignorance of the science of music as I did the other day
when reading a pamphlet on the formation of the scale.
I was surpri.sed to learn how imperfect our scale is and
how easy it would be to hni^rove it. It seems to me— in
fact, I have seen it so stated— that music is largely in-
debted to the modern discoveries in the science of acous-
tics.

Ha::el. Doctor, you have started such a large subject
that it is difficult to know where to begin to answer you.
First, though, as to the .scale ; it would be a gain, in
some ways, to have a scale in perfect tune ; especially is
this true as to organs. I have seen, in London, an organ
in the Temple Church which is enharmonic ; it certainly
sounds very jjure, but the difficulty of playing it is im-
mense.

ab
th;
b.'
is
wl
esl
of
sh
of
su
tic
th-
us
sil
if
be
be
be
be
ha

re
of
so
itti
an
sii
lb
nt

an
h£

''^-tt, -

The " Scmtcli C/idr."

another, not

iiness, wlien

emjiloy the

this serious

'Hccs His
irmouy.

by the fol-

nuich my
: other clay
f the scale,
cale is and
to nie — in
largely in-
2 of acous-

rge subject
iiswer you.
a gain, in
specially is
1, an organ
t certainly
g it is im-

Dalton. I think the best way out of the discussion
about the tempered and untenipered scale is to say boldh'
that the teni{)ered scale is ever\- \va\- the best, l-'irst,
b.'cause it is the only H.:ale in which a system of harmony
is possible. Harmonv — I use the term to include the
whole art uf comi)osition — is based o?i the possibility of
establishing a clo.se relationshii) among a definite number
of scales, alike in every respect but pitch. This relaticii-
ship would I)e ir.'po.ssible but for the fact that the series
of sounds from which these scales are formed must be
such that they may enter into the harmonic combina-
tions ; i.e., the chords of all the scales. For example,
the .sound, G, in the scale of C, is, in our .scale, the .same
as the sound, G, in the .scale of Kl? ; it is, therefore, pos-
sible to sound in succession the chords of C and E b ; but
if this G is tuned perfectly true in the .scale of C, it would
be untrue in the scale of E i? ; therefore the connection
between these chords would be destroyed. This might
be continued indefinitely, and its logical conclusion would
be that no scale i;> related to any other scale, and \vc would
have to do as it is said the Greeks did — tune our instru-
ments Ml whatever key we wished to play in. The .second
re :son, and the best, is that the tempered scale is the .scale
of Bach, Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Mendels-
sohn, and the whole host of those who have raised music to
its high place among the fine arts. I will back their ear
and taste against all the acousticians, armed with all the
sirens, and Sa^'art wheels, and resonators, and tuning-
forks in the world, as to what sounds well and what does
not.

Crabbe. Whew ! Keep your temper, Dalton.

Dalion. Oh, I can't, when a man who measures and
analyzes sounds tells me he can improve the scale that
has furnished to the world the deathless creations of

Tim " Scratch Cinl)."

musical genius. " Let the shoemaker stick to his last."
Sounds, no matter how pure, how swett, are not music.
There is mcjre music in the worst " scratched" quartette
of Mozart than there would be in the most faultless en-
harm .nic " rendering " of— well, the major part of mod-
ern American church anthems, let us say.

Crabbc. Oh, lame and impotent conclusion ! Your in-
dignation evaporated too suddenly .

Dr. Goodman. I had no idea I should rai.se such a tem- _
pest. I am almost afraid to ask any more questions, but
haven't the acousticians explained the composite nature
of sounds, and the origin of chords, and made some very
curious discoveries of what are called, I think, residual
tones ; that is, sounds that remain in the ear after the
sound that excited them has ceased. I was told by a
well-known physicist that this discover^' had important
bearings on melody. I understood him to mean that
a melody would be agreeable when its .sounds were linked
by these residual tones, and the reverse. :|^.

Dalton. To begin with the first part of your questmn ;
Yes, Lhey have explained the composite nature of sounds ;
they have not quite explained the origin of chords ; for
instance, the theory that the minor chord is formed b^ -
combination of the overtones of two roots, '''he reason-
ing by which it is attempted to prove this would be iust
as conclusive if applied to a theory that it was a combina-
tion of the overtones of three roots.' Thus the chord C,
E b, G results, they say, from a comljination of the over-
tones of C and K i^. True, G is an overtone of C and also
of E !?, but C and E !? are overtones of A t? ; then why
not say that C, E b-, G is a combination of the overtones
of A i?, and C? Again, C is an overtone of F, El?
of A b!, G of C, then the chord of C minor is a combina-
tion of the overtones of F, A b, and C. This sort of rea-

son:
tioii
old
exp
he (
tlia
pre]
Z
torn
her
/
Mo
due
Tit
froi
col(

I
Gi\
an
Th
of J
ind
wo
tioi
fes

(
ex]
the

l)Oi

loc
am

J %

Tlie " Scratdi Club."

his last."
not music.
' quartette
ultless en-
rt of mod-

Your in-

uch a tem-

:stions, but
site nature
: some very
ik, residual
r after the
) told by a
I important
mean that
were linked

r question ;
> of sounds ;
chords ; for
brmed b^ _
"^'he reason-
uld be iust

a combina-
he chord C,
of the over-
f C and also

; then why
le overtones
: of F, Et?

a combina-
; sort of rea-

soning may be made to prove anything. After all, ques-
tions like this are only of interest to the acoustician. The
old explanation f consonance is sufficient ; that is, if any
explanation is needed. The musician knows what sounds
he can combine, the u'fiy is of no more importance to him
than the chemical processes by which his pigments are
prepared are to the painter.

Dr. Goodman. Well, what about melody and residual
tones? Ma}' there not be some gain to the musician
here ?

Dallon. I will believe it when I hear such a melody as
Mozart or Mendelssohn have made constructed by a de-
duction from this theory. As well expect a picture like
Titian's or Raphael's to come into existence as a deduction
from the undulatory theory of light and the vibrations of
colors.

/;;-. Croodman. I think your views might be thus stated :
Given, a science ; deduce an art ; impossible. Or, given,
an art ; reduce it to scientific terms ; equally impo.ssible.
There is. therefore, no science of music, or of painting, or
of sculpture, or of poetr>% but all these arts are, in a sense,
independent of the material world, although ba.sed on and
working through matter, in accordance with the limita-
tions of our present existence, even as the highest mani-
festations of the intellect and the will are forced to do.

Crabbc. When the artist finds the material wherewith to
express his ideal, his concern for it is ended. "Why" is
the question of science, not of art. Art admires the rain-
liow, and is content with any or no account of it ; science
looks on it as an illustration of the unequal refrangibility
and dispersion of light.

Dalton. Crabbe has been reading Hugo, and has im-
bibed some of his antithetical, epigrannnatic sententious-
ness.

5^'

The " Scratch CIu/k"

Parks. "Words of learned length and thund<-rous

sound."

Crabhe. Dalton, you said sotnething a while a^o on the
vilmilions of colors ; it has su>,^gesled a hrillianl discovery
to me. It uiiRht he of great help to the iniinl rs if they
were familiar with these vihrations, for instance, say, of
"Titian's red." If they knew this they might he able to
" tune up" some of their reds to the right pitch. Why
should not the i)ainler " harmoni/.e " his colors ac-
cording to the ratios of their vibrations, as well as
the musician his sounds ? I think I have discovered a
profound principle. There must be a harmony of colors,
precisely like the harmony of .sounds. Painters have
been working in the dark. If this theory were elaborated
it would put an end forever to all crude, inharmonious
blendings and contrastings of color. Some one tried to
make a color symphony once, but failed ; it must have
been through ignorance of the "thorough l)ass " of color.
I believe his symphony " went " equally well backwards
or forwards.

Parks (sotto voce). Must have been like Wagner.
Ocr/Vv. Eh ! what ! Don't interrupt me !■ I will give
you an outline of my theory. The pitch of each color
being determined, its compass would be the number of
shades of which it is capable— its pianos and fortes, its
different intensities. As there are three primary colors,
we might have three scales— the natural, red, the color of
lowest vibration rate. Natural, we call it, because " ce-
lestial rosy red" is the pleasantest of all colors. Then
the unnatural, yellow, the jaundice color, shade of envy,
jealousy, and .so on. Last, the supernatural, blue. Hu-
manity has already discovered that this is the right key for
the supernatural. Witness the familiar sayings : ' ' Every-
thing looks blue," as an antithesis to "Everything is

thund< rous

a^o on the
X discovL-ry
I IS if llicy
ice, say, of
t be able to
itch. Why

colors ac-
as well as
iscovered a
y of colors,
inters have
L' elaborated
harmonious
one tried to

nnist have
,s " of color.
[ backwards

u;ner.

1 will give
f each color

number of
id fortes, its
niary colors,

the color of
because ' ' ce-
)lors. Then
ade of envy,
., blue. Hu-
rif^ht key for
jj;s : " Kvery-
iverything is

///( " Scriihh Club."

rosy," or, as we sa\ , such a one looks " blue," when we
would say he looks as far as i>ossil)le from his natural
condition. J need not muUii)ly illustrations, but will
only refer to "bine Monday," "blue Idazes," "blue
stocking," "lilue ruin."

Diilloit. For pity's sake, stop. When _vou get hold of
an al)snrd notion you are like a colt turned out at grass.

Crabbe. I am serious. I see dimly the outlines of a
glorious science that will do for ])ainters what thorough
bass has done for musicians. Your sui)ercilious cavils
will not hinder me from developing it.

Hazel. vSilence is the best soil in which to rear such
delicate ])lants.

Crabbe. With my usual generosity, I wanted all my
friends to share in the glory of this discovery. You have
missed your best chance for immortality. I .shall begin
the study of optics to-morrow. This is the plan on which
I shall work : I will question all my lady friends (who
know more about it than the ])ainters, and are not ham-
pered by any "theories of color"), and. by comparing
their opinions, will construct my tal)le of contra.sts and
combinations ; then determine the vibration rate of each
color ; and then — the rest is easy.

Palton. Don't go on. Some of us might try to antici-
pate your discoveries. Better —

Crabbe. vSlop ! I have changed my plan. I will study
ojitics first, and deduce my rules for painting from the
laws of liglit and color. This will give a scientific basis
to painting, and will be in the line of those philosophers
who say the rules of musical coniiH)sition can be deduced
from the laws of acoustics. Just think of it ! The day
may come when we will be able to .state a symphony or
picture in algebraic symbols, and there will be nothing
left for those troublesome, conceited creatures, who think

■H

The "Scriilih Club.

they are " inspired," to do but to translate the fonnuke
of the niatheinaticiau into notes and colors.

Hazel. I begin to see what you ore taking such a roinid
about way to arrive at.

Parks. He made it up before he came here, and is lr\-
Ing to pass it of}" as "extempore."

Palton (coming t)Ut of ' re\eiie). What the ))lays and
toys of childhood are to that happy period of life, art is to
children of ;i larger growth — a something to which the
emotions and Ihe imagination can give themselves up
without any (juestionings ; a loophole, through which we
get glimpses of a world in which tiie hard pitiless laws
of science are unknown. Or, science binds us to the uni-
verse of matter; art sets us frve. :i:id introduces us to a
world above the laws ot matter.

Crabbc. Or, .science is the school where the stern mas-
ter, with hateful textbook, sways his birchen sceptre, and
spares not, lest he .->liould spoil the child. Art is the
Cliristmas pantomime, where the ordinary rules and re-
'■•po.isibilities of life are abrogated, where the turkeys run
about ready-cooked, with knife and fork under their wing,
and the loaves nnd fishes come in at the window or down
the chimney without the intervention of the baker or
fishwife, and —

Dalloii. Do you think you have improved on my dis-
course?

Crabbc. By no means. Would I had that poetic gift !
I have oidy brouglit it down to ordinary understandings.

Dr. Goodman. What has possessed >ou two this even-
ing? You have had a talking match all to yourselves,
and have been .sparring nearly all vl.e time. Haze) ^ooks
as if his thoughts were in cloud land, and Parks is asleep
with his mouth open. Revise hira, Hazel, and let us be
off.

fai
nu

a*;

prt

sio

gO(

he fonmike

ch a round -

and is try

: ))la\'S and
ife, art is to
) whicli the
msclves up
h which we
litiless laws
i to the uni-
ices us to a

C! stern mas-
sceptre, and
Art is the
Lilcs and re-
turkeys run
• their wing,
ow or down
le baker or

1 on my dis-

poetic gift !
erstandings.
o this evei.-
yourselves.
Haze! ^ooks
rks is asleep
i;d let us be

The " Scmlclt Clubr

ffazcl. I have been dreaming with my eyes open ; per-
haps I will tell you my dream — or parable, let me lall it
— sometime.

Da/Ion. GiMjd ! Remember, we are to have Hazel's
parable first tiling at our next meeting.

Crabhc. Will you "o[kmi your parable " on the piano?
as you don't play the harp.

Dr. Cioodnian. Hold your railing tongue, and come
away. Parks, ".shake off dull .sleep," and join us.

Crabbe. Parks looks like an anaconda just fed, or as I
fancy the prodigal son did after he had made a "square
meal " on tlie fatted calf.

Dr. Goodman. Oh, slux:king ! You are intolerable.

NINTH EVENING.

AMore Discussion on Vocal and Instrumental

Music,

AS soon as the playing was over this evening Mr. Dal-
ton called on Mr. Hazel to produce his parable, but
Hazel excused himself on the plea that he had been too
busy to finish writing it, but would, without fail, read it
at the next -neeting. The conversation, after various ex-
pressions of disappointment, gradually settled to a discus-
sion .p instruments and their combinations.

Parks. Why is it that so few have succeeded in writing
good strings compositions, even among those who have
written good oi)eras and good orchestral compositions ?

;i|

Till- "Srmti/i Cliibr

Dalkm. Simply becausL- it is so much harder to be in-
tcrestitijj; with only four strings. The nuiltiplied contrasts
of (|iiality in tlie tone of tlic instninK'nts in a full orchestra
serve to cover ])MUcity of ideas, and will even give effect-
iveness to coinnion]>laces.

Crabhc. Vonr modern composer understands that well.
Whenever he feels that his audience are getting sleepy he
skilfully brings in a solo passage for the cyinl)als or a
flash of lightning from a piccolo, to rouse them and make
the injudicious exclaim, " How fine ! "

Dr. (nwdnuxn. In what order do sou musicians rank
nutsical compositions ? I mean, what do you consider the
highest examples of the art ?

/hiNtvi. Well, I suppose Parks would put opera first ;
Hazel, oratorio. My iirivate opinion is that the compo-
sititms for string instruments alone fill the highest place ;
next, those for string instruments and piano ; then the
symphony ; then the oratorio ; then the opera ; after
these, the deluge of music that covers the world.

Hazel. I think you draw the lines too hard and fast ;

an oratorio of Handel or an ojiera of Mozart is as great

a woik of genius as any string composition in existence.

Palton. True. But I base my classification on the fact

that only a few — and those the greatest — have succeeded

in this form ; and it is a confirmation of my opinion that

those who have succeeded in this form are also the

greatest in all other forms of composition — the string

composition, with or without piano. The oratorio, the

s\mphony, the opera, the mass treated like an oratorio

— these all suggest the names of Haydn, Mozart, lieetho-

ven in the first rank ; Mendelssohn, Schumaini, Schubert,

who, if not in all respects in the first rank, are very near

it. I purposely omit Handel, as he lived before the days

of chamber music in its modern forms. Now the multi-

I>
\>
ei

f(
ni
ai
si
ni

m
tl

til
ai
it;
ev

at
an

Till- "Scratch Club:'

to he in-
1 contrasts
1 orchestra
ivL' elTcct-

that well.
: sleepy he
il)als or a
ami make

:ians rank
•nsidcr the

per a first :
he compo-
lest place ;
; then the
era ; after
d.

and fast ;
is as great
existence,
on the fact

succeeded
Mnion that
e also the
-the string
ratorio, the
m oratorio
rt, lieetho-
, Schubert,
e very near
re the days
• the multi-

tude of writers who have attained a deservedly hi^Ii rank
as opera writers is a proofthat it is, (•()ni])are(l witli' writing
a good (juartette, an easy thing to writf a good opera.

Crahbc. \ tliink tlie hest test is the comparative j^opu-
lanty ol tlie various forms of composition. A thousand
like an opera whc-re a hundred like a svmphonv or an
..ratorio or lour like a (piartette, because the merit of art
hears always an inverse i)ro].ortion to its i)opularit\ .

Parks. lUit if it is tlic mission of art to j.rovide refnied
anuisement, does it not follow that the form of art that
provides amusement for the largest numl.cr, provided it
IS not immoral, is the best art, and the worthiest to be
encouraged ?

Paltou. I have said uotliing about encouraging any
form of art. Tlie qu.-stion .it present is, " Which is tlie
most refined form of this amusement?" if it be only an
amu.sement. I blame no one for not liking (luartctte mti
SIC, I merely pity his lack of a sense that gives me so
much pleasure.

Dr. Goodman. I am glad you are not one of those rabid
musicians who look upon all the world who do not accept
their dicta as fools and willfully blind.

Hazel. In which category do you jnit the concertos for
various solo instruments with orchestral accompaniments ?

Dalton. With a few exceptions, I don't like any of
them. I particularly dislike the combination of liiaiio
and orchestra ; the piano suffers too much in the union.
Its powers of expression are so limited and its .sounds ,so
evanescent.

Crabbc. Yes ; the orchestra always seems to stoop a
long way down to encourage the poor tinkler.

Daltou. Then there is something crude and mechanical
about the form of the concerto : the alternation of ,solo
and tutti, with the same theme, grows monotonous ; in-

SJ£l

The " Scrakli Cluh."

,lcf(l, the audic-nce Kciurally s^tin lo Uiiuk tlu' luttis are
put ill to tiivc tluiii an oppoiluuily to apphmd, a» opinion
in which the soloist too oltcn coiiifidcs.

Ifazel. Ihope you don't include all concertos in your

strictures.

Dnilon. I said at the heKniuiitiK that there were some

exce])tions.

Cnil>l»\ Hazel, you are an excellent l)ufrer to break the
force of Dalton's sweeping; criticisms,

Pallou. There is hut one instrument that can hohl its
own a^^ainst the r)rchestra— that is the voice.

Parks. I remenil)er you said once that the voice was
not to he compar.-d with other instruments, it was so

inferior.

Da/ton. All artificial instruments form a republic, of
which the violin is president. The human voice is not a
member of this republic, and therefore not to be judged

by its laws.

ParL's. That sounds like an admission of its superiority.

Dalton. It does not follow that because it is indepen-
dent of the rules that govern other instruments that it is
therefore superior; independence sometimes means infe-

rioritv.

Crabbe. Yes ; for example, college boys are not held
accountable to the same laws by which grown men have
to regulate their conduct.

Dr. Goodman. What is your opinion about instrumen-
tal solos? Do you include them in the same category as
the concertos?

Dalton. I think the piano is the solo instrument par
excclhncc. if for no other reason than that all other instru-
ments require an accompaniment. But there is a better
reason. It is the only instrument in which melody, har-
mony, accompaniment, and expression are under the con-

trol

wli

(

liki

(

lik'

{\k

aiK

sel

cai

ex;

fur

ter

pic

coi

COI

is
let
ral
in

ye
qil

JL-

wi
sw

The "Sinttili Clubr

^>3

• tuttis are
:in opinion

OS in your

were some

J break Iht.'

m hold its

c voice was
it was so

c'publif, of

ice is not a

he jmlged

superiority,
is indepen-
ts that it is
means infe-

re not held
n men have

instrumcn-
category as

trument par
Dther instni-
; is a better
iielody, har-
ider the con-

trol of one r.iiiid. Il i^ Hk' only single instrument on
which a complete composition can be played,

Hazel. All of which !■> c(|nally true of the orKan.

nallon. Vcs ; barring the e.\p^es^ion.

Ciabln. Oh, yes, says the shoemaker, " There is nothin^{
like leather."

rarks. What do you mean ?

Cnihbf. Why, y<m and Dalton think there is nothinj;
like ])iano— I bejj your pardon, the voice is your eidolon,
lla/el thinks there is nothing like orj^an. Now I think
there is nothin.n like fiddle, especially the tenor fiddle,
and Dalton's argument abotit one man power is all non
sense. Doesn't it follow that four men full of expression
can ^el out four times as much of it as one man full of
exi)re.ssion ? 'iMien the fourfold variety of exjjression
furnishes a much wider field for the enjoyment of the lis-
teners than the unifold ( I am not sure there is such a
word ; I claim it, if there is not). With regard to the
piano being the oidy instrument that one man can play a
complete composition on, I admit its truth ; but is it an
advantage? Why, put four men at a cpiartette, and they
will get more out of it, and put more int<. it, too, than the
compo.scr ever dreamed of. As for the organ, I think it
is not without meaning that a slight transposition of the
letters make it " groan." There is an occult, supernatu-
ral origin of names, and wise men of old put great faith
in anagrams, which we, in our conceit, despise.

Dalton. Crabbe, you came into the world a thousand
years too late. That speech is just in the rambling,
quasi-argumentative, wholly foolish vein of a court
jester.

Crabhc. Ah, well ! We need a counterpoise to your
wisdom ; or, rather, a counter-levity. We w ^uld all be
swamped else.

The " Srnittli C!ii'\

rark.i. I would like to stay ; it is such fun to he .r you
two growl at each other ; but it is too late.

Dr. Coodman. I think 1 shall have to take to runuii.g
away when you get at loggerheads. I am tired of the
office of peacemaker.

Crabbc. I am sorry, Doctor, to see you shirk one of the
duties of the Chri.stian minister that is i)ronounced espe-
cially blessed. I'll go with you, and reason with yon
about it.

TENTH EVENING.

Hazel Reads an AIh\<r(}}-y.

AFTER this evening's music, Hazel, without waiting
to be called on, jirodnced from his pocket a roll of
manuscript of such portentoiis dimensions that the club
was somewhat alarmed, and was only reassured on his
protesting that it would not take more than half an hour
to read it. After each one had lit -i cigar and settled
himself in the most comfortable chair he could find ( Parks
stretched himself on the sofa), Hazel proceeded to read as
follows :

" Long ago before the ages of history were born, there
dwelt on a wide, well-watered plain that spread away
to the horizon from the foot of a lofty moinitani range, a
happy people, scattered in small villages over its wide
extent. They were simple-minded and ignorant ; they

The "Scratch Club:'

Lin to he .r you

ikc to niniiii..u:
m tired of the

hirk one of the
jnounced espe-
ason with vou

ivithout waiting
locket a roll of
IS that the chih
eassured on his
in half an hour
i!;ar and settled
ould find ( Parks
ceded to read as

rt'ere horn, there
lat spread away
:)unlain range, a
;s over its wide
ignorant ; they

thought that the mountains, that stood like sentinels over
the plain, marked the Loundaries of the world. Here
they had dwelt for ages in content and .security, knowing
nothing of the world that lay beyond these mountain
ramparts or l)eyon(l the sea that embraced in its litpiid
circle llie greater part of the plain. Their days were
.spent in tending their flocks or in .sowing and reaping
Die fields that .stretched in gentle undulations on every
side of the villages. ,Stretched on couches of fragrant
heather, their nights l^rought hours of sweet repose that
restored strength to the tired limbs worn with their daily
toil. Generations jiassed, nor wished nor thoi ght of
change. High up, in one of the inaccessible peaks of
the mountains, dwelt a bright spirit called Kallitekne.
Her dwelling was in a sniall cave, jewelled with gems
wrought by the fairy fingers of the frost into strange
and beautiful shapes, which gleamed and burned under
tlic rays of the morning sun, and Hashed back with un-
diminished lustre the crimson hues of ids parting glance.
This s])irit knew all the .secrets that are hidden in words,
and colors, and sounds ; her magic touch could transform
the lowliest objects, till they seemed transfused with
divine beauty. The common words with which men
speak of conuuon things, her wand transformed into po
etry. The colors that the prodigal sun scattered .so
lavishly on cloud and hilltop, or on forest and flower, she
seized and transmuted them, and they became painting.
She caught tlie sounds that rose from the hum of village
life, or murmured in the trees, or prattled in the countless
sjjrings that descended the mountain sloi:)es, and they be-
came music. But poetry, painting, and music were as
yet unknown to man. Willing was Kallitekne to impart
her gifts to men. but the time was not come, and she
would be sought with ])atient, loving perseverance, lest
her gifts should be inulervalued. In a large cave, deep
in the recesses of the mountain, bare of ornament, and
unlit save by straggling ra> s of feeble light, that came,
one could not say from where, dwelt another spirit, of
severe but benign aspect. This s])irit knew all the secrets
of earth, air, and water. He weighed the winds and saw
their viewless path. He knew the forces that bound

The " Scratch Clubr

toecther each tinv atom in all the substances tha bull
utfile universe. -He kt.ew how the mouutam peaks had
L ro vn in such iantastic lornis ; how the wule phuus had
S oiled out at the,r base He had wrested its sec re
from the liglitning flash ; had measured the abysses tha
dTvde the stars. AH nature was to Inm an op.n lx.ok in
n familiar lauffuage Willin-, too, was he to impart his
gif r o mau'lmt'oiily on the inexorable condition th.it
fhey be sought with patience, submission, and, if need
,e suffering for thus only can his gitts be ob aiued and
priml at their true value. From time to tune here
r,u\d arise clear-eyed men, into whose souls ^^^^
some thoughts bevoud the contented life ot the plain,
such ;vould look longingly toward tlu. ^Unu hke i>eaks
where dwelt the spirit, Kalhtekne. bhe, ever read> to
elp the earnest suppliant, would breathe on them sonie
of her iiiagic power. Then, like children learning to
talk, or like lips trying to speak an unfamiliar tongue
hey would, in l^rokeii numbers, stainmer.ng a." leeb e
at first, but ever increasing m strength speak to the
fellow men of the heroic deeds of old days; of the
march of sun, moon, stars, and seasons; of the winter
s orm, that clothed the peaks with snow ; of the spring
that brought the swallow and the nightingale ; or ol the
daily avocations of farm and field, of s lepherd and hun-
ter \mtil their hearts glowed, and al common things
were suffused with a glory not of earth. Others-like
Jhem yet different-who looked lovingly on the changing
tints of meadow and forest as the cloud shadows sw-^p
over them, or watched the swift-changing splendors tha
srlowed on the mountain crests at rise or set of sun until
the secret of their l)eauty possessed their lumo.st sense
they, with patient labor, .sought for colored earths, and
gum=, and juices of plants ; and, such is the migh of the
tpirit's gift, with these poor materials, <-aught and fixed
on wall or canvas the trembling hues of sunset or the
wide stretches of heathery upland, with pool and brook
era/ing herd and flock. And men lound a beauty m
these things, whose existence they had never even sus-
Dected There were yet oth-rs filled with vague longnigs
that neither the living wo.-- .; of the poet nor the vivid

col«

son

sirt

clif

it a

nig

thi:

wii

the

anc

the

res

the

ble

spt

del

of!

sin

tlu

fro

flii

eac

th(

for

res

s that built
11 peaks had
J plains had
;d its secret
diysses that
pell lM)ok in
) impart his
ndition that
iiid, if need
ibtained and
time there

had entered
)f the plain,
idlike peaks
ver ready to
, them some

learning to
iliar timgue,
r and feeble
)eak to their
.ays ; of the
)f the winter
f the spring,
le ; or of the
jrd and hun-
nnion things

Others— like
the changing
iiailows swept
[)lendors that

of sun until
inmost sense,
d earths, and
i might of the
;lit and fixed
sunset, or the
ol and brook,
i a beauty in
ver even sus-
ague longings

nor the vivid

'///<■ " Srni/f/i Club.'

colors of the painter could satisfy. They listened ever for
some voice that should give form to tlieir shadowy de-
sires ; when the summer thunder rattled through the
cliffs, filling other men's hearts with dread, they heard in
it a hint of what they sought ; when, in the cool spring
nights, the niglitingales made earth and air vocal with
melody, they thought ' the voice we seek must be like
this ;' they listened to Uie melancholy nuinnur of the
wind in the tail pines, the gentle prattle of the fountains,
the roar of the torretits, the .songs of the birds, tlie laugh
and shout of happy chiKlren, and found in all a hint, but
no more, of what they sought. Beautiful as were all
these .sounds, the si)irit Kallitekne dwelt not \\\ them.
Then they grew weary with unsatisfied longing, and said :
' There is an ideal which can never be found in this life ;
we must wait until we pass througli the gate of death, to
the land beyond the mountain tops, wiiere the sun goes to
rest when he draws his goulen curtains around him.'
Then the spirit Kallitekne took pity o •. them and inspired
them with new hope, and they found that, from the hum-
l)le materials tliat lay about them, they ccmld evoke a
.spell to satisfy their dce])est longings, that even the gran-
deur of the thunder and the torrent or the sweetest notes
of the nightingale did not possess. Then from the river's
margin they cut reeds, from which they drew v )tes r,iore
mellow than the thrushes ; from the fibres of plants, the
sinews of animals, they twisted strings, and stretched
them on the empty shell of the tortoise, and drew .sounds
from them that could cheat sorrow to repose or rouse the
f-iint-hearted to deeds of valor. Thus the arts began ;
each one, taking the common things of life, transformed
them in the alembic of the luunan .soul, and they came
forth, dowered with eternal youth and beauty, as from a
resurrection that, leavi.ig the perishable body in the
grave, springs forth the imperishable, luidying spirit.

"Men also aro.se, of grave, tiioughtful a.spect, who
looked on the heavens and the earth and saw their won-
ders ; the circling course of planets, the waxing and
waning of moons, the rush of comets, and the faint gleam
of nebuke ; they marked the gathering of the thunder-
clouds and watched the whirling patn of the storm ; they

The " Scratr/i Club."

noted the passage of birds, the ways of animals, the
growth of plant, 1)lossom, and frnii ; they pondered
much on the strange forn)s and varit'd colors that were
stamped on the weather beaten scarp of the nunuitains ;
they looked witli clear-searching eyes on their fellow men,
and were ever questioning— earth, air, and sky ; bird,
beast and rock ; all men and themselves—' Why are these
things so ? Where shall we look for an answer? '

"Then they remembered the spirit that dwelt in the
silence of the unlit cavern, waiting and i)atient. To him
they went to seek the reasons of all things. But he said :
• It' is forlndden that man should know the secrets of
nature except he wrest them from her by patient toil.
But I breathe on you my spirit of power ; thus aided,
there is no hidden, most-cherished secret of earth, air, or
sky; of bird, beast, or plant; or even of man himself,
that you caiuiot penetrate, save only the myste;-y tliat
forever separates the thing made from the Maker.' With
these words the spirit placed in the hand of each one a
torcii, with ray so feeble and uncertain one could scarcelv
say it burned, and continued : ' This torch is called
Akriba. Husband it v ith jealous care ; walk l)y its light
with steadfast steps ; fear not to go wherever its light
may lead. If you preserve truth it will grow ever brighter,
until it hlls the world with its light. If false to your
trust, it will be quenched, and deeper darkness will wrap
tne world, that is waiting, and has waited, and must for
years wait for your guidance. Then the.se men went forth
endowed with' the power of this spirit and guided by the
light of their torches. Through many years they watched,
and waited, and pondered, ev(.r hopeful and patient,
though often reviled, and persecuted, and even put to
death by their fellow men. Yet they foinid worthy suc-
cessors, and passed the torch on when their hand grew
too feeble to hold it, and young men filled with the same
>pirit bore it on, growing ever brighter, and sending its
keen flash into many an ol)scnre corner, burning in its pure
flame many an outworn syml)ol, guiding men to nobler
thoughts of the universe, yet teaching them humility, as
they learned to recognize that they, too, spite of their fan-
cied superioritv, were but a part of the great harmonious

The " Scratch Club:

of animals, the

tliL-y jiondered
colors that were
the nunuitains ;
.heir fellow men,
and sky ; bird,
-' Why are these
inswer ? '
lat dwelt in the
)atient. To him
s. Bnt he said ;
,v the secrets of

by patient toil,
ver; thus aided,

of earth, air, or
of man himself,
he mvste;-y that
i Maker.' With
d of each one a
lie could scarcely

torch is called
walk l)y its liiiht
herever its light
ow ever brighter,

If false to your
irkness will wrap
ed, and must for
>e men went forth
lid guided by the
ars they watched,
;ful and patient,
and even put to
omid worthy suc-
tlieir hand grew
ed with the same
, and sending its
)urning in its pure
ig men to nobler
hem humility, as
spite of their fan-
great harmonious

work of Him who works through the ages. Yet science,
like art, wrouglit all her wonders with t'le commonest
materials. As one picked up and pondered on the stones
that strewed the patli of the mountain torrent, and, fol-
lowing up the torrent's bed, saw the grooved lines that
marked tie l)are .surface of the rock, where some mighty
force had plouglicd it like an autumn furrow, a sudden
Hash of his torch sliowcd him, l)ack through dim ages, a
sea of ice, covering mountain and valley, and moviiig
ever, in slow, resistless majesty, to the ocean. One, with
a piece of globular glass, flashed his torch into the mar-
vellous world that peoples with strange life every drop of
water or grain of dust. Another .sent the flash ol his
torch through the universe, and revealed to wondering
men the history of suns, .stars, and worlds from that time
in the dim eternity of the past when suns and stars, with
their obedient worlds, were a formless chaos. Others
there were who tamed the Titanic son of fire and water,
or bridled with l)rass and iron the wild lightning All
the.se things, and countless others, were done by submit-
ting humbly to the laws of nature and by ft)llowing loy-
ally wherever the light of the torch showed the way.
Thus through many centuries grew the arts and sciences,
each one helping and heljjed by all the others. Ihit it
came to pass that men began to dispute which spirit had
bestowed the most valuable gifts, and the rivalrv grew in
bitterness, although there was perfect amitv between the
spirit of the mountain peak and the .spirit of the unlit
cave, both of whom had warned men that patience and
humility were the chief requisites in all who would serve
them. At last the dissension grew so bitter that the
dwellers on the plain were divided into hostile camps,
and, growing weary, at length, of cea.seless wrangling]
they agreed to separate, and each build their citv", witli
the breadth of the plain between them.

" Then arose a fair city, fair as a dream of Paradise, the
home of the worshippers of Kallitekne, adorned with
all that men have since deemed beautiful in architecture.
.Streets there were, gleaming with the cold chaste perfec-
tion that, ages after, was t(j revive in Athens. Wide
avenues, where tall spires and graceful arches shot

1 1

The ''Scratch Clubr

heavenward, like sprinsin- flames In others slender
minarets and hell-like domes seemed to float self-poised
in air, rich with bewildering lace work xyronght in
stone the far-ofl" echo of the fame of which fired the
genius of the builders of the Alhanibra. Streets and
buildings were peopled with statues of marble bronze
sil^T a^Kl gold, that made visible all the possibilities of
beauty and dignity in the human form, hvery wall of
temple or dwelling-house glowed with pictured dreams,
that strove to give reality to the vaguest, deepes aspira-
tions of the soul for a solution of the mystery of hie.
Maily and strange were the instruments ot music they
contrived, whose wailing, seductive tones, sunk the
hearers in exhausting languor, or excited fierce einotions
or half-formed purposes, while at the same tune they
destroved the will to pursue them. So comple e finally
was tiieir subjection to art that religion, w'lll, moral
sense-all succumbed, and all that was not art was ba.se
and tearful superstition, fostered and intensified liy art.
So they settled themselves in the belief that life was made
for art ; that l«iowledge was the vain pursuit of an ever-
fiying shadow ; that religioi/ was passive obedience to
fate They blindly neglected the commonest prudences
for the preservation of healthy life. And a fierce pesti-
lence seized them ; weakened by efl-eminate living and over-
V oSght emotion, they fell an easy prey to the destroyer,
and death-like silence fell on the bright ci y of palaces.
Grasses grew between the stones of the marble payements,
a^d slowly but surely rent them to fragments ; the winds
Sdged seeds in the crevices of temple and tower, their
tiny roots, swelled by summer rams, wedged apart the
well-fitted stones, and brought pediment and architrave,
lowering spire and column to the ground in hideous con-
fusion, which (as though their hurtful superstitions had
taken iving form and were loth to leave such congenial
haunts) became a home for hissing, venomous serpents.
Sit Ion- before this final consummation blotted out their
n^ne and citv, the spirit Kallitekne had forsaken hem,
and her counterfeit, called Nomiko. had possessed them,
and hastened their fall. . .

^ The followers of science also built a city. The situa-
tion was chosen with care on the banks of a deep rapid

The " Scratch Club.

:)tliers. slender
oat self-poised
k wrought ill
hicU fired the
. Streets and
narble, bronze,
possibilities of

Every wall of
ctnred dreams,
deepest aspira-
nystery of life.

of music they
nes, sunk the
fierce emotions
ame time they
lomplete finally
Ml, will, moral
ot art was base
eiisified by art,
at life was made
suit of an ever-
ve obedience to
oncst prudences
id a fierce pesti-
; living and over-
;o the destroyer,

city of palaces,
irble pavements,
lents ; the winds
and tower, their
edtjed apart the

aiid architrave,

in hideous con-
uperstitions had
; such congenial
lomous serpents,
blotted out their
L forsaken them,

possessed them,

city. The situa-
; of a deep rapid

river, that cour.sed, with many wanderings, over the plain
on its way to the .sea, not far from which tlie city was
situated. Long lines of wide streets ran from tlie stone
<|uays()n the river's margin, crossed at equal distances
l)y others as wide, all paved with wear-defying material
and swejit free even from dust ; no horses were seen on
the streets, but noi.seless vehicles glided up and down
filled with passengers or, on the streets .set apart for the
l)urpose, witii loads of merchandise. At night, sun-like
globes, on lofty towers, made the .streets bright as mid-
day. Wide parks and copious fountains of clear water
were lavished everywhere. In one quarter were the
dwelling-hou.ses, almost destitute of ornament, but replete
with everything that can minister to health or comfort.
In another cjuarter, towering fiictories rai.sed their blank
walls and made the ground tremble with the roar and
rattle of machinery. In another were reared vast gloomy
warehouses in wliich were stored the products of the
world, which large, swift vessels were discharging, day
and night, on the quays. In another, vast laboratories
were built, where silent, thoughtful men pored day after
day over crucibles and retorts and batteries, and wrung
from reluctant nature the secrets of her alchemy. Others,
pondering over the scanty fragments of a life of older
times — gathered from river )ed, or stone quarry, or the
deep, dark gallery of the mine, — traced with almost super-
human skill, the cour.se of life from its humble beginnings.
Others with keen knife and still keener eyes, traced the
path and noted the working of each vein, nerve, and
artery in the human frame, and grew so .skilled that
disea.se was almost banislied from their city. For years
the city grew in prosperity, health, and knowledge, yet
the people began to wear a strange look of weariness, as,
though the increase of knowledge had increased their
sorrow. It seemed as if their capabilities for pleasure
had evaporated under the ponderous exhaust glass of
science.

" Poetry, painting, and mu.sic were almost forgotten, or
were looked on with pitying indifference as the amuse-
vnents of the unilluminated. y\ll feltor affected indiffer-
ence to art and practiced indifference to artists, looking
on them from the lofty towers of science, much as a man

The " Siratch Club."

looks on a rnther superior typo of vSiiiii;mor otlier inferior
animal. Tlic artists, one by one, kit them and took np
their abode in the rival - Hy, and tlie people linaiiy U^x\ioi
Heauty and bt i ."'ed < /■ in 'tility, a ('ivoree whiili evr
ha,-. ai>.'. e er n^' ; '•t?' ■,. ..',,-l itn. f on its j.erpetrat ts.

"Au evil spi,;: a!-'. -Mlied Hypothesia, took jiosses-
sionoftheni md ,v,i <]>><! heir understandings, till they
vaiidv thought th,- lavn. •; "illowed to its inmost recess
the hiding of the miad, l;. had surprised the secret
of its origin and working ; or. having traced by dim,
inicertain signs the path of the Creator through the ages,
they had solved the m> stery of the generation of all
things ; or, .seeing that the ever-changing comt)ination of
changeless atoms was the law of the material world, they
said : ' Life and death are but names for chemical afiuiities
and reindsions, even what Ignorance calls niind or soul
is nought but the manifestation of a complex chenueal
union of these indestructible eternal atoms.' vSo they
looked on leligiou as the dream of untaught savages ;
art as the amusement of children : emotion as weakness,
and .summed up the laliorious result of exiieriment and
.speculation in the saying : 'Life is not worth living. It
is too short to realize all the possibilities of attainment,
and death stops its advance for ever.' vSo they grew ever
more hopeless and railed at life as a cheat that lured them
with a delusive show of potencies, soon to be quenched
in endless night.

" At this time took place one of those mighty migra-
tions that rolled their successive waves over the f:>ce of
the world. A strong race of nomads pushetl westward,
seeking new homes and fresh pastures for their flocks.
Then they were ignorant, and superstitious, and often
cruel, but' believing in good and evil, and therefore cajia-
ble of attaining all things. With childlike wonder they
saw the great citv, and heard the roar of its thousand
factories, and .saw' the swift msjtion of mighty engines or
the moonlike radiance of its lofty light-towers. Then the
child's spirit of destruction .seized them, aided by super-
stitious fears of the wonders they saw. The people of
the city, well-supplied with death-dealing appliances,
easily drove them from the city and held them at bay.

The " Scratch Clubr

otlier inferior
I and took n])
• finally forj^ol
rco wliiih cviT
.■trat .rs.
, took jiosscs-
ini;s, till they

inmost recess
ifd the secret
■aceil 1)y dim,
jni;li the ages,
eralion of all
omhination of
al worlil, they
mical afiuiities

mind or sonl
plex chemical
ns.' So they
ni^ht savages ;
1 as weakness,
xiieriment and
irth living. It
of attainment,
Lhey j^rew ever
hat hired them
) be qnenched

mii:;hty migra-
er the face of
lietl westward,
)r their flocks,
ons, and often
therefore ca]xv-
:e wonder they
if its thonsand
:lity engines or
ers. Then the
tided by snper-
The people of
ng appliances,
I them at bay.

lUil the ■ unties.' hosts camped alxmt Mk walls and
waited ' ail starvation came to helj) them against the
doi.iiie.l citv. The belief Mia* life was not worth living'
also helped them ..till more fatally, for strong men, grow-
ing hopeless, forgot all ties of duty or kindred, of defence-
less women and children, and destroyed with violent
hands the life they thought so worthless, until none were
left to defend the walls ; then, with shouts of triumph,
the savage Hordes dashed through the streets, maddeneti
with long waling, killing indi.scriminat'jly old and young,
women and children, and, with ponderous chibs and huge
.stones, they broke the costly works of the skilful engi-
neers ; others, torch in hand, fired the tall factories and
warehouses, and many fell victims to their own destruc-
tiveness, ;is thundering e.Kplosions brought the lofty walls
crashing to the ground. vSo complete was the desolation
that a smouldering heap of ashes and smoke-blackened
stones, 'diarred beams and strangely-twisted bars of iron
alone remained to mark the site of the prosperous city.
Slowly, as the years went by, the winds .scattered the soil
of the plain over the ruins, the wild vine and bramble
covered with briglit verdure the unsightly stones ; then
.seedling trees took root and grew vigorously, adding by
the yearly fall of their leaves to the covering of the city's
grave, till the very desert wanderers, who still had a dim
tradition of the home of wonders their remote forefathers
destroyed, pitched their tents ar.d built their watchfires
on its site, nor dreamed that the forest that .'sheltered them
from sun and wind had its roots deep down in the decay-
ing remains of the fabled city."

Parks. Well, what's the meaning of this long-winded
storv ?

Da/ton. It's visi1)le enough. Kven you might have
swallowed it, for you have been asleep with your mouth
open the l-.st half hour.

Dr. C.oodman. Very good, Plazel. You have carried

,out your plan and indicated your moral very well. If I

may venture a critici.sm, I think your use of adjective.

and epithets is a little too redundant. The iiouri and the

k*. .<;<'. 'a

The " Scnitcli Club"

vt.rh_tlii; lliiiij^' and the action performed— are '.vhal \(\\^
vigor to writing. Adjectives soon grow tiresome unless
sparingly used.

Crabbc. They are like needless tnodnlations in music,
which always betray i)aucity of invention. A ^,ymphony
of Mozart or Beethoven won't have a fourth part of the
modulating a nocturne of Chopin has.

Parks. There you go! Mozart, Beethoven— Beethoven,
Mozart ! Von think mu^ic began and ended with them.
Dr. Coodman. Can't you suspend the everlasting mu-
sical wrangle for once, if only out of regard for Hazel?
Have you nothing to say about his allegory ?

Crabbc. I am very uuich pleased with it. I begin to
have hopes of all of you. I have developed a poetic vein
in Dalton ; an allegoric vein in you. It only remains to
make something of Parks ; he has not shown any marked
intellectual tendency yet ; but it will come ; it will come.
Parks. It may come when you don't expect it and in a
way that will hardly j.lea.se you.

Crabbc. I wager he is, l)y slow. dilTicult increments,
producing some withering satire on us. Isn't it so.
Parks?

Parks. Wait, and see.
Crabbc. We wait and trend)le.

/;;-. Coodman. You all seem determined to talk of any-
thing Imt Ila/.el's paper. Como, Hazel ; let us go to-
gether. I would like to .say something more to you

about it.

Crabbc. That's right. We will talk fast enough about
it when you are gone. Hazel. We are afraid of making

vou vain.

Dr. Goodman. That is administering the pill first— the
sugar-coating afterwards ; Crabbe's favorite practice.

Hazel. Good night, and don't spare me 1 My evil star
is in the sign Caucer.

—are whal i;,'\\c
Lirc'some unless

tioiis in music,

A symphony

irth i)art of tV.c

en — Beethoven,
Lied wilh Iheni.
everlasting mu-
j;ar(l for Hazel ?
ry?

it. I begin to
lecl a poetic vein
only remains to
jwn any marked
le ; it will come.
qicct it and in a

cult increments,
,s. Isn't it so,

;d to talk of any-
1 ; let us go to-
ng more to you

ist enough ahoiit
ifraid of making

;he pill first— the

irite practice.

ic 1 My evil star

ELKVKNTH EVENING.
O/ycnr, .-hfini^^ and Music.

CWV, talk was started this evening l)y i'arks launching
out in rapturous panegyric on a late performance hy
an Italian opera troupe. His enthusiasm roused the bile
of Crahlie and Dalton, making tliem, of course, more and
more depreciative as his enthusiusm rose.

Parks. In spite of all your sneers at sensuous music, I
still say and think that music has reached its highest,
most jierfect expression in o])era, particidarly Italian
ol>era ; tlie best proof of which is the universality of its
appreciation. No doubt the public s easily misled, but,
in the long run, their judgment is pretty sure to be
right.

Dalton. Yes ; i)retty sure to be right as to what they
like. But that is no proof that the>' ought to like it ; or,
rather, I sliouUl say, no proof that opera is what you
claim for it.

Crabbc. I have no hesitation in .saying that it is, with
nine out often liearers, the singing, the plot, the .scenery,
the acting— an\ thing but the music— that they rave
about. They say, "Wasn't Squallini wonderful in the
.shadow song? Such execution! such acting!" Or,
"Didn't Howletti make an astoni.shing effect with his
high C?" Or, "Marvellous bass that Growlou.ski 1
Went four octaves below the bass clef!" You never
hear a word about t'.ie »iusu\ unless it be from some rash
musician whose temerity leads him to say that he doesu't

( 75)

Tlu- " ScraUli Club."

think Poiiizitti or Rclliiii ns k'><»1 ^'^ M'l/art or Gluck,
wlicu he is (IcscrvcMlly smil)h«.'il Iiy luiiiK tohl, "Oh, you
musicians pretend to iikc nothing but ' scicntifu' ' music."
Paiks. Well, music is meant to he heautif.il, isn't it?
And what is more Ijeaiitilul than a melody of Bellini?

Palton. Hellini was a genius. His melodies arc heau-
titnl ; but can't you conceive the possibility of a much
higher degree of beauty, that reveals itself only to a cho-
sen few? Now there is a beauty in a (piartette or sonata
of Mozart or Ikethoven, or a fugue of Bach, that to those
that can see it makes all opera seem tawdry.

Crabbc. Right, Dalton! Cotton-velvet an<l spangles,
stage tricks and scene painting, degrade nuisic. I won-
der if there are many operas that would bear being sung
like oratorios. This would be a splendiil test of their
musical (piality. Fancy "Lucia" or "Lucre/ia" sung
by the Boston " Handel and Haydn." I km)W very few
operas that could staiul it, say like " iMdelio," or " Don
Giovanni," or " Acis and Galatea."

Parks. But that is not fair. The opera is made to be
sung with certain surroundings, dre.ss, scenery, and ac-
tion. It is nnjust to sejiarate it from these and then con-
demn it because it is not oratorio.

Dallou. Don't you see? You give the ([uestion away
when you say it lunh these accessories to make it effect-
tive—lhat the music alone is not enough. Now the
operas that Crabbe mentioned have been sang like can-
tatas, and have not lost their effect by the loss of the
accessories.

Dr. Goodman. Judging from your remarks, I should
gather that you l)oth think oratorio or cantata is superior
to opera. I am glad to hear it, for, although my profes-
sion has debarred wvi from much familiarity with the
opera, it has always seemed to me an amusement befitting

;arl or Gluck,
)Ul, "Oh, you
itifu' ' music."
lil'.il, isn't it?
of Bellini?
lies arc hcau-
ity of 11 uuu'li
onlv to a clio-
Ic'ttu or sonata
I, that to those

and spangles,
nusic. I won-
ar hcin;j; snn>;
il tfst of their
ucrc'/.ia" snnj;
know very few
ilio," or " Don

is maile to be
eiiery, and ac-
:• and then con-

([uestion away
make it effect -
li^h. Now the
sung like can-
the loss of the

larks, I shovtld
iitata is superior
in.ii;h my profes-
iarity with the
bemeut befitting

//l<' " ScnifJi ( •/„/,'

;;

9:?:f:;r:-::-;:;:;;;;-:-::;:,--"';
: n';!r,:r:rT.::":,:-:,r- --

nil Lomuls; when people r,,ht duels, o.„un,l Mu.nl • «
suicide, or treason m- ir ■ '"unkr, oi

-U« or duos, even after they arc dead ..rneariv so'

thile with lii" Tr: '""''"'' """"''^ ^^'^•'^^^'^" «-npa-
thi/^ u,th he po..tK-al aspect of these things. ' '

/.//... My poeticalnature revolts against the contact
ot these hase, unpoetic things.

/'"/;/•.. IJut art ennohles whatever it touches.

/WA-.. In thee cases the art does not touch then, at
•". It .s forced nuoan u.u.atural union with then

nals or basest passions to teach the brightest purest le<
sons Hut this is not the mission ,^ „„ ' ^ "^^^

nonngtodowithconcretepassionoraeti:.,;,J\ i*^

uie'm;:;::^"

the nu^oiigruousness is not so apparent in a regi, n wee
everything IS supernatural. ^K>"n wiierc

Mo„. J have always thought this the best argument
Wv agam. „,a^„, ,.,,,„ ,

ab ml ,h , '•'•'"■^'''^'^■'.'^ to .sayin, that the thing is ,so

h^dof '""'"*"' '"'''"'' yourself translatec'to the

and of Jenesai.spasou •' to keep it from doing violence

to your understanding. '»*, Moieiice

The " Scratch C/iib."

Parks. I believe you two would have allthe v.orld gu c
up goiug to Lhe opera. I dou' t think you 11 succeecl.
Dalton. We don't wish to do anything of the kind
Crabbe. Not a bit. AH thi.s wisdom is poured out
simply for the enlightenment of yourself. ^-^ m>- part^
I gfve up. long ago, thinking or carnig anyth ng a out
public taste I always look askance on those aiti.ts
;;t ta\l of elevating the public taste. U generally
means putting a few dollars in the virtuoso s pocket. _
amciuiJe hapity if the public taste prefers opera to oratono
or opera boufTe to grand opera, or negro ^}-^ ^^^
of them, l)Ut I don't bke to hear a musician talk heres>
without trying to open his eyes.

Parks Very kind of vou. I am satisfied so long as the
,„ajority of the music-loving are with me hi my heresy _
Crabbe. -Ephraim is wedded to his idols; let him

alone."

Dr Goodman. Having disposed of Parks, tell me, some

of you. why vou think oratorio so much better than opera
I eonfess mv' preference is chiefly founded on the fact that
the oratorio is drawn from the sacred story, and that the
opera deals so largely with such immoral stor.e.s-stones
that decent people would not read, yet strangely enough,
will listen to and applaud when set to music.

Dalto, Mv admiration of oratorio is founded on the
])elief that it'is a higher form of composition, it admit,s ot
„.ore elaborate musical treatment, being unhampered by
the necessities of action.

Crabbe Over and above these reasons, I admire it be-
cause it does not give the same opportunity to the vanity
of the singers. They play all sorts of pranks with opera
airs, but the most conceited hardly dare to take liberties
with the music of Han.lel and Mendelssohn. By the
way, it is very difficult to find good solo singers for ora-

The " Scratch Ciub."

all the V, orld give
on' 11 succeed,
g of the kind,
in is poured out
:lf. For my part,
ig anything about
\ those ' ' artists
itc. It generally
tuoso's pocket. I
s opera to oratorio,
o minstrelsy to all
Lisiciau talk heresy

sfied so long as the
ine in my heresy,
lis idols ; let him

'arks, tell me, some
li better than opera,
ded on the fact that

story, and that the
oral stories— stories
t strangely enough,

music.

) is founded on the
osition, it admits of
iug unhampered by

3ns, I admire it be-
tunity to the vanity
f pranks with opera
are to take liljerties
mdelssohn. By the
solo singers for ora-

torio. Opera singers and son;-- singers won't do at all ;
the)- are like fish out of water ; they gasj) and struggle to
make " effects," and succeed only in convincing the
judicious of their incapability. I could mention several
that are well known in America. I could also mention
several that will compare with any oratorio singers in the
world.

Dallon. I will mention one — who, alas, is no more —
that, to my thinking, surpassed all the oratorio singers
we ever had— that was Parepa. The perfect vocalization,
the strict adherence to the text, the freedom from com-
mon])lace attempts at "effects" by ritardandos or accel-
erandos not indicated in the score, the utter absence of
self-display — these made up such an oratorio singer as
will not soon again be heard.

CralhH'. I always tliought it a pitj- she went on the
.stage. It was misdirected ambition.

Dr. Coodman. I never lost an opportunity of hearing
her in concert or oratorio, and always with increasing
pleasure.

Crabbc. Our di.scussion seems to have turned into a
threnody on Parepa. I don't like these mortuary exer-
citations, .so I'm off.

Parks. It makes him think of the very different way
people will "threnody " him some day.

€**

TWELFTH EVENING.
Hcrr Schuabcl Enlivens the Prorredings.

CHR conversation was very much enlivened this eve-
ning by the i^resence of Herr Sciniabel. The Herr
is a type of a very lumerous class of German musicians
in America, who, presuming on the fact that Germany
has produced the greatest nuisicians, despise the musi-
cians of all other countries and think themselves the
worthy successors of these great men, or even their supe-
riors— or, at least, their only authorized interprei-rs, with
about as much rcyison as the l^nglish playwrights of the
present day would have to look with contempt on the
dramatists of other nations because themselves were the
countrymen of vShakespeare. These nuisicians, though
often executants of no mean aliility, are composers of no
ability whatever; yet they gain great reputation for
knowledge, among the ignorant, by the easy process of
condenuiing the productions of all composers who are so
unfortunate as to have been born outside of the Father-
land. The club enjoyed the Herr's ' ' bouncing ' ' hugely,
and " drew him out " without mercy.

Dal/on. Yes; what you say of German musicians is
true. But can you tell me why it is so, Herr Schnabel ?

Schuabcl. Ja ;" it is only with the Germaii mind that is
found the mix of intellect and feeling to make the great
musician. No other people look so close in the nature or
dive so deep in the profound of the human soul. Music
■s the outcome, the flower, of German philosophy. I
(80)

The " Scratch Club."

redings.

med this eve-
;1. The Herr
lan nuisicians
hat Germany
)ise the nmsi-
lieiiiselves the
'en their supe-
irpret^rs, witli
.vrights of the
iteinpt on the
elves were the
;cians, though
mposers of no
reputation for
isy process of
_'rs who are so
of the Father-
ring" hugely,

1 musicians is
err Schnabel ?
[1 mind that is
make the great
n the nature or
1 soul. Music
philosophy. I

know— I have study all the s>steins— as I have mastered
the innermost motives that the all-human, experience-
infolding soul of tlie great composer has known.

Crahbc. Why do you not give to the waiting world some
of your own profound conceptions ? Whv has the genius
of Germany lain fallow since Beethoven passed away?

Schuabcl. It lies not fallow. We have taken up the
work where the hand of Beethoven could no lotigcr hold
It. We have compose sinfonie— I have compose sinfonie.
But the genius has always tlie enemies.

Crabhr Why, is not Germany ever ready to recognize
new de;-elopments of the national genius ? Or, have you
exiled yourself for the purpose of instructing us?

Schnabel. I come in America an art mis'^ionary, but
they know it not. The American mind is too gross to
enter the temple of art. Who think themselves musical
will listen to Mozart, or Beethoven, or Mendelssohn, or
Schumann, but they will not to kiiow what has been since
in music.

Da/ton. No doubt we have much to learn. When are
we to have the privilege of hearing your compositions ?

Schnabel. Bah! I have spid you Americans are '100
gross. I was most esteemed in Germany. They would
not that I sliould leave them ; but I am here.

Crabbe. It is strange that I never heard of you in Ger-
many. I spent a number of years in Leipzig, where I
heard all the Gewandhaus concerts. I often saw new
names on the programmes but never remember seeing
yours.

Schnabel (eon piria). I have scorn the Gewandhaus.

Whe:i I come in Leipzig with my compositions I find

nothing but enemies. They plot against me, that I will

'not be heard : they turn pale at the face when they look

over my sinfonie, and make excuses with sick smiles,

The " Scratch Club."

%"•■

and hurry a\va\-. Enraged, I shake my foot of their dust,
and say— I will go to America. America shall soon be the
leader in music. But, they love my music not at all. It is
nothing that I have enter in the temple and know the
secrets of art, while all othe"s stand on the threshold. The
world is not ready— I must die for a hundred years— then
they will knowSchnabel and worship his memory. [Here
the Herr bolted a huge draught of beer and bolted out,
taking inadvertently a handful of cigars with him.]

Dr. Goodman. Well, 1 hope that is not a specimen of
German musicians. A mixture of art slang, sham
philosophy, and self-conceit.

Crabhe. Heaven forbid ! whatever musical culture we
may possess in America, we owe to German nuisicians
chiefly, not men of this stamp, but artists whose rever-
ence for the mighty men their country has produced, has
made them modest al^out their own merits.

Parks. But they are always ready to crow al)out their
great musicians, even the liest of them.

Dallon. Who can blame them ? They have reason.
Crabbe. The osly fault is that they should think or say
that because the grea'test nuisicians were Germans, there-
fore all German musicians are great, or if not great, at
least better than all other musicians.

Dalton. It is a curious subject for speculation— win-
painting toirched its highest point in Italy, literature in
England and nuisic in Germany. I., it owing to mental
constitution or " environment, ' cr climate, or what is it ^
Dr Goodman. With regard to English literature, I
think the causes of its pre-eminence are easily found.
The chief cause is the possession for so much longer a
time than other peoples of freedom of speech. The
Anglo Saxon has always had a habit of boldly sayuig
his say, whether in religion or politics. This has
nourished the spirit of free inquiry and the habit of keen

of their dust,
all soon be the
ot at all. It is
nd know the
reshold. The
d years — then
emory. [Here
nd bulled out,
nth him.]
a specimen of
slang, sham

:al culture we

nan musicians

; whose rever-

pruduced, has

nv al)ont their

ive reason.
Id think or say
ermans, thcre-
f not great, at

iculation — why
y, literature in
A'ing to mental
, or what is it ?
li literature, I
; easily found,
much longer a
speech. The
boldly saying
OS. This has
e habit of keen

riic " Scratch Club!

«3

observation. With regard to Italian painting, i)erhaps
it is because painting became to them the higliest ex-
pression of the peculiar religious feeling of their time,
as church architecture was of an earlier time. Music
would seem to me to be the natural expression of a dreamy,
introspective, subjective people ; a people who strive to
analyze the vaguest, most fleeting impulses, who can
spend whole lives in Nepheloccocugia, as the Germans
do, in spite of their, at the same time, intensely ])raccical
nature. But there may be, likely are, other reasons too
occult to trace.

Crahbe. If you are right. Doctor, I fear there is little
hope for the product- jii of a great school of American
painters or musicians. And I don't know l)Ut that it is
ratlier a hopeful indication of our mental health, par.
ticularly as we already hold our own with the rest of the
world in literature.

Pr (nwihiiaii. I have no doubt that a liigh degree of
artistic culture, in any art but iMire wholesome literature,
is not an indication of a }iealthfn' mental develojiment.

DaUo)i. I wonder you are not afraid to say so, in these
days of "culture, " high art," and' " aestheticism."

Dr. (nyodnmii. Oh, these things ai\' only the whims of an
lu)ur, very few people and these ncl of much weight or
influence are in earnest a])Out them

Crabbc. Hazel has been dumb ail Ihe evening. I suji-
pose he is thinking how applical)le his allegory is to what
we are discu.ssing.

Hazel. I have l)een lost in wonder all the evening at
the boundless assurance of Herr Schnabel, it has deprived
me of the power of tliinking. Then whatever j'^« may
think, I think I have said my say on the subject of art
, and culture in my allegory, which you .seem disposed to
laugh at.

Crabbc. Oh, the tenderness of these incubators of one

7'/te " Stratr/i Clubr

cgR to their feathcrless progeny ! Truly I tliiiik your
allegory was no laughing matter, indeed we all agreed that
it was not, that night, after you left.

Dr. Goodman. Can't you let Hazel's allegory alone?
Hazel, he spoke in warm terms of it to me.

Crabbc. I .saw that Hazel was depres.sed, and hit on
that as the best way to restore his vigorous mind to its
wonted activity. My design was therapeutic.

Dr. Croodma)!. Well, from >-ou, that is a handsome
apology for a misdoing. Hazel, Kt us say good night
while he is in such an unusually gracious mood.

THIRTEENTH EVENING.

Discussion on Musical Memory^ Dr. Goodmim
Tells a Story — Crabbc Tells Another.

CHERE was very little playing this evening. Dalton
was suffering from rheumatism in his wrist and had
to give up. They talked of various 'matters, musical and
otherwise, and drifted at last into anecdotes of musicians,
and stories connected with music : several were told, l)Ut
the writer only kept notes of two. Dr. Goodman's story
was suggested by a discussion on musical memory. Dalton
maintained that musical memory was a certain indication
of musical ability, or at least always accompanied it ;
Parks, that musical ability was independent of memory,
because many fine players could not play unless the music

I tliiiik your

II agreed that

cgory alone?

, and hit on
s mind to its
c.

a handsome
,' good night
jod.

Goodman
oilier.

ing. Dalton
vrist and had
musical and
)f musicians,
i'ere lt)ld, but
d man's story
nory. Dalton
in indication
mipanied it ;
: of memor}',
2SS the music

Tkc " Scratch Clubr

was before them ; Crabl,e lamented that there was but
the one word, -musician," to designate all, from the
comjx.ser to tlie hand-organ grinder, and insisted that it
was as absurd to crdl a mere plajer, no matter how good
a nuis.c.an, as it wouhl be to call an actor a dramatist or
an elocutionist, a poet. All but Parks were agreed as to
the presence of musical memory being a sure indication of
musical abdity, and many well-known anecdotes of great
uu.sicans were cited in proof of it. So Parks finallv
gave in, Crabbe saying to iiim tliat he must certainly be
a genius, ],ecause he had heanlhim wliistle or hum every
operatic air from Rossini to \'erdi. Parks was about to
reply when the Doctor cut in, saying that if they wished
to hear his story they liad better stop their discussion.
On this hey settled themselyes to listen, and the Doctor
told the following story :

"In the neighborhood of a small town called Wain
ford, in Deyonshire, liyed a wealtl.v ^amtleSan nul his
wife, named Leighton. The>- had Tiacf th i hil en • t
the course o their life, two of whom died, and 'The
with one httle girl who was, r.l the time my story 1 1,,"
?dnlt^T years old-a bright, affectionate little creature
clohzed by her parents. Wa idering through the c un'
try side was an old vagabond, a welcome guesi 11 the
kitchens of the small farmers and the tap-rooms of le

^r^^\ ^T^v'^ "'' "" precarious liyeliUood by play it
on a bat ered fiddle some dozen old airs. The course of
his wanderings often brought him to Leighton Granjre
where he was always sure of a shilling ancl a s ibstanthl
dinner, his performance being highly relished by e ie
Bertha, especially a wild Irish or Scotch air, with w li di
he alway.s c ose<l his programme, and which I er ha
would make him play oyer ami oyer again, asking f<ri?

vers on "fT °^ ' ^^''''^""'^' ^'"^^■' ^vhich was 1 er own
version ot the unpronounceable ^ .die name rnrnbnKl,,

, Gearan-Hachin,; ' Hector's Appeal ' . l^^!^"^^
lu Mr.. Leightou's employ was a rather pretty gid, Mar-

I I

i: mI

The " Scratch Cub:'

tha Downs, of violent, unj^ovtrnable temper, bui so much
attached to her little charge, with whom she was always
.reiitle and patient, that her mistress overlooked her vio-
lent outbursts, and, though she often warned H^-r. ^tdl
retaine<l her in her service. This girl had a lover, a
worthier, fellow fn.m the neighboring tovyn, halt black-
smith whole poacher, who was constantly losing his situ-
atio s on account of the troubles he gel mto with all the
eame'keepers in the county. When out of place, or out
of luck! he- found a ready sympathizer in Martha, who
gave or lent him her earnings, and at length began ap-
propriating small articles in the house to .supply the wants
li her ueedv lover. These pett>- tlietts being discovered,
and traced' to her, she was merely discharged, the k nd.
iiess of her mistress not allowing her to prosecute her.
About three months after her departure Bertha disap-
peared ; how. was a mystery not unravelled for many weary
years, although all the machinery of the police was put n,
motion, and Stimulated to unwonted activity by the o tei
of immense rewards. Hopeless and hearl-brukcn, he.
parents mourned their loss, waiting in vaiii for tK.ings ol
their child. The discharged .servant, Martha, had never
been seen in the village or the neighborhood since .she
left the Leightons, but it was she. as vyas long alter dis-
cov^^etl, who stole Bertha. She must have watched with
ex.v.ordinarv skill and patience for weeks for an oppor-
tunr.v to be' revenged on her late ""Stress, and at ta.
same' time to gratifv the .strange affection she felt for Btr
tha bv kidnapping her. This she contrived to do, and,
returning swiftlv to London, now her home, slie com
pletely eluded even suspicion. .She soon grew tired oi
her self-imposed burden, and, being now marrieu to liei
scampish lover, who found a congenial aui.onimere .or In.-,
talents in London, she sought for some t-.-.eaiis to get nO
of Bertha, meanwhile treating her witli rou.stantv -increas-
ing crueltv. Hearing of a childless couple who wishea
to adopt a little girl she, by some means, gained acce.s.N
to them, taking Bertha with her. one told a well-con-
cocted stor>'. and the people, struck with the beauty m
the pitiful little face, which pleaded more eloquently
than the words of the unprincipled woman, took her ^o

^r, buv so much
ilic was always
.(joked her vio-
ir'ucd hor, still
liad a lover, a
jvn, half black-
losing his situ-
ito with all the
of place, or out
11 Martha, who
iigth began ap-
iil)ply the wanbi
iug discovered,
rged, the kiiuh
) prosecute her.
, Bertha disap-

for many weary
olice was put iii
■ity l>y the offet
arl-broken, hei
n for tidings ol
rtha, had never
rhood since she

long after dis-
i^e watched with
:s for an oppoi-
■ess, and at ths;
she felt for Ber
ived to do, and,
home, slie com
n grew tired oi
.' mnrrieti to hei
ii.or>imere for hi.-,
i-.eaus to get rid
ustantlv-increas-
.iple who wisheo
IS, gained acces.».
told a well-con-
h the beauty o\
more eloquently
aau, took her ♦o

T/if " Scrtitc/t Club:

their home and tlieir hearts, calling jicr * Elsie ' the mnu-
of the on y child Hay ever ha.l, who died wh ,', aboJ 1 c-
age of Bertha. She soon learned to l..\e her adon ed
paren s, an.l the fast-fading me.nories of her lumie a S o '

gentSli-^A^;. 'sSn,^:^:: TT't^:^^, ^

'le^Sth'Vr"^'^^ 1 !^''«'-"' ""-^-iaU:^ weiu'; ;

Xa-Th-;,s.;e^^^^^

- re t^ f^'\ "' '""r>- ^vas exhausted ,n .^.'hg' , e

JnmdnthTr 'I' /""''' °" ""'''''''^ ''' Wain ford^ she
,1 that her relative, an aunt with some menus had
died some years before, and lier son had turned her lit lo
property intocasl, and en.igrated to Anieric O, te b ok
e down by this last addition to her misfortune, she fdl
■11. and poor Ivls.e had to bear the whole burden not oil
of nursing her, but of providing for the v a t ' of both

tiSm' 1?' '"V^" '''^T "Hx'ople in the tow:n i nte elw
tliei.-^elves in her unliappy story t^'ive her wnrl- .
needleu.,„Kni, by which 'ht^ontrr^ed o\e^l l^ilf'!;;,^
he mother from stan-ing. ,She was neat and exped io ,s
ith her need e. and tliey all commended lur in lus so
high y tha when Mrs. Uightou happened to ^^iZ
one that_ she would recommend a sewing-girl to her 11-
sie s praises were sounded so loudlv that Mrs } ei Jiiton

f" 1 ei roo . The good heart of the old ladv warmed
b 'Z?L'' '■'' •'^^^'^^^-.P-'^tient girl who bore 1 e Jieav y

uiouier, and ,>,tiove, l)y ever\- menus in her iKwer to oIIp
v.ate her pams. But the kind offices came'to 1 ite ■ she
, .slow:ly faded and after a few months c>f suffei^c! -^,;i;; "
borne, died, and Elsie was again a homcie.« 'o^ an

s.s

The " Scratch Club:

Mrs Leighton had grown so attached to her thct she in-
sisted on her Hving witli her as a companion. This poor
I'lsie was oiilv too happv to <lo, .md once more her tlays
grew bright and passed swifllv, and her fair face wore a
smile of cahn content. One lovely snminer inorning Mr.
and Mrs. Leighton were sitting in tlie veranda lu iront
of their house, talking in low tones, as was their wont, ol
their long-lost child, when an old man, hlmd and inlirm,
wandered up the pathway towards the house, and, taking
from under his threadbare coat a battered old vio in, ])e-
gan to plav. With a .shock of mingled pam and jdeasuie
thev recognii/.ed the vagabond fiddler that used so to
charm little Hertha, and whom they had .seen but once
since Bertha's* disappearance, when, %vith a sum that sup-
plied his wants for manv a day, they dismissed him wit.i
a reciuest not to return. With bitter tears streaming
down their faces, they listened as he played, one after
another, his familiar stock of tunes. Ivlsie, who was in
the doorway when he began to play, was strangely
affected, and unconsciously drew near. With trembling
limbs and starting eyes, she looked wildly at the once-
familiar scene ; she listened with increasing agitation to
the once-familiar airs. Soon the old fiddler reached his
last tune— the old, wild Gctlic air. lie had played but a
fevvmeasures when Bertha, with a flood of loi-.g-forgotten
memories welling up in her heart, carried back to her
long-lost childhood, cried, ' It is "Granny king ! Oh,
Mother! father! Dcm't you know mc ? I am liltle
Bertha ' ' Here my story ends. Who can describe their
ioy on being so strangely united ? Needless is it, too, to
say that the wanderings of the old fiddler were at an end,
and that a comfortable cottage slieltered him for the rest
of his years. My story is true. I knew Bertha well ;
she i- now the mistress of her old home and the mother
of several lovely children, and no wandering minstrel, be
he never so tattered or poor, ever goes away empty from
her hospitable door."

When the Doctor had finished his story every one lit a
fresh cigar and tried to find a more comfortable position.
Crabbe\iuted that he thought the young woman ought

Tlu- " Scratch Cluh."

icr thc't she iii-
,011. This poor
more htr days
air faco wore a
IT nioniinj^ Mr.
L-raiula in iroiit
■, tliuir wont, of
iiul and infinn,
ISC, and, taking
1 old violin, i)c'-
un and jjluasure
liat used so to
1 seen bat once
a sum that sup-
lissed him witli
tears streaminj^
layed, one ai'lcr
sic, who was in

was strangely
With trembling
lly at the once-
ing agitation to
iUer reached his
lad played but a
)f lor.g-forgotten
ied back to he
ly King ! " Oh,
It? I am little
\\\ describe their
Hess is it, too, to
r were at an end,
him for the rest
ew Bertha well ;

and the motlier
;ring minstrel, be
iway empty from

■y every one lit a
Portable position,
mg woman ought

to, or might have, fotnid out sooner who she was. Dalton
said that very likely the knowledge or suspicion had lor
some time been unconsciously growing on her, and th..
old violin-player's melody was like the spark t<i the tin-
der, and made all her apparently-forgotten associations
and memories flame ui> to sudden brightness. Parks
wanted to know if they thought she gave sure indications
of musical ability, but his question was ignored as irrele-
vant. Crabbe then said he would tell them a musical
story, but memory had nothing to do with it. lie had
heard it from a fnend whose business required his resi-
dence for a year in the town where the events narrated in
the story took place. All the members pressed him to
proceed with his story, knowing well that there would
be fun of some .sort in it, or Crabbe would not think it
worth the telling.

Dibbleville is a quiet, out-of-the-way town in one of the
New iMigland States, no railroad runs within twenty
""-'tv, 1 • "•n'-''V ^''""J^'l't it worth its while to construct
a Dibblevdle Hranch," no summer boarder has ever
uivadcd It, or ever will. It has no scenerv, no fishing,
no boating, not c-ven a grove of trees large enough to
shelter summer flirtations. Nothing but wide cornflelds
dusty roads, and white frame hou.ses dotted irregularlv
overthefields or, in Dibbleville proper, ccmdensed into
a slragghug little cluster which ends abruptly with the
•street, at the picket fence, white-washed of course, of the
white frame Congregational church, where good Father
Alliope Ins preached and prayed, to nearlv three genera-
tions of Dibbleville church-goers. Standing in front of
the church you have at one view all the beauties of Dib-
bleville —architectural of course I mean. On the rieht
hand, the first house, with a lantern over the street door
always lit o nights, is the hard-worked village doctor'.s.
I. McBolus M. D.," is on his bright brass doorplate.
^ 1 lirough the open windows of his ofhce on the ground
floor, you can occasionally catch a glimpse of .s(jme fear-

The " Scmtch Club."

) 3;;

HI.

stricken rustic, gazing arouml him with awed visage on
the l.iK an.l liHU- l.oltlcs ..l" all cnlers that lino Uk' Unctor >
shclvJ;!.. Alter y..u pass the I)..clor's K^r-lcn the next
house is tlie little coltaRe ol the wulovv Smiles llm
she lives with her overK'n.wn son Johnny, the prule ot her
heart Tlien comes an open field nhere all the geese,
ducks, and chickens of the village meet m daily cmivocv
tion. Then the l.lacksinilh's shop from which comes all
day long the s.mgh of the bellows, or the- nng ot the
anvil .'is"()ldJelT,"ashe is called, and "\onngJell,
his son, blow up the glowing. fire, or hammer at the shoes
for the sleepy horses that are tethered to the fence, vvlik
their scared V less sleepv owners lounge on the benches
i„ front of the neighboring tavern, exchanging scraps ol
talk about crops and fallows, or cows and calves, or
pigs ami politics. On the left side, opposite the Doctor h,
is the country " store,' kept bv shrewd Nicholas Driver.
No one can tell him who should have credit, and who ..e
made t.) pay cash, or where is the best place m Bo.ston
to buy gocls ; he is reported the richest man m he county
and probably is, and deserves to be. lie has liiree assis-
tants in the •' store.- The wi.low Smiles s Johnny pre-
sides over the grocery department A pale melancholy
youth, who oils his hair, ICdward Trimble, dispenses the
yards of ribb:)n and calico, or papers of pins and needles
to the farmers' buxom daughters, by whom (the daugh-
ters of course) he is th.mght ■• sweet " to the deep dis-
cust of their hobnailed admirers. Mill Davis, a red-haired,
sciuare-set youth has eharge of the hardware and .shoe de-
partment. Old Nicholas sits at Ins raised desk, keeping
a sharp eye on thein all, ;.nly descending when the
presence of some of the more important of the Dibblevill-
lans requires some special attention from him in person.
The next house, the only brick house m the village, is
Lawyer Sharpe's, a keen, wiry little man, with gray hair,
and gold spectacles. Then conies the new drug store
just opened, by a "Graduate in Pharmacy, as his franieo
diploma announces, from Boston, a pale, pimp y-faced
young man, who looks as if he were always .smel hug at
some nauseous drug. Doctor McBolus was rather in-
clined to look on the drug " store" and its proprietor.

1 nwccl visaKt-* »'"

. lilK'tlK'Dnt-tor'^

;ar(lcii Uic uosl
w Siniks. Ikii'
•, tlic pride of lifv
re all the jj;cfst.',
in daily coiivofa
which comes all
r the riiin of the
[1 " Vouun Jeff, "
inner at the .sh()e:i
I the fence, while
on the benches
langin^ scraps of
,s anil calves, or
isite the Doctor's,
Nicholas Driver,
redit, and who he
L place in Hoston
man in the county
e has lliree assis-
les's Johtniy pre-
pale, melancholy
l)le, dispenses the
pins and needles
diom (the dauj^h-
' to the deep dis-
ivis. a red-haired,
ware and shoe de-
;ed desk, keeping
ending when the
of the Dibhlevill-
nihim in person.
; in the village, is
m, with gray hair,
new drug store,
icy," as his framed
pale, pim]ily-faced
dways smelling at
US was rather in-
and its proprietor.

^x.

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

■-IIIIM IJM

ii£ IM 2.2

I.I

1- itt

|2.0

!.25

1.4

1.6

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

v>.

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

A
%

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHM/ICMH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut canadien de microreproductions historiques

The " Scratch C/uIk"

Peter Pillick, as a needless innovation. But the ladies,
yonn;4 and old, took his part. They liked to go to his
iiieelv kept stnre, to >i;ossip with him and each other, and
buy, or price, the little bottles of scent, or sweet-smelling
.soaj), or other such tritlcs, dis])layed so temptiui^ly in his
glass cases ; then he was so "gentlemanlike," and so well
informed in all the customs of the best society in Ho.ston
that he was the authority on all questions of cti(iuette or
good manners or good taste, for even Dibbleville had
some rudiments of these things, so it was no wonder they
admired him. Spite of his pimples, and his lank thin
bod V he was a dangerous rival of even the Adonis, \ed
Trimble. The rest of the village can be left to your \m-
agination. Now there was a movement afoot which
agitated Dibbleville society to its centre, and this is how
it came about. Ned Trimble, that nothing might be
wanting to c-omplete his perfections, played the flute, the
girls .said "divinely." Peter Pillick ])la\ed the fiddle
pretty well, he was first violin in the church choir. Bill
Davis was second violin in the choir, and old JelT, a
ponderous, good natured, Indddieaded giant, played
the bass 01; a system of his own. He stuck little white
pegs in the fingerboard to mark the places to put his
fingers and numbered the notes he had to play in this in-
genious fashion : C 2 meant IC on the C string ; G 3, C
on the G string and so on, up to A 3, l)ut no higher. He
never ventured beyond the first position. The Doctor's
daughter, the belle of the vdlage, i)layed the melodeon ; a
simple youth, the son of a farmer, Dick Jones by name,
played ' the accordeon ; last, but not least, Harry
Sanders, the son of a well-to-do farmer, i)layed the cornet.
A jovial merr\- fellow was Marry, a devoted admirer of
pretty Polly, who always seemed rather inclined to him,
in fact the whole village looked on it as a match, but
when gentlemanly Peter made his appearance and im-
mediatelv enrolled himself as chief of the brigade of
Polly's worshippers, the fickle Polly flattered at his pre-
ference, cooled t(jwards the faithful Harry. They liad
some words about it and Harry went off, much to Polly's
secret sorrow. But I ha\-e not yet told what was agi-
tating the village .so deeply. Peter had lofty notions

->«

The " Scratch Cluh.

about music, as hecamu one wlio li;ul livrd in Hoston, and
SL-(.'ing so nuK-h talent lyiui; idle, lie (.oneeived the idea
of fonuiui; atiorchestra, and cultivating the nn^ical taste
of l)il)l)leville. This it was tliat set the younti; people
agog, and made the old folks >h:ike their heads, and
wonder what "them boys and girls would be up to next."
Peter broached his idea on I'riday night after prayer meet-
ing. Tlie others entered warmly into it. A meeting was
called for the next evening, before choir practice, at
Peter's store, and the Dibbleville orchestra was organized.
A <lilTicult.v was encountered at the start that for a time
threatened to overwhelm tlie young orcliestra— this was,
Who should be conductor ? Peter, as the originator, and
the best nuisician, claimed this post as his by right. Hut
the others convinced him that his violin was the mainstay
of the orchestra, and that he couldn't play and ctmduct
both. They luckily hit on a happy compromise. Peter
was to be called leader and director of the orchestra, and
Solomon Graves, the leader of the choir, was to be con-
ductor under Peter's directions. This Solomon was a
lanky black-haired youth, with long cadaverous face, the
only'son of a worthy farmer coujile. IJis parents and him-
self thought he was a genius, l)Ut unfortunately, he had,
in spite of his genius, failed as a ]ireacher \Crabbc — {sollo
rv'fr) then he mit<^t have been stui)idj and as a school-
master, and was now living at home, doing nothing but
mooning vacantly round the fields. Among his other
accomplishments'he had picked uj) a little musical know-
ledge, enough to read at sight a psalm tune, and was thus
tpialified lo' act as choir master. The melodeon being
an awkward instrument to carry about, the good-naturc(.l
Doctor gave them permission to hold their rehearsals in
his parlor. Tuesday was decided on as the evening for
])ractice. Then the'ciuestion arose as to what nuisic they
should plav. Peter was in favor of attacking Mo/.art's
svmphonies at once, but reluctantly gave up the notion
on fniding that they could uot be obtained, arranged lor
an orchestra of the peculiar construction of theirs. Old
leff thought thev had better confine their attention to
"psalm toons."' He had marked all the bass in the
" Jioston Acad«iuiy's" collection, and he " warn't a goin'

11 I c "Scratch C/ii/r"

0.^

(1 in Boston, and
nccivfd the i<h;a
lliL- nri^ical lasU-
lie young people
:hcir heads, and
1 l)e uj) to next."
ifter prayer nieet-
A meeting was
lioir i)ractiee, at
ra was organized,
rl that for a time
lestra— this was,
e originator, and
is l)v right. Hut
^vas tile mainstay
ilay and conduet
nproniise. Peter
lie oreheslra, and
:, was to l)e con-
Solomou was a
laverous face, the

parents and him-
tunately, he had,
.r [Crabbe — (solto
;ind as a sehooh
)ing nothing hut
Among his other
lie nuisieal know-
Line, and was thus
L^ melodeon being

the good-natured
leir rehearsals in
\ the evening for
) what nuisie they
lacking Mo/.art's
.ve up the notion
ned, arranged for
>n of theirs. Old
their attention to
I the l)ass in the
,e " warn't a goin'

t fooi.uMvh.s limejnarknr .sympathvs, wotever thev
u..e. He was paedied l.y Peter promi'sing to mark a 1
us l.a.s,ses k.r hun, and so gave up the "p^alm too. ''idea
uttheelue ddheulty was not yet overeon.e ha is'
here eonhl they g.i nmsic that was so arran-'e tl ai
t.CN- eould ut.hx.e vA\ their forees .^ Thev w c " a n o
|lcspa,rn.g. when Peter wrote to a friend iu" Ho: ton k

f he eould help urn. This frien.l knew a nursieian who
a range<l p.eees for uunor theatres or an.ateur orehestras
He undertook to ft.rnish them with a ehoiee .selee En of
P"P>-. :tr an-s, 'arranged for flute, two violins, viol ..cell
cornel, melo.leo.,, an.l aecordeon, hv Ilerr H aS 1 '
composer d.reetor. ete.. etc., Hoston/' Tin ..'^ ^s

as lolous. T his m.aclune was m the key of 1) an.l had
two drones udueh_sonnded the tonic and ck>minant d loni

He srnvf/ 1 , w • , ^"^ ^•""^" 'i"f' dominant chords.

He gave it uhat tew single notes it could pjav in the kev
I c niusic happeiie, to he in, and when t! e harmo • le 1

onllleS;^''''"'"''^"'^'^''^^^^^''^-^''-^'--^"---

tnin^'''■M' '^'"'■^'\=^>' ^'Veiling arrived, and punctual to tlu'
tnin ite he members took their places. Poilv loss , ,
er head ami put on her most unconcenu.l look,'lo hi e
er pleasure at seeing M.arry again. Dick Jones vho ,s
le er in a parlor before, blnshed and shunied. a i fl:'
hat he had more legs and arms than he ever suspecte<
Peter, important, bustled about, placing his forces ail
g.VMiig imperious d reetions, which' were^choed 3 Sol .
noil who was in all his glory, arnned with a stout sat
\n^^ lor a baton. To it ihey went, with zeal an l^er^
lessl "los '"i^'^^ vigorously, and gazing vacant and 1 ,^e:
mce Th f 1 "?"'■"'• ^'■-'■"'- t" ''^^^^'1 '-^'1 tl'^' Pni-ls at
»-. liie inelodeon and the striuirs >r„t on nntiv u-..ll
being old practitioners. The fli^e blew p, die 1 :
two or three random notes at intervals, ahv 1 s Cp ur
•short with a knowing look as if he was ui) to Ins mn a d
Knew what he was about. The cornet g.ave it iVat .mi
alter a single blasi, an.l looked at PoIIv, iin il lie\ a tz
was done, when with a start he remeinbe;e,VwLre lie wa
and blew the last two notes as a solo. Hut the ui.luck;

1 1

i^t

riw " ScraUlt Clubr

accordcon wa. the ^f^^^^^.^ ^T^

contusion he kc])! .^"''"'"f ." "J^i'^^ ..nv Whc.i ihcy
places to the 'l^'^':''"\-'\ •:' ^.'r tS^ row. mul U^^^^^ all

ended, Solomon ^^ \P^-^^;'^1 \''l " ^.d for a first attempt,
said to each other tnat >t^vas "oW^J^^;^^ t r ^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^_

They were all ,n earnest ^^^^ / ^'^^."'^,.,,u .,,- pieces very
they manaued to learn all ^1^^^^ ^y^^ ^j- ^,,,. ^^eVordeon to
well, barring the unkM-tn u^te ul Ua>^ ^c, ^^^^_^ ^^

come in ""^■^P^'^^".^'^> '' 'Vthc countrv round to hear the
f.reat was the curiosity "f^'^;; /; " j^.,, tnuilly agreed to
..chestra. 'U gratuity i^^cjr uuK ^^^ ^, ,^
give a concert, the piocLLO. s religious object,

Tor the Sunday ^'^^'l^'''"^, ^J^, ^-^ ' co^Ksent-.d to let them
the deacons, '^Itej- some leMtatumc) ^^.^^i^^.i ae-

have the use ol the ,^l"^/,^^\ . ^; '^, '^J classical music to
sirous that th^ shmrW P£^-\,,, decided on the
elevate the taste ot ^hc ^ U' J, • • ^^.,^^ arranged

Andante of the ^^^'P"^^, ^^^ "\^?E^^^^^ and they went

lorthembythet.dcM.te Icr Bla.a^^^ ^g ^^^^ symphony,

lo work. Peter told tl^<^» ^^^ J^or^ . . airectious,

and insisted especia Uy on he "^ -^ ' „ ,,^. i,,,i„^ any

that they should no spm Oic ^^^ uim>rtunately,

body into the secret. ^';7, .\ ', j.^ ^rept into the or-
that\ spirit of nisubordu ton hu^^ ^^^^ ^^^^

chestra. PoUy thought ^ha JUc K ^^^ Trimble

plav were very stupid ^j"^ "/ \^\4''^, .'^h of the melody.

bought that the flute ^^i*^! ^ me e i g ^^ ^^

Dick was i-'i^-V' t^r^tou^ -ui^ 'dominant of 1), All
bim about his uulortunaLonKai ^^ superiorit> .

^vere more or less '''.r^.f.vas produced ; in liis desire
Am.ther element of discord u as inu ^^^^^^^ .^^^^^

U, give effect to the , surpn- .^^^ ^^^^^^^e Liare drum,
serviceyoungjeff. Nvbowasan 1 ,^^^^^^^^^ ^,,a h^s

and Johnny Smiles, who, armed ^^. ^^^.^^^^ ^^.,^^

niotber's old sheet-iron tea tni3.1. out ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^

'::^n^ il^Sat l5;ey^^but!>ne bang in the whole
programme. tno-.^tlier to this effect, Harry,

The "Snatch Cliibr

"51

;ioii. Poor Dick
lK->t, '»ut in liis
iLS ill tli«^' wrong
y. Whun tlit-y
■o\v, :iiul ihey all
)r a first atlcinpt.
hard, ami finally
)ck of pieces very
r ihe aceurdeon to
■ dominant ot IK
omul to hear the
V hnally agreed to
purchase of liDoks
religious object,
ented" to let them
s particularly de-
■lassical music to
il decided on the
rhis \vas arranged
.Ig, and they went
of' the symphony,
', in his directitms,
,e" bv letting any-
ied, linib'-tunately,
crept into the or-
jhords she had to
etty. Ned Trimble
ugh of the melody.
; 'always girding at
ominant ol D. All
airs of superiority,
duced ; in his desire
-r had pressed into
at the snare druiu,
;i hammer and h\s
it a yard wide, was
huny felt that they
,ie bang in the whole

to this effect, Harry,
le desire to annoy his

rival in Pully's affccliou. eoncxived a deei) plot, wiiich \w
coiniminii-atLMl to llif m.ilcoiitents, wlio jikdgfd llitiii
selves to lollow his directions, h] veil old JelT \va-, heard
111 growl that, "He didn't see nothin' so niightv sur-
l>risin' in .Mr. Iladen's .\udant." At last the night of
llie (oncert came. The larmers with their wi\es and
daughters came from all the country round, iu such num-
bers that tlie long shed beliind the cluirch, would si-arcely
accommodate tiie crowd (jf buggies, wagons, and inick-
hoanls, that sought its shelter. The' church was .so
crowded, that the Parson felt a twinge, comixiunded of re-
gret for the "worldliness" of liis ])eoi)le and a slight
feeling of jealou.sy. The people all .sat with solemn faces
as befitted the " meetin' house" or talked iu inaudible
whispers, as peo])le ilo in church. When the hour fi)r
beginning arrived, ami the orchestra was in its place.
Parson Alhoi)e walked to tiie front of the platform to say
a "few words," in the course of which he referred to
" prasin' the I.ord with instruments of ten string.s " and
to " David's harj) of solemn sound," also to the" natural
desire of youth for something amusin'," hinting that a
meeting for prayer with " singiu' and makiii' melody iu
their hearts " would be far belter, and altogether .speak-
ing as ministers d(j about thing.sthey don't (juite like, be-
cause they are not at the head and trout of them, and have
to take a back .seat. [/M Coodiiiaii—A libel— I will .say
something about that when you finish.] He closed his
few words by " ofTerin' up" a prayer for the Sabbath
.School, the Church, the State, the country, the "Presi-
dent and Congress then assembled," the whole world,
and the heathen, and at last sat down, to the evident re-
lief of the as.seinbly, and the concert began. Solomon
was in a very nervous state. Peter had bullied what
little sense he had out of him, with multifarious directions
as to hisjiosition, his beating, and soon ; the con.sequence
was that he nearly up.set the fir.st piece, by saving, as was
his cu.stom with his singing class, "one, two, three,
sing" — however, they recovered themselves, and nothing
iiiarred the jx-rformance but the failure of Trimble to
" come in " soon enough with a solo passage ; he com-
menced a bar too late, but nothing daunted, kept on to

riie

Scnitr'i

Clubr

thf ftid Also, poor Dick's acconk-on would burst in with
the tonic and doniiiianl of D in the most r'lexpcclcd
places. With trifling exceptions of this nature all went
well, until the great piece of the evening, the last on the
prog'ranune, was reached, the " Andant of the vSurprise
Sympathy," as thev called it. Hxpectation was on lip-
toe to hear this. Rumors of its "surprisui' " nature
had been circulated everywhere. Rumors also of an un-
expected surprise were whispered among the knownigones.
There was a long pause, while I'eter buzzed about, swell-
ing with importance, giving orders to his forces. At last
they began, the flute, the two violins, and the violoncello,
as (lelicatelv as a cat in walnut-slKll shoes. Then, as
Solomon raised his .stick, his left hand, and himselt, on
his toes, to give emphasis to the " surprise,"'— before he
"came down "— Johniiv led off with a furious solo on
the tea tray ; Vovmg Jeff followed with a roll on thedruin ;
Dick's accordeon went off with its " hee haw, lice haw," in
the key of 1), and Ilarrv " blew a blast so long and loud,"
ending with several cavalry calls. vSolomon was par-
alyzed. Peter, aghast, swore under his breath. I'olly,
who was in the secret, laughed till the tears rolled down
her face. The audience, thinking it was all right, ap-
plauded vociferou.slv. The Widow Smiles beamed on her
neighbors, saving :'" Mv Johnny got in ahead of all on
'em with his sur])rise." At last the conspirators stop])ed,
out of breath, and the rest staggered on with the move-
ment, Old Jeff with a broad grin on his jolly face. ^ But
every now and then, at a signal from Harry, the "sur-
prise " came in again with a crash, always received by
the audience with rapturous applause, and by Peter with
a start and a look of anguish. At last it was over. Parson
Alhop'^ came forward, beaming- with smiles, and desired
to express his thanks, and the thanks of his brethren in
the congregation to the young people for the innocent, de-
lightful evening's entertainment they had provided.
Especially would he commend the performance of the last
selection, which was, he was told, a production of one of
Germany's greatest mtisical geniuses. Without presum-
ing to be critical, he would say that it exhibited, in a
marked degree, the combination of sweet music, with un-

The " Scmfc/i Clithr

lid l)iirst in wiUi
idsl i"iex])L'clcHl
iu\tiue all went
lla- last iin the
of the Snrprise
ion was on lip-
|)risin' " nalnre
-s also of an nn-
iicknowingonfS.
zed about, swell-
. foires. At last
I the violoncello,
hoes. Then, as
and himself, on
•ise," — before he
fnrions solo on
roll on thedrnm ;
aw, hee haw," in
1 long and loud,"
ilonion was par-
i breath. Polly,
.•ars rolkd down
as all right, a])-
les beamed on her
I ahead of all on
spiratorsstopi)ed,
I with the move-
jolly face. Bnt
larry, the "sur-
i-ays received by
ind by Peter with
; war, over. Parson
liles, and desired
)f his brethren in
■ the iiniocent, de-
y- had provided,
rmance of the last
idnction of one of
Without presnm-
it exhibited, in a
et music, with un-

pleasant noises, which he was assured was characteristic
of German nuisio. Then, after re(|uesting the congrega
tion to rise and sing the long-metre doxolo^jv, he ilis-
missed them with a blessing. As soon as his back was
turned, Peter, boiling with r.ige, ])itched into his recalci-
trant orchestra ; they sheltered themselves Ijehind Harry's
broad shoulders. He simply laughed at Peter's rage.
Peter would willingly have procec<led to extremities
Willi him. l)ut a whok'some fear of Harry's stalwart arms
dictated pnideiice. Hapi)eniiig to catch sight of the
laughing Polly, he turned to her as a safer object on
which to vent his wrath. iUit at his first word, he ol).served
a sudden clenching of Harry's fists, and a Hash in his
eye.liiat warned him that this was more dangerous ground
than the ollur, and with some imli.stinct allusions to
" barbarians" and "country l)umi)kiiis" he slunk away,
and Polly, quite out of conceit of him, .swallowed her
piide and ])eiiitently begged for Harry's forgiveness,
whuh he was willing enough to grant. Thus ended the
l)il)l)kville orchestra, why, the couiitrv i)eople never
could understand, and to this dav they' talk about the
" surprise " as the grandest thing ever heard.

No sooner had Cral)be ended than Dr. Goodman, who
seemed imi)atient for the opjwrtunity, began with some
warmth his protest against the libel, as he called it, that
Crabbe had perpetrated on his order.

Dr. (nmiman. I think that, as a class, ministers of all
denominations are quite as liberal, if not more so, to all in-
nocent amusements, as any other class in the community.

Crabbe. Perhaps so, Doctor, if we accept their defini-
tions of what is innocent, definitions that are sometimes
founded on distinctions that would puzzle a Philadelphia
lawyer to understand, for example, chess is innocent,
cards are wicked, croquet, well ; I believe that is not quite
determined yet. Why, is there anything more intrinsi-
cally wicked in playing any one game for amusement than
another ? I can easily b-lieve that a simple-minded

The " Scratch Clubr

country ministcT iiuj,^ht be in doubl as to llic iin-toccncf
or propriety of any anuiscnKiil not guided and dirccttd
by himstlf.

Hr. (loodman. ICvcu aibnilting that to l)c true— which
I do not— why do you include all ministers in your
sweeping assertion ?

Crahbr. Don't blanu- me for it. I only repeat the story
as I heard it from my friend. He, I can as>ure yon is a
man of keen oljservation, and must have seen something
in your profession to warrant his remarks.

Dr. ( loodman. That is a true proverl) abotit " birds of a
feather." I felt sure that was an interpolation of yotn-own.

Crabhc. Fie, Doctor! Are you going to turn satirical?

Dalton Tlie Doctor seems to forget that all minister,
are not gifled with his catholic charity, for all men and
all things. 1 dare say many of his brethren would lliink
he was guilty of a sinful waste of time, in coming here
once a week to listen to four fiddles. Isn't it so Doctor ''.

Dr. (ioodmau, (xclio /ia.< quite recovered Iiis cqtiiViiiiiity).
Ah, well ; perhaps so. I am afraid we are not all as lib-
eral as we might be to those wIkj differ from our notions
of right and wrong.

Crabhc. Then you forgi\e ni>- friend ?

Dr. Goodman. I don't care a i>in for you or your friend.
You may say an>tliing satirical you please. I know
that, a.s a rule, ministers are guided by con.science, and if
they make mistakes they are genendly on the right side.

Crabbc. What is a mistake on the right side? Can
mistakes be right ?

Dalton. Crabbe you are ouljr talking for the sake of
being disagreeable.

Parks. When Crabbe plays A, on the open string when
it should be on the D string, it is a mistake on the right
side, because it is more likely to be in tune.

() ll>C ilUiDI'L'IK'f

ed aufl (lirecti'd

l)c true — which
iiistcrs in your

rciieat the story
assure you is a
seen souiethin;;

)Otit " l)ir(ls of a
ion of your own.
(I turn satirical ?
at all minister,
for all men and
ren would think
in coming here
I't it so Doctor ?
/lis ('(fiiaiiiiin'ly).
re not all as lib-
"roui our notions

Li or your friend.
dease. I know
jnscience, and if
n the right side,
ight side ? Can

for the sake of

ipen string when
ke on the riglit
me.

7hc " Srra/f/t Clithr

'>'.>

Oal'hr. Oh, I understand it now, that's the reason you
soniclinics Ilmvc out three or tour hars, of course it is a
mi>take in one sense, hut llicn \ our stopping is always a
move in the right direction.

Da/Ion. You had lielter go home : you are getting dull ;
1 never heard such elaborate attempts at sarcasm.

FOURTKKXTH KVKXING.

An Allad; on Tnilli rate MiisicianSy and a
Rhapsody on (irn/'ns hy C yahhc.

/7R.\nnK and Dalton were in a savage mood this
\p evening and made fierce onslaughts on the whole
race of tenth rate musicians, who sujiply the market with
"arrangements," variations, and so forth. The vials of
their wrath were drawn on the devoted heads of these
poor ])eople l)y an unfortunate remark of Doctor Good-
man's, to the elTect that the numerous and ever increas-
ing ho.st of writers of music was an indication that the
talent or ability to write pleasing music was more wide-
spread in our day than ever.

Crabbe. Composers are of three kinds; the fools who
rush in, the angels who fear to tread, and the serene
dwellers on Olympus.

Dallon. Severe, sententious, but true in the main.

100

The •• Scrahli CIuIk"

llu-:ii. I hopL' lliciL-art! Ill) iDiiiposcrsamoii)^ us, Icon
fess to several uiipiiljlislicd allcmpts.

Crahhf. Your iiKKksly saves you from the first class.

Dr. (ioodinan. And I liope, ^;ocs with ability eiiou^^li
to entitle you to enter the second tia>>, at least.

CraMe. Prettily said, Doctor ; hut, rciiKiuljer, Ila/.el,
happy is the man who discovers in secret that he is not a
genius, and needs not to have the fact brayed in his ears
by the niaiiy-tliroated jniblic.

Parks. I tliink it is \crv unfair to lie so haul on
])e<i])k' becatise they write a little, and lind some peopk'
to admire their coni])ositions.

Cr.ibhe. Compositions ! !

Par/cs. All the world can't be expected to like grand
coni])ositions, ami I think the\' have a ri,uht to have the
kind ot" music ihcy like.

Hazel Parks has evidently l)ecn a sinner. I wondci
which of Crabbe's classes he ranks himselfin.

Crahbc. Oh, somewhere between the ruNliers and the
fearers, probaldy disowned of both.

Dalton. You are too hard on him. Parks has cer-
tainly a vein of melody, he has never ventured beyond
simple ballads and soui^s, but a daisy is as perfect in its
way as an o.ik ; a .song then, as perfect a work of art as a
symphony.

Crabhc. {stop! Dalton, Parks will hereafter be — daisy
like — irrepressible.

Parks. Crabbe thinks that "because he is virtuous "
nobody should have "cakes and ale."

Crabbe. No ; cakes and ale are very good in their way,
but I ])refer nectar and ambrosia.

Parks. He wishes to be thought of kiu to those
" serene dwellers on Olympus" he spoke of just now.

Dallon. As usual, we begin by legitimate discu.ssion,

;uii()ii}; us, I cDii-

1 tlif first class.
1 ability cuoukIi
t Ica-l.

iiiciuhir, Hazel,
t that lie is not a
aycil in his ears

lie so liavd oil
11(1 some people

?d to like grand
>;ht to have the

iiur. I wonder
iselfin.
nisJK'rs and the

Parks has cer-

iXMitured I)eyoii<l

is perfect in its

work of art as a

reafter be — daisy

he is virtuous "

Md in their way,

r)f kin to those
of just now.
uale discussion,

The " Snvtrfi Cliihr

loi

and end in persoualities. This is the Rouie to which all
our roads lead.

Oabhc. It i> not niv fault, I set out with an earnest
jnirpose to <liscus> the tenth rate scribblers, when you in-
lerrupted nie.

Dr. Goodman. (Icntleiiieii, do k-t Craobc have his .sav
I am anxious to hear why he con-iemns these poor pec.plc
so .severel\ .

Crahbr. I will make some allowance for ballad and
song writers, the 'vein of melody" with which D.dlon
•and I, a l.so,) credited Parks often exists where there is
neither knowledKc imr cai.rJ.ility to a.ba.ice to anvtliiii«
UKher. I will spare, also, the writers of dance music •
bad as most o| u is, it is ,|uite ;4oo,l enough for the pur-
pose aiKl the people it is wriiten for ; but oh ! these writer.s
of "tantaMes," '• reveries," "nocturnes." and the rest
«'l the hddle-taddle of weak melodv supported bv two
chords. Strange are the nianifest.itions of luimaii vanity
and incapability ! No sooner has a tyn, learned the tonic
and dominaul chords, but he slraightwav inllictsa patient
public by "compo.sing" reveries or nocturnes, or .some
such drivel.

If<nrl. I can bear witness, when I find a pti])!! with
more aptness than the general for harmonv, I a.ii often
amazed to find how soon they know more than 1 do. If
I .suggest that certain progressions might be better they
coolly insist that they prefer them as they are.

Crabhc. Ay. They find that the rules that guided
the great compo.sers are but arbitrary trannnels on their
genius.

Dalhm. Yes ; but these scribblers Crabbe has denounced
are as angels of light in comparison with the "arrangers "
the variation grinders, the " lianscriptionists " whocouiit
up their " -u'orks" to opus lo,™©.

lo:

The " Scratch Club.

Oabbc. They are soinclhiiig like, but not as good as,
the playwrights who "adapt " novels to the ;^tage.

Parks. Won't you except such writers as Lis/.t and

Thalberg^ , • , i i

Crabbc. No. As composers, they must be judged Dy
their original work ; not l)y their musical connnentaries
on other men's ideas.

Dallon. I have a particular enmity for those men who
take a well-known classical piano composition and tor-
ment it into some almost impossible display of their own
finger dexterity, as Tausig did with that perfect work,
the "Invitation to the Dance," or as another— I won't
mention his name, as he is still living,-did with a waltz
of Chopin's.

Crabbe. The greatest atrocity of this kind I have as yet
heard of is that some piano prestidig'tator has improved
Weber's rondo, "Mobile Perpetuum," by changing the
parts from one hand to the other ! And yet these are the
thnigs a discriminating pulilic applauds.

Daltcn,. Nor must\\e forget to include in our denuncia-
tion the writers of pieces " for the left hand alone."
Crabbc. With all my heart.

Hazel. Art is at its lowest when it seeks applause for
mere technical excellence, or astounding tours de force.

Crabbc. Ay. Hazel is the man to say a thing that
everybody knows in a concise, picturesque, even poetic

way. ' .

Hazel. I thought you had forgotten it, as you are was=t-
ing your heavy artillery on mere sparrows.

Dallon. Don't you think there are symptoms of a re-
action from the pyrotechnic school? I think it has, in
fact, reached its limit. There are no more surprises left
for virtuositv ; people are getting tired of its already stale
achievements ; and the great lights of muMc are be-

t not as good as,

the stage.

tc'is as Liszt and

list be judged by
ieal conimentaries

ir those men who
npositioii and tor-
spla}- of their own
that perfect work,
, another — I won't
— did with a waltz

kind I have as yet
.ator has improved
' by changing the
id yet these are the
Is.

de in onr dennncia-
hand alone."

t seeks applause for
ng tours de force,
o say a thing that
resque, even poetic

> it, as you are wast-
rows.

: symptoms of a re-
I think it has, in
J more surprises left
d of its already stale
s of mu>ic are be-

T/h- " Siinh/i Clubr

lo:

nir :^:^ !:r^" ^^^^^"-^ ^'^--^-^ th^ py-.ch.

na-.tl. Yes. I suppose there are more people study
au^. ll<., 'iu. .sonatas u, iieethoven .„.. \ull"'^Z.
Mendel.ssoiui .s " Lieder oluie worte " tlian ever

Dalton. Truly, these composers are " crucified all day
long, on grand, square, and upright pianos

Lrabl.c Just think of it ! There is not an hour in the
twenly-lonr when the "Sonata Pathetique - is not being
played son.ewhere. As the sun rises, say at Hong Kong'
the daughters of the Knglish residents begin their daiK-
practice. As the sun moves westward, the pianos in
Australia awake. Still further, and the " Sonata Pathe-
j.qi.e" begins in Russia. Then Germany, France, and
Kn.gland take up the wondrous tale." Still westward
and a thousand pianos in our haj.py land begin to twan-
with It, from New Ivngland to tlie Pacific. Talk of mJ"^
tona's ceaseless drum-beat ! It is nothing to it They
say that in ever>- second of time some soul enters or quits
ih.s vain .show we call " life." This seems a wonderful
lung ; but It IS a trifie wlien you consider that all nature
has conspired to bring it about. But when von think
that one weak man has thought a thought, or' written a
pure of music, that for years has never cea.sed to sound
fnm, an ever.swelling number of pianos all round the
world-I tell you that is something to wonder at While
we sit here talking, how many players are just l.cginnine
or are in tne middle of, or have just finished it! How
many poor girls have shed, or are shedding, tears over its
diflicultics! How many " profes.sors ' ' are daily and
hourly moved to inward, it may be. 1)ut not the less
wicked, profanity over the bungling attempts of dull
pnpi s to master it. Genius is an awful responsibilitv
Beetho^•en s gonius is directly responsible lor this ocean

104

The " Sauitr/i Club"

of unuttered profanity. I wouldn't like to think at my
last hour that I had written anything that would vex the
ears of Heaven for years after I was dead.

Paries Mnkc " •■-■ v *'^'

.■H'. -•• :»L A-_NOur mind easy, mere is no danger.

Crabbc. Oh, poor little wit! Mow he jumped with
glistening eyes at the chance, and whipt out liis little
sling.

Dr. Goodiitait. I would like to know, Crabbc, how
much of that was earnest, how much fun? That is a
solemn truth, that "Genius is a great responsibility."
It is genius that rules the world in every department,
and it behooves its possessor to look well to it that he use
it aright.

Crabbc. It is possible to mis-employ talent, but not
genius. The man is master of his talents, 1)ut his genius
masters him, and drives him whither it Vi'ill, often against
his inclination.

Dal/nii. I tliink " repcctable mediocrity" l)ears wider
rule than genius. Genius is apt to be too erratic to rule
wisely.

Dr. Goodman. It may be that ' ' respectable mediocrity' '
does rule, but it is only as a deputy or vice. Every
possession we have in art, science, or governmrnt has
been won for us !)y genius. Tlie masses of mankind are
moved like puppets by the ideas of the gifteil few, and
are, like puppets, luiccnscious of the power that moves
them.

Crabbc. In other words, mediocrity, respectable and
otherwise, is the engine with cranks, pistons, and wheels,
all nicely adjusted, but dead •and still. Genius is the
steam that puts them in motion. I can carry my figure
still farther. The fire that gets up the steam is the
"environment" of the genius. Tlie hou.sc rent, taxes,
butcher's bill, or what not, that drives him to work — for

The " Scratch Club:

e to think at my

at would vex the

(1.

: IS no danger.

he jumped with

ipt out liis little

•w, Crahbe, how
fun? That is a
t responsibility."
very dei>artment,
1 to it that he use

y talent, but not
its, but his i^enius
will, often against

ity " l)ears wider
too erratic to rule

stable mediocrity' '
or vice. Kvery
■ goveriinimt has
.'S of mankind are
le gifteil few, and
power that moves

I OS

your true genius is generally lazy-this is what I meant
a while ago, when I said genius drove its possessor a-ainst
his inclination. '"^

Ila~i-I. "It is ever thus." No sooner docs the talk
take a .serious turn than Cral.be, like Satan in Paradise
tries to spoil it.

Parks. Did he tempt you with a Crabbe apple ?

Crabbc. Parks, the only excuse for a j.un is, that it be
a propos. Kschew that frame of mind that betrays the
•small w.t : that is, a spider-like lying.in-w^ait to .seize
every poor fly. in the .shape of a small joke, that ofTers
Itself.

. Parks. You crush me with your Jolinsonian manner
Are you the only one of us that is entitled to be funny?

Lrahhc. He would be funny ! Mi.sguided vouth, that
IS the ambilion of an "end man," of a "circus clown "
Wit and humor are never funny. Fun is the diversion of
the low, the vulgar, the ignorant.

Parks. You needn't pitcli in like that. I only used the
word collo(iuial!y ; every one does.

Crabbc. Enough. I forgive you this once.

Ha-jcL You'd better come with me now, Crabbe, and
walk off your fit of virtuous indignation.

Parks. Yes ; take a fun ambulation.

Crabbc {ct omncs). Qh.^h.iiXxox.

, respectable and
stons, and wheels,
11. Genius is the
\\\ carry my figure
the steam is the
house rent, taxes,
^ him to work — for

FIFTEl'NTH I<VKNINO.
Parks .Islonis/ics I lie Club uu'l/t a Satiriial

CVER since our "Scratch" has been holding its
weekly mec'tini;s, Parks has been breatliing vague
threateiiings ofim intention to " get even " with the other
niemlx rs, by way of revenge, for the many direct and in-
direct siiul)S and flings of one kind and another that they
have put ujion him. They had so often twitted him with
his unfulilUed threat, and he hadsooften said " wait and
you will see" that they began to fear that the winter
would pass away without bringing on them his promised
castigation.

They were therefore quite taken by surprise this even-
ing, when he made his appearance with a small roll of
manuscript, neatly tied with a pink ribbon. So great
was their curiosity, they could hardly wait until the
" Scratch " was over to hear its contents. All through
the playing, Parks wore a smile of conscious triumph, as
much as to say, "Won't I astonish these fellows!" At
last the wished-for moment came, the club settled itself
to listen, and Parks, after some feigning of reluctance,
cleared his throat and read as follows :

O, muse ! divitiest of the tuneful niue,

The first soprano in the choir divine,

That under leadership of great Apollo

Beat all the choruses of mortals hollow.

Aid me, Polymuia, if that be thy name,

Or thou, Calliope, fan to ardent flame,
( 106 J

NO.

'/ a Satirical

jcn holding its
breathing vague
' ' with the other
iiy direct and in-
iiother that they
twitted him witli
said " wait and
that the winter
em his promised

rprise this even-
a small roll of
l)bon. So great
' wait until the
ts. All through
ious triumph, as
;e fellows!" At
ub settled itself
ug of reluctance,

The ''Scratch CliiL"

The glowiiif? tho'ts iiiiiirisoiicd in mv lireast

Thai struggle fierce, as they would rend my vest.

Fain would I sing— but not of love or arms,

Of deeds of heroes, or of heauty's charms.

Far other task :ny untried pen would jnove.

Might it but get in th' unaccustomed groove.

Tile glories of the "Scratch " would be my theme,

A nobler far than aught of these I deem.

Then help me, tnuse, with nyntax, words and rhyme,

Nor tax with sin my rash attempt to climb.

Who that hath heard hath ever failed to mark

The look of high resolve, fixed firm and dark,

That rests upon each face, when bow in hand.

First fiddle raps upon his music stand.

And, while with anxious glance he cons his score,

The signal gives— one, two, three, four.

Then from the quivering strings what sounds arise

As each-his heart aflame— with vigor plies

The grating horsehair o'er the catgut taut

And wakes the spirit of the defunct cat

That parted loth with all her nine-fold life

And gave her entrails to the cruel knife,

And wist not that her mews would live agaiu

To serve the muse of music loving men.

A Brisk Allegro first their mettle trie.s,

Whose fugue-like theme forever faster flies.

First fiddle boldly dashes at the strain

And strains each nerve the tempo to maintain.

His courage Aiils not, tho' his lingers tr.'p.

When he a sixth position high would grip.

He "scamps" the phrase, how, each muMcian knows

And comes in solid on the final close.

Now to the "ba.ss" the wandering theme descends

And to th' attack, the 'Cello anxious bends,

Two notes iu tune he strikes upon the oi)en strings,

Then to the wind both time and tune he flings,

As springing at a passage with his thumb,

He draws a wail that strikes his hearers duml>.

And makes them even wish that they were deaf

As lie mistakes a tenor for a treble clef,

107

' !

io8

The "Scratch Cliib."

Aiioii, with tune recovered on harmonic A,

By easy stages, down he v.orks his way

I'ntil lie f,'ains the port where he would be

In safety landed on the open C.

lUit oh ! what mortal pen can e'er aspire,

I'ntauKht, unaided hy celestial fire,

To paint the consternation deep that jjrows

And in each luckless hearer's bosom glows,

When, with a^mile inquisitors might wear,

Viola takes his turn to torment th' air.

With gestures wilil, and elbow, shoulder high,

Willi siiffeiifd wrist, resolved to do or die.

His bow-arm plunges madly to and fro.

His right hand knows not what his left would do.

With lofty scorn expression marks he slights.

Thinks "time was made for slaves " and so delights

!,:'.;^ .,;.!"<(! professors of the manly art

To knuckle " out of time " his suffering part.

Anon, encountering with double stops

lie coolly from the maimed passage lops,

One of the twain and leaves the empty chord

To mourn the absence of its major third.

Confusion worse confounded follows fast

As each one str'.yesto be, at leas', not last,

A closing organ point of sixteen bars

Makes 'Cello, thankful, bless his lucky stars

That— let the others wrangle as they may.

He sure was right, no matter what they say.

First fiddle beats the time with anxious face,

Viola beats him in the flying race;

All beat Beethoven out of form and shape

And force the spirit of his muse t' escape.

But list 1 how second fiddle bears his part

In this attempt to storm the temple of art.

With dainty steps he foots his dubious way

Unhindered by these erring sons of clay.

His modest merit courts not sounding praise,

Rut like the violet, hides from public gaze.

His be the meed— altho' 'tis all unsought.

That in the "Scratch ' he is the one bright spot.

cA.
I be

re.

rows

lows,
ear,

er hip;h,
(lie,

ft would do,
slights,

tid so deligUU
rt
ig part.

>ps,
r chord

Td.
ISt

last,

;y stars
may,
ey say.
us face,

lape
ape.
art
fart.
IS way

ay.

; praise,
gaze,
uglit,
bright spot.

The " Si-nitch Cliih'' iq,^

These are thy glories, the.se the joys, () " Scratch,"
From thy pursuit with fearful joy we snatch.
Hut my tired pen, unecjual to tlie strain.
Must leave unsung the pleasures tiiat remain;
The' greater e'en than the.se my lines disclose.
For inspiration's stream no longer (hnvs.

Forgive, O muse ! these uncouth words and rough,

Nor hlanie a mortal tliat he found it tough

To frame in fitting lines and sounding rhyme

A theme so vast, transcendant, and sublime.

My powers are weak and jmor, and well you know it.

So choose another time, another poet,

Cmbbc. The last two lines are remarkal)le for heiiij;
the only ones with any .sense in the whole riL,Mnaroie.

Hazel. Its a scandalous lil)el. He's oflener wrong than
any of tis.

Dalian. You liave overshot tlie mark. Your estimate
of jourself isthe only piece of unexaggerated satire in it.

Ha=el. He "the only hriglit .spot "—we niiglit all ex-
claim with Lady Macbeth— •• out, da.nned spot."

Crabbe. How anyone can be a ".spot" in a, scratch, I
don't know, unless he's a spot to be scratched, like a flea-
bite.

Dalian. Oh, he's not the first scribbler that the e.xigen-
cies of rhyme have compelled to talk nonsense.

Parks. Pitch in. gentlemen; the more you <.V\ the
surer I feel that I have hit you.

Dalian. Ifa man flings a .spadeful of mud into a crowd
It IS no merit to him that he hits .some one.

Dr. Goodman, {anxiotts la cliani:;e Ihe subjeet and realore
harmony.) How does it happen, Dalton, that we have
never had a lecture or essay, or even a story from you ?

Dallon. Ifever you should, I p.omise it will be more
uiiproving than some of the coutributious we have had to
listen to.

}■•

I lO

The "Smitcli Club:'

Ifa-il. Yes, ami dry as vSaliara.

Parks. Lcctiircs I \Vf have ha.l nolhiiiK else from liim
as long as I can remcmhur, and who can imagiMc Dalluu

lellim; a story.

Dniton. Just sec! what insniTerahlc airs he puts on, as
if he had done a wonderfnl thing in writing that silly

trash.

Oabhf. Can yon wonder? Remember, Parks is the
only one ol" us who, like Silas Wegg. has " dropt into

poctrv."

//a:<l. " Dropt tlito poetry," indeed ! Floundered into

doggerel.

Dr. Coodman. Oh, dear, T fear \ou have soured all the
milk of human kindness in our friends with your unlucky
pa.s(iuinade. Why is it that men who play fiddles are so
touchy about remarks as U) the way they do it?

Crabbr. " I.et the galled jade wince, my withers arc
unwrung." Dallon, we demand a something from you
at our next meeting. We care not if you exceed the
satiric brilliancy of Parks.

Dallon. Agreed ; and it won't be a lecture.

Dr, Goo,iiuan. For one, I feel sure it will be interesting
whatever form it takes.

Ha~cl. i*- is no uncommon thing for people to display
liowers they were never suspected of possessing. Dalton
may tell a better story than an\- of us.

Crabbr. Are we going to wind up with a love feast ?
" Claw me and I'll claw thee."

/);-. (nwhiian. Hush ! Don't try to spoil everything.

Dal toil. I have a very curious manuscript in my posses-
sion, a sort of autobiographical sketch. I will read it at
one of our meetings. I am sure it will interest you.

ill}; e'.sf from liiiu
iuiagiMc Dallou

lirslie puts on, as
vritiiiK that silly

)cr, Parks is the
has " flropt into

I'loundered into

avc soured all the
vith your unlucky
[)lay fiddles are so
;y do it?

•, my withers are
iiethinj? from you
f you exceed the

.'cture.

will be interesting

• people to display
ossessing. Dalton

vith a love feast?

spoil everything,
script in my posses-
. I will read it ot
1 interest you.

vSIXTEENTH KVENINO.

Mr. Dullycr and Parks' Friend, Fred, Air their

V^icws.

CWO strangers were present at the meeting this eve-
ning. Mr. ]Uillycr, vulgar, and rich through
transactions in wheat and pork, had a very high opinion
of his taste in all matters connected with art, esjx-ci-
ally with music. This opinion was not hampered by
the least tincture of knowledge. He had just returned
from his first trip to ICurope, and was convinced that he
was thereby (pialified to speak with un(iuestionable
authority on all points connected with music. He there-
fore "laid down the law" with that exasperating .self-
satisfied arrogance that so often accompanies the total
lack of knowledge. He gained admittance by forcing
himself on Hazel, to his intense- disgust. Mr. RullycT
occasionally condescends to patronize the church " 'licli
Hazel is the organist. He invited himself into t. hoir
for the express purpose of teaching Hazel how to play the
organ.

Parks brought a friend with him, a j-outh with a poetic
eye and long hair. We failed to catch his name when
Parks introduced him, l)ut were satisfied with the hws.
This youth was of the intensely testhetic school. His ideal
of the musician was drawn from "Charles Auchester."
He, too, was totally ignorant of music, but made up for

( HI )

112

Tlif " Scratch Clu/>."

it by his familiarity with the cant of the "Auchester"
school of (hivelkis.

TliL-se two gentlemen famished excellent entertainment
to the club, who were alternately amused and exasperated
with them. The last piece played was the C minor (piar-
tette of Heethoven Hardly had they finished than the
gnsliinj; youth spake as follows :

Youth. What an intensityofspiritnal yearning after the
infinite is there in Ik-ethoveii ! vSodillerent from the calm
empyrean atmosphere of Mozart, who exhibits a soul that
has ol)tained the mastery over the (inestionings that vex
connnon men, and has reached the serene, self-poised calm
of a lofty spirit that has overcome the baser things of
life. Heethoven is like a strong, imprisoned spirit strug-
gling towards the light, lonely and sad. his mighty
pinions ever and anon beaten down by storms of passion,
yet ever remounting with dauntless courage to soar
towards the heaven he sees beckoning him npward, ever
upward.

Crabhe. What a pity it seems that great men do not out-
live their commentators. It would be .so pleasant for them
to know what their motives were for what they did and
how they did it. We owe a debt of gratitude to the com-
mentators. It is so pleasant to know that great works
were produced as the result of ".soul conflicts" of
•'strivings after the unattainable," and so on, never from
.such sordid considerations as tht desire of profit, or the
love of fame, or the jealousy of rivals.

Youth. vShame ! Would you destroy the noblest aspira-
tion of our nature, bring down the lofty struggles of
genius to the level of vulgar trade or equally vulgar love
of fame? Oh, no! Genius works in a world apart, is
untouched by the base passions of this earth.

Crabbc. Yes, Raphael and Angelo were bosom friends.

e "Auchestcr"

t entertainmotit
xtul exasperated

L' C minor iniar-
lished than the

:arnin^ after the
It from the oahn
ibils a soul that
juiiigs that vex
self- poised calm
)aser thiiij^s of
led spirit slnig-
:id. his mighty
)nns of passion,
3iirage to soar
lu upward, ever

; men do not out-
)leasant for them
at they did and
tude to the corn-
hat great works
1 conflicts" of

on, never from
of profit, or the

le noblest aspira-
ifty struggles of
lally vulgar love

1 world apart, is
irth.

re bosom friends,

Thv"Saatih CIiiIk"

".^

Hamlel and Ihiononcini, Cluck aii.I Piccini, Mozart and
Saheri. JJeelhovei. and llay.iii. I n^cd not extend the
list.

Afr liiillycr (uho sat /isln,in,r to this convenation uilh
wnii;/,:t n>//>c>t.;>/,r ,n„t aiiia :rnin,t, now brokr out ) What's
the u.eof ail that big talk ; sounds like two imospapers
p.tchm- into each other. I've been wailing a chance t..
give you my opinion on .several things. Its no use talk-
ing about music nnl^.ss you ve been to Ivurope as I have
and heanl all tin; best things going there. If von want
to hear what real music .sounds like, just von go t..
\ leiin.-i and hear " Strosses orchcster " plav. I tell yon
them fellows know how to do it. Don't talk to me of
y.)ur ].okey -luartettes, four fellows scraping awav without
any toon. I've been nearly a.sleep all evening. ' (live me
something lively. I heard a polka in Paris.-every now
and then, pop, went a champagne cork as natural as life
I went everywhere and heard everything. I can tell the
minute I hear a thing whether it's good. A fellow witli
a good ear .lon't need to know anything about mu.sic to
tell that.

O-abbc You're right. Sufficiency of car supplies the
lack ol knowledge in iiiore things than music

Bullyn: Of course it does. I knew you'd agree with
me. It you fellows would take my advice, you'd get
•some of tho.se arrangements of good " toons " tliev pi ,v
over there. Von could get lots of people to come and
hear you without their getting sleep\ neither. I tell you
what, Hazel, you must get some of them thiiig.s and pl-,v
them on the organ. I like to hear something that'll make
the people go marching out of church, 'liven them up a
bit after the sermon.

Cmbtw. An antidote, as it were, to the .serious part of
the service.

114

The " ScraUli Club."

liuUvcr. Just so. Tlic-m preachers get a talking about
dying atul all sorts of IhiiiKS that n\akca Rllow foci bha-,
jiu" a li^ht lively picrc on the organ after makes 'eiu feci
all right again, you know.

Dr. iioodnian. But, my dear sir, do you think it is well
to try t(» efface auy serious impression that may have been
produeed ?

liiilhrr. You're a preacher, and, of course, you'll take
their part. iCverythiiig that's pleasant is wrong.

[/;.-. (iooihnaii /><ircir/i/,ir the kimi of a man hf luis io ileal
uitli, tcilk a s/i;li,/o>/>cars to ans'urr]

OvMr. Good, lUdlyer. I do like a gt)od argument
You have shut up the doctor. That's a good idea— to
make the organi.st a counterpoise to the preacher. It
stiuuilates the preacher to more strenuous efforts, it re-
presses any tendency to vanity he may have; when,
thinking he has been more than usually impressive, he
remend)ers that the organist in five minutes can undo the
effect it took him an hour to produce.

J'arAs {aside). I never can make out what Crabbe is
driving at.

Jhdlyer Yes, sir ; you are one of the most sensible
men I ever met. Come and see me scmietime. I like
sensible men, even if they are musicians. Hang scientific
nui.sic, I -ay ; let ns have music jK'ople like, whether it is
in church or out. Hazel, my boy, if you'd take my
advice you'd get your jieople to get some A, i, singers in
your choir, and you'd arrange some of them things I've
been telling you of for anthems. I tell you wliat ! stock
in your church would soon go up. Just you think over
what I'm telling you. I'll come in your choir again soon
and give you soiue fresh ideas. I must bid you fellows
good-night now. [/i.i/7.]

Dalloii. Well, Doctor, can you wonder that church

t a talking about
, ffllow foel l)lm-,
r inakLS c'lu feci

u think it is well
at may have betu

:nirsc, you'll take

is wrong.

///(/;/ //(• /itis lo deal

good arguiniMit
s a good idea — to
the preacher. It
ons efforts, it re-
lay have ; when,
illy impressive, he
lules ean undo the

It what Crabbe is

the most sensible
sometime. I like
s. Hang scientific
: like, whether it is
if you'd take my
me A, I, singers in
f them things I've
11 you what ! stock
list you think over
lur choir again soon
ist bid you fellows

onder that church

'J/ii " Sifti/,// C/ud."

music has fallen t., s., I.nv a standard when such nun
have the power, which Ihev loo ofUn have, to dictate to
both minister and organist .''

/h. GooJmvi. 1 am afraid it is a svmptoni that some
things of more moment than tlie nuisie are at a low ebb
in the churches.

)■<'/////. The highest, truest expression of religi..n is the
love of the Heantiful. Art is the expression ju ..ntward
.symbols of tlR. iJnuuiful. Therefore, true worship d^.
man.ls that all that is worthiest in art should combitK- to
elevate and purify the .soul. Architecture, p.iinting
poetry, sculpture, nmsic-these make thv fitting temple.'
The soul IS subdued to its pn.pi, attitude oidv when
aloue, though surrounded by cn.wds, it kneels in some
dim, vast cathedral, adorned with the pure emanations
of the genius of architect, sculpt<.r, .and painter, and
h.stens with holy awe to the soicnui chant of n.bcd
chori.sters, while the m.ijeslic roll of the organ, in puls-
ing cadence, fills the vast space fnmi marble Hoor to lofty,
fretted roof with waves of sound that float the rapt soul
to heaven.

Dr. Goodman {aside h Oabhc). "And he took a little
child and set him in the midst of them, and said, ' K.xcept
ye be as this child ye cannot enter the kingdom of
heaven.' "

Crabhe. Ah, Doctor, how one .such saying punctures all
the va.st wind-bags blown l)y these worshii)persof the Ideal
or IJeautiful to rai.se men by balloon prjwer to heaven.
Hazel. What are you two whisi)ering togellicr i"
Crabbe. Oh, nothing ! The elevating and illuminating
power of gas.

J\uks. What has that to do with what hVed is saying?
Crabbe. His mention of dim c.-ithedrals suggested it.
Crabbe and the Doctor smiled together, to the others'
mystification, and the party broke nj).

SEVENTEENTH EVENING.

Dal ton Reads a Shaiiire Story

' TT CCORDING to promise,

Dalton said, " I will read
to you the manuscript of which I spoke at our last
meeting but one. It is, as you see, somewhat volumin-
ous ; but the writing is large and straggling, so it will
not take very long to read it. It l)ears this strange title :
'The Confession of a Lost Artist,' and is as follows :—

"Who reads this record of a lost, despairing soul, let
him take warning lest, if dowered with Heaven's best
gift, Genius, he despise it, and — proving unfaithful to the
sacred trust— sell, for gold or honors, his birthright.
This (lid I. Once I was hajipy. My life was bright with
lofty hopes and a pure ambition ; the aml^ition of an
arti.stwho loved his a. is his life thrilled through my
soul, nerving me to ever loftier efforts. But now, hope-
less, pri.soned, in chains, I sit alone, and wait in dull
patience and black despair, while these awful granite
walls that will soon close around me are built ever higher,
higher, and nearer, nearer, by invisible hands. Higher,
higher, closer, closer, the cold black stones, as though
alive and eager to crush out my life into nothingness, are
growing. Oh, that they would come quicker, that I
might find oblivion under their mountain masses ! I first
became conscious of existence in the quaint old city of
Nuremburg. A dreaming child, bereft of both parents,
and left to the care, or rather the neglect, of an aunt
already overburdened with a numerous family, my time
was spent in wandering through the (juiet old streets,
where the houses, growing closer as they rose, until they
(ii6)

The " Scratch Clubr

117

Stoy.

aid, " I will read
spoke at our last
newhat voluniin-
ggliiig, so it will
his strange title :
s as follows : —

spairing soul, let
li Heaven's best

unfaithful to the
, his birthright.
t was bright with
; anil^itiou of an
illed through my
But now, liope-
and wait in dull
•se awful granite
built ever higher,

hands. Higher,
tones, as though
) nothingness, are
; quicker, that I
n masses ! I first
[uaint old city of
; of both parents,
iglect, of an aunt
s family, my time
([uiet old streets,
;y rose, until they

nearly metoverliead, seemed to be wliispcring to each other
mysterious secrets ab.mt the dead an.l g.nie generations
that had lived in them. ICverv fantastic gable had its
own history l„r me. Tlie grinning mon.sters carved on
the church ])orches were my familiar friends. I i)eopled
the old buildings with a world of niv own, until dream-
and became my natural home, and" the real world was
barely tolerated as a hated necessity. No uionght was
taken for my education : but I contrived. Heaven knows
how, to learn to read, and found fresh fuel for mv dreams
111 the wend legends that clustered round everv tower and
tottering ruin in the old town. ' Thus passed mv life until
1 was about fifteen years old, when mv aunt, with a
.sudden access of religious zeal, determined that I must
be catechi.sed and confirmed according to the Lutheran
custom After many weary hours of stud\- and wearier
hours of questioning by the zealous young divine whose
dutyit was to prepare the children, I was pronounced
ready for this, to me, unmeaning rite. I lia<l never been
111 a church, and went thither, when the dav of confirma-
tion arrived, 111 comi)any with a large nu'mber of bovs
and girls who were about my own age, unwilliiiglv
enough, little knowing what awaited me. The churcii
where tins ceremony took place possessed one of the
most iamous organs in all Germanv, and an equally
famous organist. Like a sudden awakening from death
to life, or rather like the realization of my wildest
dreams, the p(«ver of music seized on me as the sul)-
hme harmonies now rose and rushed over me in billows
of sound, now gently and ever more softly, like music
of retreating angels, seemed to draw me after them up
to heaven. My destiny was fixed. I must be an or-
ganist. W ith a courage born of my strange exaltation
I Aveiit to the organist at the close of the service of
which I remember nothing, and with a child's direct-
ness said—' Teach me to play like you. ' The go.xl old
man smiled gently, patted mv head, and said with par-
donable vanity : ' I nn'glit teach you to plav, but to play
as I do— that IS another thing.' Then, ai)pareiitly ob-
serving, for the first time, my rapt, earnest look, he added
more seriously : •' My dear child, you look as if you had

; i

I i

Ii8

The " Scratch Club.'

seen an angel. What is the matter with yon? I tried to
tell him, stammered ont some iiieohereiit words, when my
overstrained nerves gave way, ami I l)nrst into a violent
lit of weeping. He tried to soothe me, and soon sne-
c-eeded hV ^lying that if .1 wonld come to him every
morning he wonld teacli me to play, as he telt snrc. lit
conld ii.ake something ont of me. That my progress
was rapid, I need not say. My kind old master soon
,rrcw proud of me, and wonld often say to acuninng
friends: ' Here is the lad to take my place when these
old fingers have lost their cunning.' My tame soon t)e-
gan to spread, and by the time I was twenty, I was
h)oked on as one of the most promising organists in Ger-
manv. I was now regularly engaged as assistant organ-
ist ' Mv dear old friend was often ailing and I then took
his place At last, full of years and hoiujrshe died, hless-
imr ine with his latest breath ; charging me earnestly to
be true to mv art, to reverence the gifts I possessed as
entrusted to me by Heaven, to be .sed for the glory of the
iriver I w is now formallv installed in his place, btil
mv fame grew. People came from distant cities and heard
me wonderinglv, prophesying that yctanotlrer was to lie
added to Germaiiv'slong roll of rulers in tlie realms ot
sound Thus, day by dav, my life unfolded, ever more
and more bright, when the blight fell. It was my cn.s-
tom to give, on two evenings of the week, a concert ot
orsran iiiusic. It chanced that I observed at one of these
concerts, -ah! how should I describe her !-a poem in
motion music become a visible presence. The l!,pipliaiiy
of the purest ideal-Anialia-0, Anialia ! Joy toucning
heaven, and woe deep as hell, are in that name for me.
The walls are closing— it is dark— dark I can go no tar-
ther The dull calm has returned, I must finish my

dreadful task. . . . vShe was the only daughter of the old
Count Oscar of Armerland. This proud but poor noble,
dwelt in a partlv ruined castle not far from the city. His
naturally hauglity temper was soured by ever increasing
poverU', but I thought not of him. Like that sudden
awakening of my sleeping soul when touched by the
maeic wand of music, on that memorable day long ago,
the vision of Amalia awoke my heart to the power of love ;

The " Scratch Clubr

119

you ?' I tried to
•ords, wliL-ii my

into a viok'iit
and soon snc-

to him every
he felt sure, lie
It my pros^ress
Id master soon
y to admiring
ice when these

fame soon be-

twenty, I was
-ganists in Ger-
lissistant orj;an-
iiid I then took
rslie died, hless-
ne earnestly to

I possessed, as

the j^lory of the
lis place. Still
cities and heard
Dtlier was to be
1 the realms of
ilded, ever more
It was my cus-
k, a concert of
[ at one of these
,cr ! — a poem in
The Epiphany
! Joy touching
it name for me.

I can go no f:ir-
I must finish my
ughter of the old

but poor noble,
(in the city. His
■ ever increasing
ike that sudden

touched by the
)le day long ago,
lie power of love ;

heiKc ortii, music became f.,r me tlie e]o,|uence of a pas-

H ,1 T/"'' '"'?''' ""'>• l""'"^"'^-' P^-lV-wepl as tliev
sened to the passionate ua.l that mv a.i.M.im soul ,lrew
I <Mii the responsive kcs s .,f the or-an 1 i,ad -,s v/i ,,.,
th.aight of offering to her my .levotion. but ■a.s^^^ , ie m
to worship at a di.stance. Who can set limits to le
.ower of sympathy. How did she divine the passion t a
ns .re,l my n.us.c? I cannot tell. Hut .so it was
Uuuu-e wlncli deternnnes the late of .so manv things de-
ternnnedours One evening, after tlK- conceit, her^ather
engaged in s,. emu conversation with s..me „f ii,e chief
men of the city; they p,olonge<I their talk long fti
every ""e el.se had left the church. Amalia, mei mv '•
had wandered rouu.l the old building, looking ^te
quaint monuments that marked the re.sthigplace.s of ma v
a strong Ritter of the ancient time. It sc, chance UrU
she entercHl one of the tran.septsas I came down he st ks
from the organ-loft and we mel-alo,K- face o tee
I here wa.s one look-t!ie words ■Amalia,' ' Krnst '-
and clasped m each other's arms we sobled our vows of
fSi- ir''- ,^^"^"Pt".'■e was .soon interrupted bv her

hen-I felt wi h a strange shiulder, the cold .shadow of the

uige despa.r that has since swallowed me. Whv go over

Ibul : '"'^ ■'^^"'■y^rtolen interviews few and\short

Blind as we were, we knew that ours was a hopeless love ■

at the presumption of a beggar's brat," as he called me
aspiring to the hand of his daughter. lu his furv e

love". ,M ' ^^'^^/''^'^•">? J'^-^r lofty name by stooping to
love a plebeian such as I. ■> v h ^

"Oh, the long nights of racking agony, the wild deliri-
ous days; yet, .strangely, I think of thein as belonging to
-some one else and pity him, pity him. I sit for ours
and question myself, Was it I who endured ? Then I fall
to weeping; and oh, how I pity him, whether it was I or
another who suffere.l. Something has go, e from mv
memory of what followed. I can onlv, wiUi labor recall

dS'-ared thn/ln 'f ■ f/''^^^'^'^.'''-'- that the old count had

h^tir r ^^a"^'liter having pnned unworthy to be

the wife of a man of noble birth, he would give her to

The " Scratch Club."

Ihc first suilor xvho presented himself, who wP.s rich
enough to fre.- luin Iroin his einl-arrassmeiils, no nmtler
what Ills station. This ronsed n.e to a new h;o Riches
became my sole desire. I dreamed <.f In.dm- vast treas-
ures. I spent davs and nights searclnng thron^h deser ed
ruined houses with the hope of findui- some lorgotteii
hoard. I still retained my skill as a player and composer.
I bargained eagerly with publishers. exacUng the ast
farthing they w..uld give for my nmsic; with every adu-
tiou to my small hoard, my raging thirst for gold in-
creased. I tortured mvsclf forming vaiii plans to grow
rich rapidlv, when a strange event took place One day
a pleasant 'h)okiiig elderly man, quiet y ^»'^/7^);.'";"^, y
dressed was waiting for me when I descended from the
organ loft, he approache.l me with the easy manner of a
man of the world, complimented me on my perf .rmance,
and in a patroiu/ing way, ituiuired about my prospects.
I was easilv induced to pour out all my griefs and desires
to any one who would listen, and tohl him eagerly of my
wish to grow rich. He smiled a strange smile and said :
. I ,j„, rich— rich bevond your w!lde>t dreams-but I
would willingly give the half of it to po.ssess -V "»r ;;;lei' •
' \h'' I cr=ed ' I wish it were possible ; without Amalia 1
value it not ' ' If you will consent,' he replied, ' nothing
is easier ' As he spoke these words he fixed on me a
look that .seemed to burn into my brain. With some mad
hope I said: ' I consent, with all my heart W ith a
'.traii-e gesture he suddenly and unexpected y put hi^
h uurou my head, I felt a shock, like fire, rusl; through
my body, and fell insensM.le. When I regamed con-
cfousness I was alone, but held a closely folded paper m
„iv hand ; mechanically I opened and read it without .t
first comprehending these strange words : I resent Uiis
atthe bank. Amalia is your...' Sudden y their meaning
aashed on me. Deliri.nis with joy I rushed through the
c^tix-ets, entered the heavy gates of the temp eot mammon,
laid the paper before the attentive clerk. W ith a ook ol
Si^^prise he picked it up. I then observed for the first
time some w ritiiig at the bottom of he sheet, what ,t w-as
I know not, but its effect was magical. Ania/ed stupefied
I stood silent while the head men of the bank crowded

The " Scratch C/ub."

121

, who WP-S rich
nu-nls, lu) matter
lew U:c. Riches
luliiig vast treas-
lhn)U,i;h deserted
^ sonic lorgi>lteu
•er and composer,
ixactiiig the kist

with every adtli-
hirst for gokl in-
in plans to grow
; ])hice. One day
• and becomingly
scended from the
easy manner of a

niv ])erfi)rmance,
lut my prospects.

griefs and desires
lim eagerly of my
re smile and said :
■,t dreams — but I
issess your talent.'

without Amalia I
: rei)lied, ' nothing
he fixed on me a
. With some mad
; heart.' With a
xpectedly put his
fire, rusl-i through
1 I regained con-
.•ly fuUled paper in
read it, without at
rds : ' Present this
;nly their meaning
ushed through the
emple of mannuon.
k. With a look of
served for the first
: sheet, what it was

Anui/ed, stupefied,

the bank crowded

around me, and ccmgratulatcd me on my sudden rise to
wealth. The news spread like wild tire liirougii the eity
that a liberal stranger had made Jvriist the organist
wealthy, and now he would have nothing to do but to add
to his fame as one of the greatest compo.sers in Oermany.
I heard them speaking thus as I left the bank, but i)a,ssei'
on unheeding, intent oidy on claiming Amalia as my own.
Then I heard, I know not how, that she was away, no
one knew where, or when .she would return. Kranlic at
the delay in the fruition of my hopes, I wanderetl ainr-
lessly about the streets for hours, until ready to sink with
weariness and exhaustion, when, bethinking me of my
old tried friend, my solace during so manv weary liours,
my organ, I turned my stejjs towards the' church. The
evening was approaching rapidly as I entered it.
The ghastly form.s on the .sculptured arches and on
the tombs of the knights seemed, in the dim light,
to be iiodding their heads to each other and leering
at me as I passed up the deserted aisle, I thought I
heard faint echoes of sardonic laughter as I oi)ene(l
the organ, and then, oh, horror! I discovered the »)rice
I had paid for my wealth. The key-board was a blank,
to my i)ewildered gaze ; little griinling devils seemed to
tos.s the keys about and mix tnem in unmeaning con-
fusion. I tried to put my hands on them. Lost — lost
was all my skill; hideous di.scord followed the attemjit.
A satyr's head, among the grotescpie carvings on the
organ, suddenly assumed the face of the ])olite stranger,
asking me, with mocking smiles, 'if I was tired of 'my
bargain.' With a shriek of terror I sprang from the seat,
which was instantly filled for a moment by a slmdowy
form, which turned on me the sad, reproachful gaze of
my earl\-, only benefactor. I strove to rush from the
place, when again there surged through me that .scorching
fire. I .seemed to sink into a limitless vault of awful
darkness, acro.ss which, in flaming letters that seared my
eyes, I read, ' Hope is not for Judas in art as in religion.'
With a superhuman effort I rose to mv feet to flee. The
church was filled with a i)ale, unearthly light. All the
grotesque and horrible monsters, carved bv the cniniing
hands of long-forgotten artists, as symbols of evil pas-

122

The " Scratch C/k/k"

sioiis— all were in motion. They glared on me, oi leered
on nie, their new comrade, a hideous welcome. A huge
stony .serpent that coiled round a large pillar, twisted and
untwisted his ponderous rings, and with glittering eyes
fixed on me, hissed, 'Judas, Judas.' Maddened with
shame, I rushed from the church and fled, I knew not
whither— far from the cit\-, over lonely coiuitry roads, for
days and nights without rest. One evening I sank ex-
hausted by a small inn in a quiet Alpine town. There
was great hustle and preparation going on to receive some
imjiortant guest. Travel-stained and weary, I was thrust
aside as of no importance, and was glad to accept the
invitation of a servant, who, compassionating my worn
appearance, invited me to take a seat in the kitchen.
Stupefied with fatigue, I sank into the welcome seat, but
was soon attracted l)y the noise and bustle that announced
the arrival of a travelling carriage. As the party entered
I heard the cheery voice of a man giving orders for their
accomnuxlation, then a slight remark accompanied by a
rippling laugh from a woman's voice that sent the blood
surging through my veins, and made me bound from my
seat and rush wildly into the hall. My appearance was
greeted with a scream from x\malia, who threw herself
into the arms of the man, crying, ' Oh, my husband, save
me from that madman.' At the sound of the word
'husband,' I .sank as though blasted by a bolt from
heaven. I remember no more.

" For years, long years, have I sat watching the build-
ing of these walls that are soon to crush me. I am calm
and patient now. My doom is just. I sold my birth-
right for gold."

Oiiincs. Where did you get that horrible story ?

Dalton. It was the work of a maniac, an inmate of the
insane asylum for years. From what I could gather of
his history, he was a young musician of great promise,
whose reason was up.set on hearing that a young lady —
whom he knew only by sight, but for whom he had con-
ceived a romantic passion, ^ — was about to be married.

i on me, ot leered
elcome. A huge
pillar, twisted and
th glittering eyes
^Iaddened with
fled, I knew not
coiuitry roads, for
Aening I sank ex-
ine town. There
;)n to receive some
eary, I was thrust
lad to accept the
onating my worn
t in the kitchen,
welcome seat, but
tie that announced
; the party entered
ig orders for their
accompanied by a
iiat sent the blood
le bound from my
y appearance was
>ho threw herself
my husband, save
und of the word
I by a bolt from

atching the build-

h me. I am calm

I sold my birth-

ible story ?
, an inmate of the
I could gather of
of great promise,
it a young lady —
ivhom he had con-
to be married.

T/ie " Scra/t/i Qubr

^21

Uixzel. It has taken so long to rend your weird story
that it is too late to begin aii\ di>cussion.

Hr. Cioodmau. 1 have a shrewd .suspicion that Dalton
invented it liiinself, as a sort of allegory to teacli the im-
portant trulli tl;at sincerity is the one tiling needful in all
pursuits; that the artist deba.ses his art when he iuake.s
its gains his cliief concern.

Crabbc. Vou may l)e riglil ; but I crin't, for tlie life of
me, imagine when, where, or how Dalton gained anv
knowledge of tiie " tender emotion."

Di. Coodiiiaii. Cra!)be, you make me aslianied for you.
Come away and be scolded.

Crabbc i^s/z/^s). Ach ! ' ' Ich liabe gelcl^t und geliebet. ' '

EICxHTHEXTII liYHXlXG.

A /)is(iissi(>i/ on (.(iioal Miis/ia/ Taslf and
Inlmialional ( 'opyr/o/i/.

CI Hi) discussion this evening was so interesting that I
made very copious notes of it : The views e.\])ressed
b\- the clul) on the(|Ueslu)n (»i tlie i)resence or alisence of
musical tasle in .Vmerira. seemed to me well worthy of
preservation, e\en though they may not lie (juite correct,
being the ojiiuions of men who may be considered as ex-
perts. Their views on tlie International Copyright

If'

124

The " Scratch Club"

wrangle, thou^;li somewhat warmly (.'xpressed, are, I
think, in the main just; however, instead of obtruding
my own opinion, I will retire to my customary obscurity
and let them speak for themselves :

Dr. Cioodman. I think, speaking of musiccd taste, that
I remember on a former occasion hearing Crabbe say that
he always looked with suspicion on artists who professed
the aim of elevating the public taste, adding with — what
shall I say ? — his usual urbanity — that it was only a cover
to " ])utting a few dollars in the artist's pocket."

C'-al>br. I admit it all, Doctor, but —

Parks. The urbanity.

Pr. (ioodiiiiut. Parks, don't try to emphasize my mild
jest.

Crahbr. That awful iioem has been the ruin of Parks.
He sets up \u;\\' for a wit.

lfa-:cL Upon— Oh, what a slender basis !

Parks. Anyway, the basis was fact, not " allegory.''

Pr. (iiHHinnvi. {^.4s Ha:cl Is about to retort). Now do
stop. I want very much to have some serious d' • nission.
So please f(jr one evening to forget both " i)oem " and
"allegory." Dalton won't you answer me. I would
like to know if the general musical culture of our pe()i)le
is, or is not, as high as that of other countries. I have a
suspicion ftom certain things that I have heard or read
that it is not, and I want to know why.

Palton. Oil, Doctor, how easy it is to ask hard questions
— how hard to answer them satisfactorily ! To begin : I
think the truest answer may be reached by deduction from
this premise ; the art of a people must be an indigenous
growth if it is ever to reach the highest plane. It is otily
thus that art becomes the genuine expression of the na-
tional .soul, if I may say so.

Dr. Cioodinau. I will grant that, but does it follow that

repressed, are, I
ml of ohtrudiisg
omary obscurity

.iskvl ta.stu', that
: Cral)l)e say that
:s who professed
liiij; with — what
was only a cover
)ocket."

phasize my mild
' ruin of Parks.

t " allegory."'
retort). Now do
■riousd'-nissioti.
Ill " j)oeiii " and
r me. I would
ire of our people
iitries. I have a
^e heard or read

ik hard questions
f ! To begin : I
ly deduction from
be an indigenous
Mane. It is otdy
:ssion of the na-

oes it follow that

The " Scratch Club.

125

a people without an indigenous art are thereby incapaci-
taled to appreciate the art of more forttinate peoples >

Dal Ion. I fcar-yes-in a great <lcgree. Music is I
venture to say, beyond all other arts, the most perf.'ct ex-
pression of the national soul. Now, the development of
a national soul, or artistic sense, ( I wish I coul.l find a
better word to exi)ress my meaning), presupposes l.mg
years of undisturbed growth, until a people have become
iiomogeneous in thought and feeling. Plie exact reverse
of this IS the case witli our people, here we have a .seeth-
ing mas.s made up of units from every race on the face
oftheearth, a process of adjustment ever going on bnt
ever interrupted by fresh innux .,f new material. This
provides the best possible medium for the growth of the
useful-the material, but the worst po.ssible for the
beautiful— the ideal.

CrablH-. In other words your meaning is : It wonld
takea thou.sand yearsof quiet simmering to amalgamate
the ingredients of our national pot, and, with the lid on
to keep out fresh additions to the soup.

Hazel. Crabbe. it is too bad. I was just getting inter-
ested in Daltou's di.scour.se when you must cut in and
spoil it.

Dalton. Never miml; he expressed mv idea exactly but
not (juite in the way I was going to.

Parks. We have a better opinion of vou than that

Dallon. Now, I think that without ibis national soul
guided and trained by native artists, who are at once it.s
creators audits product, there can be no such thing as a
widespread high degree of culture.

C.abhe. But, in its place, a fierce wrangle, for the most
part Ignorant and therefore fiercely dogmatic of
•| schools •• and imitators of " schools " and advocates of

schools. " -A great cry, but a great scarcitj- of wool. ' '

136

Tlii " ScraUli Clubr

Dr. Coodmau. Doii'l bf so sriviige ; don't you tliink
tliat tliis very i.-oiillicl will Rsull in some i c\v tliiiiR.
better perhaps tluui the world has yet known ? Truth
always comes forth purer and stronger from the fires ol

con flic'

Dultoii. If it is a question of science or ethics, yes ; but
beiny; a (luestionofart, 110.
Ilii-:el. I fail to see why.

Palloii. IJecause there are absolute standards for these
thiuKS. Coullict oidy makes them k^'I themselves more
and more in accord with eternal fact. But there is no
such absolute staiulard fcrart, least of all for the art of
music. Conflict tends to cry.slalli/.e opinion into dogma,
and dogma is the death of art.

Crabbr. True, for my part, I don't even believe in the
rules of harmony, yet they are the only tangible things in
nuisic. When any(jne begins to dogmatize in my liearing
about uuisic I always ask him to explain to me the differ-
ence between " Shoo fly " and "II mil) Tesoro." Why
is one vulgar, the other beautiful ? Music will never be
explained until the translation of sensation into emotion
is explained. Here is the problem algebraically put : Let
X be the mass of aerial vil)ralions of .liffcring in tensities
and amplitudes we call tlie fifth symphony, then let j' be
the auditoiy apparatus upon which they impinge, then
11' must .someway — ;/, the emotion caused in the hearer.
' Parks. Well, what a rigmarol- ! I wonder if any other
man living omldgel " .Shoo fly," the " translation of sen-
sation." and .11', into one l)reathless sentence,

Cnihbr. Parks, in all many-sided minds the macrocosm
lies infolded ; the finite thus in a certain sense compre-
hending the infinite. In such minds the mutual inten c-
l)eudence of the apparently trivial and the apparently im-
portant assumes its true value, and therefore—

don't y<m tliink

JIUL' lew lllillK,

known? Trnlli
roin the fires of

ethics, yes ; but

uuhirds for these
themselves more
But there is no
11 for the art of
liuii into tlognui,

en believe in the
an^ible things in
i/e in my hearing
1 to me the dilTer-
Tesoro." Why
isic will never be
ion into emotion
iraically put : Let
Iring in tensities
ony, then let j' be
•y impinge, then
ised in the heaver.
)nderif any other
translation of sen-
:ence.

ds the macrocosm
in sense compre-
e mutual inten e-
he ajiparently ini-
efore —

The "Scratch Club."

127

Piii/cs. Oh, stop. I'm stninied,

Dr (nmhiian. Has no one else anything to add ? Dalton
has laid a philos(.phical foundation —

Ciabbc. And it only remains for us, themiphilosophical,
to build our wood, straw, or stubble on it, I suppose?
Well, I will make my eonliil)ution. Allhough I am not
quite sure wheUier it is a cause or an eflVet of misguided
taste — I refer to the modern concert -this amusement is
nowadays apt to be either all ])iano, or all violin, or all
voice, and is given under the alfecled name of ;i " recital.'
I am old-fogy enough to prefer a judicious mixture of ail
three; and with regard to the singing, perhaps to my
shame, 1 prefer songs in the concert mom, even (I iilush
to add) extenduig my ]>refcrence to songs in my own
tongue. Why must singers bring the ojjcra into the con-
cert-room ? These grand scenas are desjjoiled of half
their elTect when separated from their proper surround-
ings. Now, I am sure that good songs, in a language
" understanded of the people," will always plea.se even
the most fastidious. But the evil does not stop at the
concert-room, because the amateurs and the little singers
must follow the bad example. Wlio has not suffered .it
a i)arlor concert or a musical ter. from tlie labored attempt
of some mi.sgnided girl to sing tlie great arias that great
singers spend years of study to achieve? Who has not,
with guilty con.science, joined in the com]<liments, the
congratulations, that luake the recording angels weep sf)
that they cannot see to write them down ? Not long ago
I heard a jxxir girl at a i)arlor concert sing a tierman
"lied," an Italian aria, and a .Scotch song. The eficct
on me was to make me wonder that I liad never before
been struck with the resemblance of these langu,^ges to
each other. Her last "effort" was an Ivnglish song.
At its conclusion, a grave gentleman, who had been a

138

Tlu " Scrnfch Club:'

vcr>' attc'iiti vc listener, said to me, without malice evi-
dently, "Will you l)e kind ciiouj;li to tell me what
lan^fua^c that was.'" He looked injured when I replied,
"IviiKlish," and moved his chair away. Now, "how
altered were the sprightly tone ' were these voting
ladies, these mild tenors, many oi whom have pretty
voices, to study sonjjs in their own lan^juaj^e, first learn-
ing the words and how to proiiouiict' them, tluti how to
read them, then how to sin^ them. Think ol" the in-
terested listeners ' ol tlie hilui/it rasa oi" the celestial
1 )ook keepers ! Why! it would he a wellspring of
hai)piness in two worlds.

/)>: iioihiiiKiii. Oh, Cralihe I I'.ow jon do manage to
get the most incongruous ideas into juxtaposition. Vet,
I heartily agree with you.

Ihi-cl. Is it not a laudable anii)ition, though, for ama-
teurs to attempt the things they are taught to admire ?

Dalton. Was it "laudable and)ition ' in Marsya.'+lo
contend with Apt)llo for the pri/e in nuisic !

Dr. (rooiiiiiini. Your comparison is too harsli, yet it is
very necessary to distinguish between an ambition that is
laudable and one that is presumi)tuous; and it certainly
.seems .somewhat presumptuous for amateurs to attemj)t
what Craljbe says great artists take yeans of labor to
accomplish.

Crabbc. I am sure tiiat the "intelligent foreigner"
nuist often laugh in his sleeve at, some of the attempts to
sing hi.s language that he has to submit to. We havi-
all heard foreigners sing our language; but how? I
remember on one occa^-'on hearing an esteemed singer of
Teutonic extraction. She was "encored;" ol' course she
came out and .sang that nuisance of a Scotch song, in
which the obtrusive young woman confides to the audience
tliat all the young men within a mile of Ivdinbro' grin at
her.

Tlu " Scratch Ciubr

129

lout malice tvi-
i» kll iiif wlial
when I replied,
Now, "liDW
e these yi)iiii>;
om have pretty
itaj^e, first learii-
•111, tluti liow to
'liiiik of the iii-
of the celestial
I wellspriiig of

do manage to
aposition. Yet,

hoiigh, for ania-
lit to admire ?

ill Marsyaj>lo
ic \

) harsh, yet it is
ambition that is

atul it certainly
Lenrs to attein])t
L'ars of labor to

i^ent foreigner ' '
the attempts to
it to. We have
:; but how ? I
eemed singer of
; " of course she
Scotch song, in
■s to the audience
Ivdinbro' grin at

/1"vf'f. Oh, hold „n; you are mixing two songs.

Lnibhc. ^Vs I remember now; I ,i,„. \\\.\\ ;,t ^^^.
rate, it was the son^ wliidi begins, according to her,
'(fin a pod-de e-f iiutt a pod-de-e-e.''

Ila-:cl. I oiu-e saw the sniniinity of an Kpiscopal service
sadly npset by some (krman singers in the choir, who
began the " Venite," -Q gum! kt ns sing • The
rector sent np word that he would rea.l the remaining
canticles. *'

n,.(iood„uu,. We seem to be trailing ofT into absunl
leMiiiuscences. Come, Hazel, it is your turn.

n,i-.1. Well, r li.ive a theory th.it the copyright I
shonl.l say the copywrong. law- international, I meaii-
has a very detrimental effect on pnblie taste

Dr. (hnniman. Tint is a surprising the<.ry at least
Do proceed.

Haul Suppose a musician writes, say, a goo.l song.
Naturally he would like to get .some m ,uey return for the
pleasure the public might get fnmi its po.sseSKion His
<le.sue is perleclly just, because the production of a IukIi-
class composition presupi.oses a long and .severe traininu
and every man has a right to demand a return for hU
work If the public want it. Now, if it were a " peiicil-
sharpei.er," or a " tlytrap," or any other never ,so con-
temptible piece of mechanism, he mi.^ht .secure the sole
right to make and .sell it all over the civilized world • but
being merely a piece of "fine art," anvbodv out of his
own country may steal it.

Cahbc. Hut y.m forget "genius" is the property of the
world to use or abuse ^generally the laVH-r) as it plea.seth
; •• ^^'>-t7!>^;' '-i'"! " pencil-sharpeners •• are cmcrete
lungs, of which the money value is patent to the n.ost
obtuse of legislators. Genius should be above the sordi.l
desire for " lood, shelter, and raiment --should seek

130

The " Scratch Clubr

only fame. Then let it han<j or staive, so the world (and
the publishers) gain. Pardon my interruption, and
proceed.

Hazel. One result of this is that the publisher says, and

truly, "Why should I pay you for a song when I can

pick and choose from all the songs in Europe for nothing ?"

Dr. Goodman. I musL confess I do not see yet why

such a state of affairs should injure public taste.

Hazel. Wait a moment, I am coming to it. The sale
of the best work in any art is necessarily slow, and the
publisher is, on that account, afraid to put money into it.
Therefore, the only good \\ ork he publishes is that that
lias already become well known in ICurojje, because he is
sure to get a return for his outlay.

Crabbe. Well, isn't he quite right? Pul)lishing houses
do not pretend to be educational establishments, thev are
only commercial ventures.

Hazel. Yes, I know that. I am not blaming them, I
am merely trying to get at a clear statement of the case.

Dr. Goodman. What do you suppose woul'd lie the
effect of an international copyright ?

Hazel. Just this. The publisher would have to pay for
the foreign Avorks he printed. The native artist, if unable
to sell his work at home, would have the chance of selling
it abroad. This would soon bring about a fair l)alance in
the relation nf the writ<'r lo the pul)lisher.

Dr. Goodman. I can see how the case of the writer
would be improved, but not yet, how the public taste is
affected.

Hazel. Publishers make nif-ney from their copyrights,
and the valuable copyrigllt^ are, as a rule, the worst kind
of music, and they cost him nothing. There are thou-
sands of ambitious amateur writers who, with laborious
effort, torture out of the piano scmething that they and

The " Scratch Club:'

131

so the world (and
interruption, and

)ubli3hersays, and

song when I can

rope for nothing?"

not see yet why

ilie taste.

ig to it. The sale
irily slow, and the
put money into it.
ilishes is that that
•ope, because he is

Pul)lisliing houses
ishnienls, thev are

)t blaming them, I
anient of the case,
ose would lie the

uld have to pay for
;ive artist, if unable
lie chance of selling
ut a fair l)alance in
lier.

case of the writer
the ])ublic taste is

ni their copyrights,
rule, the worst kind
;. There are thou-
irho. with laborious
thing that they and

their friends think is music, they ru.sh off, glowing witli
ambition to the publisher. Pie blandlv .savs ; " oii, yes,
I will publish your music if you will take llVty copies, you
can easily dispose of them amongst your frieiuls." Now
see the result. The "composition" co.sts the publisher
nothing, the engraving is paid for (and niore^ by the fifty
copies the author buys. He (the pu])lislier; .se'cures the
copyright. If it should take, as many of these things do
in the most unaccountable fashion, he reaps n golden
harvest. If it does not take, he loses nothing.

Dr. Goodman I should call that a symptom not a cause
of bad taste or low musical culture, because even if the
copyright law were changed, I think publishers .vould go
on in the .same way as long as they made money 1)y it.

Dal ton. True; but I agree with Hazel in thinking that
other circumstances would i)roduce beneficial results,
because good writers would have more inducement to
write, and the production of a better class of music might
in time produce a higher standard of popular taste.
Crabbc. Il'm ! problematical, very !
/v. Coodman. Apart from any such considenaion, lean-
not see why the patent law and' the copyrigh: law .should
not be identical in tlieir provisions. I also tliiiik that,
when any work, be it book, machiiie, music or what n^t,'
meets with a success that was not anticipated, that the
author or inventor should have a'fair share of the i)rofit.

Crabbc. The world is not (piite ready for equitv, has a
hard struggle-too often a vain one— to secure law , .ind a
veritable " Father Antic " it proves very ofLin.

Dr Goodman. It would b-; a good plan to make these
rights inalienable. It would -,ccure justice tv) the author
and inventor, and do no injustice to the publisher and
maker.

Crabbe. Don't you see what an injustice it would be to

1^"

[

13:

The " Scnrfi/i Club."

the poor niamifacturer, to lake from him the chance of
getting holil of the (-(iiitrivauce of some ingenious work-
man wlio, poor fellow, has no idea of its commercial
value, fur a trifle ? vShould not shrewdness be rewarded as
Well as ingenuity ? Is it not the capital of the one, as
genius is of the other ? Ought it not to have free plaj',
like all the other gifts of nature ?

Hazel That's enough of sophistry, or is it sarcasm?

Parks. How sarcasm ■• It seems to me a good argu-
ment. Who would not jump at the chance of buying a
valuable patent if he could get it chea]) ?

Daltoti. Ivven "sports" consider it infamous to bet on
a certainty, and I can see no dilTerence between ])aying a
man iive dollars for what you know, Init he does not, is
worth fifty, and picking his pocket.

Dr. Cioodumn. There is a rule of life called the "golden
rule," and there is a rule of business called "caveat
emptor." What depths and heights divide them! I
dare not despair, j'ct I hardly dare to hope that a time
may come when mankind will walk by the first, and will
be ashamed to remember that they ever lived by the last.

Crabhe. "When will that be,

Say the bells of Stepnee ?

I do not know,

,5ays the great bell of Bow."

Hazel. Let ns make our exit after that neat, tasteful
tag to Dr. Goodman's remark;i, we have talked half the
night away.

ni the chance of
iiii^Luious work-
)f its coininercial
ss be rewarded as
tal of the one, as
D have free play,

is it sarcasm ?
ne a pood arjj^u-
ancc of ])nyiiig a

ifanums to bet on
letwcen ])aying a
lit he does not, is

lUed the " golden
s called "caveat
divide them ! I
hoi>e that a time
the first, and will
lived bv the last.

:hat neat, tasteful
re talked half the

NINETEKXTH EVENING.

Dr. Good,„au Tr//s a Sfory ahoul a Strad.
rari/ts I '/<>////,

:^^;:;i.:;.zi; ■:;? '!n;::-^;^rr"^""' ^"-^ "

seisnt, \r 1 ' "^ ^■'■'^^ niL-etmg f,,,- this

In we f. .'■'"■ T"' "' ""^^ I^'^^'-'^-'^ hours togc-the
liatue feci soineuliat saddened at the nn,s,u«<-t -.f
k>ngsepuratio„. ^Vry little was said be'^H V n h"
began, but the genius of ,„„sie- soo„ asserted l,-?
I^^ce^io the musical sold, n. an the pettvm":^'^^

^v rX^'"''^^r''"-P-l''^>--ot).e,scango
«"', 3t.ir aflei year, plavnig the <iuirl.tt,.< ,,r ir i

M.^r. .,.,,. „„v. .i„,t,. z-:^:::.];;;j'^

instance, (.ial)l)e has been a (iinrt,.ft,.
player (;.r „e,.rly fi,ty years, yet he savs-- ^ '"^^t
:iou-n to a quartette without a thrill of pleasure tnts
':Klescnl,able.- Hveu Parks, who le.nned 'to p " t e' vio
I'll with the a\ owed intention of plnin.r n.. i ! . ,

man uie otlleI^ surprise, d scovered that nr,.ff,. i

W lost their attractions .,n.im,:;!de,^^"n^^
et he wdl uotaduiit it, hisbeloved Italian op .a i J „'

ow losrry, us charniTiie playing was ke^tu;::,

our. They seemed loth to stop withou^ goi, '- ,^J u

then- old favorites. When they ceased 'and' lit thei"

( '.!J )

134

The " Scratdi Club."

cigars, Ihcrc was very liltk- conversation, except that each
one, in a few words, told his plans for the snnnner and
expressed his anticipations of their meeting again in the

fall.

Dr. Goodman perceiving that the talk langnished, said
—'•I have lately heard a strange story abont a violin,
from one of the actors in it, if you care to hear it,
I will tell it, since you all .seem unwilling to talk." They
all assented warmly and the Doctor, producing a .small
roll of manu.script, said, " I have written the story out,
fearing I might spoil it if I attempted to tell it." With
this remark he read as follows :

' • I lalstrom is a large town in the iron district of Sweden,
black and grimv with the smoke of huge blast furnaces
that cover "the hillsides, sending forth day and night their
black clouds of smoke, lit occasionally by the glare irom
the tall chimnevsthat .stand like the blasted trunks ot a
fire-swept pine' forest, all over the district. Scattered
here and there are the cottages of rough stone, with .sleep
thatched KH.fs, where live the stalwart non-workers, whose
incessant labor transmutes the stubborn iron ore into the
tlunisand and one useful shapes that find their way t<i all
the world. A splendid race are these workers, tall, lair-
haired and blue eve;l, like their Viking ancestors, like
them, to.>, stanch and true-li.javted, brave and tender.
■ Among the bravest and truest was CXscar Sweynsen, only
son of his widowed mother. A prince among his fellows
was Oscar at either work or merry-making, lie luul
long loved Hilda, one (>f the kiirest maidens in the town,
ami now having reached a posititm m the iron \v< rks
that brought him suflicient means, he proposed to hei.
She not insensible to his good looks and well-known
character, accepted him, but alas! when Hans Petersen,
the .son and heir of the rich old notary, sought her, uaz-
/led with che glitter of his gold, she broke her faith with
Oscar pad became the wife of Hans and went to live in
the large stone house al the end of the town. Poor Oscar
bore his disappointu.-xit bravely, as became lum, heuevtr

Till- '• Scratch Club."

135

. cxcent that(.;ach
r the suinni(.i" an<l
.•ling agaiii in tli»^

c latii;uishe(l, said
y about a violin,
care to hear il,
ig to talk." Tluy
>ro(lucing a small
LMi the story out,
Lo tell it." With

district of Sweden,
ige blast furnaces
lav and night their

by the glare from
lasted trunks of a
listrict. Scattered
h stone, with sleep
ron-w'xkers, whose
II iron ore into the
nd their way to all

workers, tall, lair-
ing ancestors, like
lirave and tender.
L-ar Sweynsen, only
.' among his fellows
-making. He had
aidens in the town,

in the iron wcrks
L' ])roiiosed to hci.
:s and well-known
len Hans Petersen,
y, sought her, daz-
l')roke i;er faith with
uid went to live in
■ town. Poor Oscar
ecame him, he uevtr

complanied, but rarely .smiled ; worked harder than ever
bu las merry lace and laugh were never a,,ain .s'n, and
heaid at the merry-makings. All his idk- hours were
spent at home playing on a violin of won.lerful .sweetness
and power, the wild n,elancholy airs of his nati i 1 md
Ihis violn. was an heirlo..m that had descended from 1, h
grea gran, lather. A restless n.ver. with grea m ie^l
ab.luy he h.ad visited nearly everv city in^u „ s ,
solo p aver, and ha<l bought this violi,, of Stradiva rh s

^.'uh ■> V ^''^ m' '""^^ ^'''^'''^''^'' possession, and ^

del, he eharge.l lu.s .sou never to let it pass out of the
n.n.ly Hi.s descendants had respected tl,e wish o le

d y.o n, player an.l, though ni.ne of then, ], .,1 ever
been players, ,el,g„n,s!y kei-t the violin. Thus ]„ Ik

HeT r^- ',""'■• '\ ^■••'•"^- •■"^•' ^'•^' l'<-session . f' s. r'
le ha.l ,nlKr,te<l some of the musical in.sti„els of [s
ancesU.r, but poverty and the uece.ssity of hani work to
support h,s w,dowe,l „,other had del.rred hi, In,
learning to play. However, his native talent ft un a
way to overco„,e all obstacles. J5y <li„t c.f pat e ce „d
acl,ee he accon.plished enough'to enable I,inV u' p
is e.xqu,s,te uat.ve melodies with a palhosand expiess, ,
that no an,o,,,,t o, instruction eoul/l 1..,,. betlea'd A
ua>s att.aehed to l„s v,oIi„, i„ hjs anguish at H,ld- 's
desert,..,,, ,t be..„„e b^s only ...lace. I^ w..„l. s^ o ,J
■ He hour, far int., the night, p.,uring o„t his ve, v s. ,
.is nch, .sweet ,so„nds. His niother, to who,,, ,e f
.ss.ble. grew ever n.ore tender, saw with wistful eves
tile change th.at ha.l c.„„e over her once gav .so .and
feanng he w.ml.l never recover while ,s., „c.„-- Hil a "he
im.|H.scd to (Xscar that they should leave their ol, home
n go to Amenca. (^scar gla.Ily cnsente.l, having hg

- V n '/•'"■''',/" -T^VS^" ''"I the brea.lth of the oee.- n
L, . '"V':;^^'*^'!"'! '"^ f^^'i'-l'l^'ss love. S.> thev .s.>Ul tl,"
cc^ttage an.l the h.miely furnitu,-e, ami, bi.l.li,,-^. farew •
tot he,r.sor,-ow,ng f,-iends, sailed for the new xi.rl.

pi rm I Ik Delaware, and Oscar an.l his n,.)ther stepped
. sh.,re, w, h a stn.nge feeling of l..„eli,iess and ho,ne.ii'ek
ntvss ,nt.) the cr.nv.1 and bustle of the new world. 'IW
stock of means was but small, and the first necessity w^

1 3^'

The " Scratch Cluh."

t 4

r.i

to i.rocuru some cheap VnV^w'^. This, nfter some- search,
thev siiceeeaecl in doiiiK. After a rest ot one ri.^ht Oscar
s ill'ied forth to seek work. Their arrival in Philadelphia
was nnforlunatelv timed, being at tlie darkest period of
the financial distress that toDowed the centennial year.
Maiiv large ironworks were closed, and those that still
continued in operation had reduced their forces and were
working on half-time. In vain Oscar visited, one after
mother all the iroiU'/orks in and around the city ; no
room could be found for him. He and his mother lived
.IS <roiioniically as possible, but their little store ol ca^h
lapidlv diminished, and they saw want staring them in
the face. Worn with an.xietv, his mother fell sick, and
Oscar was in desi)air. Looking through the advertise-
ments ill a dailv paper in the hope of finding some em-
ploymeiit, his eve was caught by an advertisement which
read ' Wanted to purchase, a violin ; must l>e lirst cla.ss ;
price no object. Apply to 1). vStrothenck, 216 — vSt
Cold (lrot>s of iK-rspiration stood on Oscar's face alter
reading this. He thouglit of his beloved mother sick,
ivrhai'rs (King, wanting the barest necessities of life.
He tiioughtof his dearlv -cherished violin, the solace ot
so many'lonelv hours; of the dying wish of his ancest()r,
fiithfullv regarded through .so many geiieratums. 1 he
struggle was short. He went hoi:%', took the violin,
kissed his poor mother, who saw that something was
agitating him, and went to see Mr. vStrothenck. 1 his
^•entleman was a wealthv amateur, with more knowledge
of the gciusis of instruments than ability to play them.
I ike all violinists, he was an enthusiast, and grew elo-
(luent over the curves, the scroll, or the varnish of an
Amali. or Maggini, or Stradivarius. And he now had in
ids hai'ids the most perfect specilnen of the la.st and greatest
of these makers, that he had everseen. His eyesgiistcned
as they ran over its faultless curves, noting the even
.straight grain of the bellv, and the delicate ieathered
•curls" on the back that met at the middle at just the
ri"ht angle— not a flaw, not a .scratch was to_ be seen.
\skiiig a few cpiestions about its history, which O.scar
answered in as few simple words, Mr. Strotherick said,
ill his crisp, business-like way, ' It is the most perfect

The'' Scrahh Clubr

iftt-r soniL- search,
f one ri.i;ht, Oscar
il in I'luladelphia
darkcsl pt-riod (.'f
; CLiUciuiial year,
d Ihosf thai still
ir Ibrcxs and were

visited, one after
und the city : no

his mother lived
itlle store of ea>li

staring- theni in
her fell sick, and
<^\ the advertise-

findinK some eni-
vertisenieiit which
inst lie first class ;
■rick, 216 — • St '
Dscar's face after
ived mother sick,
iccessities of life,
ilin, the solace of
di of his ancestor,
generations. The
took the violin,
:it something; was
•itrotherick. This
li more knowledge
ility to play them,
ust, and grew clo-
the varnish of an
^nd he now had in
lie la.st and greatest

His eyes glistened
, noting the even,

delicate feathered
middle at jnst the
h was to be seen,
^tory, which O.scar
r. Strotherick said.
s the most perfect

137

Strad" in America. I'll give you a thousand dollars
for it.' Oscar, who had never conceived the possibility,
of .so much money being in anyone's iiossession at one
time, stared in amazement as Mr^ .Strotherick, with gradu-
ally augmenting enthusiasm over the violin, from which
he could not take his eyes, repeated his offer. Oscar
collected himself enough to say, ' Yes. ' The money was
l)aid, and he left instantly. Mr. .Strotherick remained for
some time absorbetl in the contemplation of his newly-
ac([uired treasure, when he remembered with a shock of
vexation that he had not asked Oscar for his name, or a
dozen other questions that occurred to him ; had not»;ven,
so wrai)t up was he in the violin, observed his personal
appearance. O.scar's mother was .soon jirovided with
proper lood and attention, and recovered rajjidly ; l)ut to
all her questions as to how he had found the means, he
returned the unvarying answer, ' Wait till y(m are well
and strong, then I'll tell you everything,' i)raviiig all the
time that she might not remark that he never played now.
It came at last. Seated one warm evening at the- window
of their little room, she said, ' Oscar, I long to hear some
of the old tunes ; do get your violin and plav ; it is so
long since I have heard them.' Then, witli few and
tender words, he told her that her life was more to him
than anything else in the world, and that their i)resent
comforts were the result of the sale. With streaming
e>es the poor widow fell on her knees and grasped his
hand, saying, thniugh her sobs, ' Q tny son, I know what
It must have cost to make this sacrifice. Ood is good to
me that He gave me .such a .son ; He will reward you,
He will reward you.' O.scar gently raised her, saying
he desired no other reward than to see so dear a mother
well and happy. Her health was .soon so far restored
that she was able to go out, so he took her, one afternoon,
out to the Park. They wandered among the tiees, or sat
watching the never-ending stream of carriages that rolled
over the smooth drives, or the happy parties that laughed
and lunched together in seepicstered places. The fresh
air and bright sun brought the smiles again to the widow's
wan cheek. Rut their enjoyment was suddenly inter-
rupted by a cry of terror. A little basket carriage drawn

«r"

138

The " Scratch Club."

by a spirited pony, driven l)y two little pirls of about
twelve and fifteen, left tlie drive, tlie pony having taken
fright at something. It galloped across the sward towards
the steep precipice that descends to the river. \Vilh(Mit a
word, Oscar .sprang forward to intercept him. Reaching
him just in time, he gras])e(l his nostrils with one power-
ful hand, the end of the shaft with the other, and stopjjed
him a few yards from the brink. A syni])athizing crowd
soon surrounded them. The frightened children were
lifted from the carriage and transferred to the coach of an
old lady, who undertook to take them homt . The guards
took charge of the pony. (Xscar, meanwiiile, (piietly made
his escape umioticed from the crowd and returned to his
mother, who, glowing with jiride and affection, repeated
her words, ' God is good ; He will reward you, lie wUl
reward you.' Wlien the children reached their home and
recounted to their father, who was none other than Mr.
Strolherick, their hairbreadth escape and the gallantry of
their rescuer, his gratitude knew no bounds. He at once
set to work to find out and reward their preserver. This
was no ea.sy matter, Oscar caring nothing for reward, and
thinking little or nothing of his action. Mr. Strotherick
advertised in vain ; questioned over and over again his
chililren, the Park guards, and the old lady who brought
the children home. But the children had not observed
him, neither had the old lady. The guards' only infor-
mation was that he was apparently a working ni.in, very
tall and strong looking, with light hair and blue e}'es.
Mr. Strotherick was not the man to give up anything he
had set his heart upon, so, with tliis .slight clue, he
engaged the services of a keen detective. This officer ques-
tioned everybody over again, found that a man answering
to this descriiition and accom'panied by an elderly wo-
man, had asked some questions of one of the guards, in
broken English, also that his clothes were of a peculiar
foreign-looking fashion. Next he found a conductor on a
Twentv-third street car, who had taken such a couple to
the Green street entrance of the Park. They got on his
car at the transfer station. He had particularly observed
them, his attention being attracted by their foreign look,
and the great height and apparent strength of the man.

The " Scratch Club."

»39

ttle pirls of about
pony having taken
5 the sward towards
L- river. Willicnit a
pt him. Reaching
ils with one power-

otlier, and st()pi)ed
yni])athizing crowd
ne(l chiUlren were
1 to the coach of an
lioMK . The guards
ivliile, (piietly made
and returned to his

affection, repeated
■ward you, lie will
lied their home and
one other than Mr.
11(1 the gallantry of
)Uiids. He at once
ir preserver. This
ling for reward, and
1. Mr. Strotherick
iiid over again his
1 lady who brought
1 liad not observed
guards' only infor-
working man, very
lair and blue ej'es.
;ive up anything he
his .slight clue, he
-.. This officer ques-
at a man answering
by an elderly wo-
e of the guards, in
were of a ])eculiar
nd a conductor on a
en such a couple to
. They got on his
articularly observed
' their foreign look,
-engtli of the man.

vSo the detective thought " thev must have come from the
lower end of the cily." His next step w.is to ask the
police in th;;* district to keep a clo^e lookout for such a
man. He was soon rewarded. An oliicer, whose beat
wa-^ ill the neighborhood of F.)urth and Lombard, .saw
Oscar one morning entering a small hou.se on iMnirtli
street. While in tlie act of telling the detective, O^iir
came out of the house ; addressing him at oiuv the iletec

tue said : '.Mr. Strotherick, at 2\(^, street want.s to

.see jou on important business, and would like you to call
as.soon as possible.' He also took the ])recauti(Mi of secur-
ing ( )scar's name and address. ( )scar set out at once to see
Mr, Strotherick, thinking that it was something about the
viohn that he wished to know. When he presented liim-
seh in Mr. Strotherick 's office he was amazed to lie.ir his
feat recounted to him with every e.\])re;ision of gratitude
that Mr. Strotherick 's warm heart could suggest. To all
his offers of reward (Xscar returned a firm ' Xo,' saying
finally, as he preceived Mr. vStrotherick's distress at hi.s
•--lusal, that if he could help him in any w.av to obtain
work at his trade he would consider himself' more than
repaid. This Mr. vStrotherick jdedged himselfto do, and,
learning that Oscar was an iron worker, he exclaimed
' the very thing '—.so am I— my works are in Frank-
ford ; come to-morrow.' Oscar returne'l with the wel-
come new.sto his mother, and they at once left their dingy
rooms (m Fourth .street and removed to oiieoftlie countless
small houses in the northern part of the citv that justify
Philadelphia's boast as the city of homes, Oscar went to
work manfully. His skill and steadiness soon secured
promotion, and he became the tru.sted foreman of his de-
partment. It happened one evening after working hours
that he had to call on Mr. Strotherick at his hou.se in the
city about some work that was to be begun on the follow-
ing day. He was .shown into the sitting room to wait
the departure of a visitor with whom Mr. Strotherick wa.>-'
engaged. There, on a small table, in its open ca.se, lay
hi.s violin. Tears stood in his eyes as he looked lovingly
at it. Overcome by an impulse he could not control, he
took it up, and began to play some of the old well-re-
membered airs. He was thus engaged when Mr.

140

r/te "Scrxti-li Club."

Strotherick opened the dt^or and stood amazed on seeing
his foreman, the (iiiii-'t, steady K'>i"K Oscar slandinjjj,
rapt, witli the tears rolHnK down liis face, drawing snch
wild, i)assionate sounds from the vioHn, as he Ir.ul never
heard liefore. A moment more, and a sudden liKht burst
on him; he recoi;ni/ed in O.icar the man who sold iiim
llie vioHii. Interrupting; him in his impetuous way, he
exchiimed, ' Why have you kept this secret, wliy didn't
you tell me lonj^ ago?' Oscar replied: 'I knew you
valued tlie violin, aixl I knew you would have want«'d to
i{ive it hack to me, therefore I didn't tell you.' At mis
reply Mr. Strotlieriok's patience };ave way utterly. He
stormed at Oscar, half in jest and half in earnest, called
him ' pig-he ideil ' and a hundred other pretty names.
ma<le him tell his history and the history of the violin,
and in a greater fum.- than ever vowed that he would dis-
charge Oscar and hurn the violin if he refused to take it
again, and wound up by shaking Oscar l)y both hands,
.saying with a quiver of his lips, ' I owe you the lives of
my children ; will you not make nie happy and let me
mike you happy, i)y taki.ig the violin again?' Oscar
was not proof against this earnest ajipeal, and to Mr.
Strotherick's great joy consented and l)ore off his treasure
to his mother. They laughed and wept together over its
recovery, the widow repeating ' Did I not tell you that
Ood was good, and would reward yrm, ;uul He has, He
has, not only now, but will for all eternity reward the son
who gave up, without a murmur, his most cheri.shed
possession for the sake of his mother.' Oscar continued
to rise. He and the generous Mr. vStrotherick are warm
friends, and Oscar is now about to become a ])artner in
the business. Many an evening 'do they sjiend together
playing on and discussing the merits of the inexhaustible
violin, for who ever knew a violin player with a fine in-
strument that had said all that he could say about his
violin."

When the Doctor finished all agreed in expressing their
thanks for his story. After a little desultory conversation
they .shook each other warmly by the hand, with many
wishes for a pleasant summer and hopes for reunion in
the fall, and the "Scratch Club" was gone.

azed on seeing

)scar slandiii);,

drawing; such
^ he hud never
Ulcn li^ht burst

who sold liim
etuons way, he
el, wliy di(hrt
' I knew yuu
have wanted to
I ymi.' At luis
ly utterly. lie

earnest, called

pretty names.
■ of the violin,
\t he would dis-
"used to take it
by both hands,
^ou the lives of
ppy and let me
again ?' Oscar
il, and to Mr.
; off his treasure
Dgether over its
;)t tell you that
and He has, He

rew.ird the so!i
most cheri.shed
^.scar continued
lierick are warm
ne a jiartner in

s])end tojrether
le inexhaustible

with a fine in-
1 say about his

expressing tlieir
ary conversation
ind, witli many
for reunion in
le.

POBT-LORE.

niiVOTlvl) To

SHAKi:SPI:AKH, BROWNIXG,

AND THK

Comparative Study of Literature.

hsurd on the i-^th of nuh month.

A purely Literary Journal, seeking to popnlari7e Jhe
b--t poetry o( all periods, and pnx.edniK through special
study to broader work in comparative literature. It aims
al.so, to give the student news of current literary work'
It carries on its purpo.se by means of eritic.il articles o„
the work of special authors or on general liteniture, and
also, tluougli the following departments :

Societies. --Which gives reports of meetings and
phins of work of societies and clubs.

The Study.-Melps in the study of Shakespeare
Browning and oll.^r jjoets.

The Stage.- Dramatic critici.sms and news of im-
portant stage representations.

The Library.-Lists and review.s of books in the
field of literature.

Notes and News.~Of which letters from London
Pans and New York .ire a regular feature, besides mi.s-
cellaneous notes of a critical nature.

Yearly Subscription, $2.50. Single Number, 25 cts.

The Poet-lore Co.,

223 S. 38th St.,
PHILADELPHIA.

f-,