A V 

 
 Music AIND CULTURE. 
 
 COMPRISING A 
 
 NUMBER OF LECTURES AND ESSAYS. 
 
 BY 
 
 KARL MERZ, Mus.D, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 THEODORE PRESSER, 
 
 1708 CHESTNUT STREET. 
 
 8ANDUSKY, O: CHARLES U. MERZ, M.D.
 
 Copyrighted, 1890, by THEODORE PRESSES. 
 
 PRESS OF WM. F. FELL & Co. 
 
 I220-2A SANSOM ST, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The history of this volume is told in the Introduction. It was the privilege 
 of the editor on many occasions to participate in the labors of the author, and 
 it has been his aim to follow out his ideas as closely as possible. He has closely 
 followed the manuscript, and has spared no pains to render the work worthy of 
 its author and its subject. 
 
 It is hoped, therefore, that this book, which possesses a filial as well as an 
 individual interest for him, may prove an acceptable memento of its loved 
 
 author. 
 
 CHARLES H. MERZ, M. D. 
 Sandusky, 0. 
 
 111 
 
 2081 ,'568
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 la handing to the reading world the heirloom left by a departed friend, the 
 editor will surely be pardoned for endeavoring to inspire the reader with a little 
 of the love and deference which the departed one received at all hands while he 
 lived. 
 
 Not as an opinion, but as a fact, which many of the best musicians of this 
 country will cheerfully corroborate, it may be said that 
 
 Karl Merz was one of the most learned, scholarly musicians of this country ; 
 
 Karl Merz was as a teacher almost unparalleled in inspiring his pupils with the 
 beauty and dignity of his art ; 
 
 Karl Merz was one of the most lovable of men, idolized by his pupils and 
 friends, uncommonly well respected as a citizen, and highly esteemed for his 
 multiform and profound knowledge. 
 
 The essays collected here were written at different tunes, originally for the 
 purpose of being read to the students of Wooster University, where he occupied 
 the chair of the music department. A few of them appeared in some of our few 
 serious music papers and attracted such general attention, that their author was 
 frequently urged to publish them in book form ; but his retiring, modest disposi- 
 tion shrank from publicity, and so he always refused the publication, adding : 
 "My wife and children may publish them when I am dead ! " Alas ! that now, 
 all too soon, the time for publication had to come ; that the feeling of gratifica- 
 tion at the sight of the book has to mingle with the tears of sorrow and regret 
 for the lost friend ! 
 
 And yet in the face of the irrevocable, unfathomable decree of Providence, 
 it is a consolation to the author's friends to read his papers again, to spread their 
 contents of truth and beauty and to thus widen the public appreciation of a truly 
 noble, capable and good man. 
 
 But aside from all which personal relations may prompt the editor to say in 
 regard to these essays, the fact will be readily admitted by the reader, that they 
 form a most valuable and eminently useful contribution to musico-aesthetic litera- 
 ture. Especially the student of music will find in them a source of correct and 
 necessary information, as well as a gentle guide towards an earnest and ideal con- 
 ception of music, of its ethics, nature and mission on earth. But also the 
 unmusical reader will not put the book out of his hands without confessing to 
 himself to have profited by it. 
 
 Dr. Merz was, as mentioned before, a man of multiform knowledge, but besides, 
 he was also an earnest and profound thinker far too profound not to have fully 
 outgrown such mental perversions as religious skepticism, and it is on this point 
 that the essays will prove most beneficial ; a sound religious sentiment, free 
 
 v
 
 VI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 from denominational barriers, prevails in his essays, which at the same time 
 reveal the author's wonderful gift of making his abstract knowledge practically 
 useful and applicable for the student. 
 
 It can really not be praised too much that Dr. Merz, for one, escaped the disas- 
 trous tendency of modern science (or rather, of the erroneous and frivolous 
 interpretation of its wonderful disclosures) ; that Dr. Merz, for one, avoided the 
 widespread mistake of allowing his scientific researches and their results to destroy 
 his idealism. With keen, unerring judgment, he kept the founts and elements 
 of art and science separate, assigning spheres of equal proportions to both healthy 
 emotion and cold reasoning. How forcibly he impressed his powerful convictions 
 on these subjects upon his hearers, the reader will now witness ; certain it is, that 
 every particle of truth in the following pages was earnestly sought for and arrived 
 at by a path of love, of true love to God and to his fellow beings ; and love 
 though said to be blind errs seldom in matters relative to sentiment, the guiding 
 principle in art 
 
 CONSTANTIN STERNBERG. 
 JOHANNES WOLFRAM.
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 (lENIUS, ............................ 9-21 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 SUCCESS IN PROFESSIONAL LIFE, ................ 22-32 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 SCHOPENHAUER'S MUSICAL PHILOSOPHY, ............. 33-44 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Music OF NATURE, ....................... 45-58 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 HEAD AND HEART, ....................... 59-72 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 SANCTITY OF Music, ...................... 73-88 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 CHURCH Music, ........................ 89-108 
 
 CHAPTER VTIL 
 HINTS TO PUPILS, ....................... 109-110 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL, ................ 111-120 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 A PLEA FOR Music, ....................... 121-131 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 VALUE OF MUSICAL EDUCATION, ................. 132-144 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 MEMORY, ............................ 145-156 
 
 CHAPTER 
 WOMAN IN Music, ....................... 157-167 
 
 CHAPTER XTV. 
 HARMONY, ........................... 168-175 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 IMAGINATION, ......................... 176-186 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 EXPRESSION, .......................... 187-192 
 
 CHAPTER XVH. 
 MAXIMS, ............................ 193-206
 
 GENIUS. 
 
 Time, place and action, may, without pains, be wrought, 
 But genius must be born, and never can be taught. 
 
 DRYDEN. " Epis. to Congreve," Line 59. 
 
 The Latin word genius, signifies the divine nature which is innate in all 
 human beings. According to Webster, the word means that peculiar structure of 
 mind with which each individual is endowed, but especially mental superiority and 
 uncommon intellectual power. Great philosophers differ in their metaphysical 
 definition of this word, while little philosophers use it with a freedom that is 
 alarming. Thus we find that he who dabbles in everything, but does nothing 
 well, is by many called a genius. Let a young man be able to play a few tunes 
 upon each of the several horns of a brass band, and immediately he is called a 
 genius. I believe it was Josh Billings, that country-store philosopher, who said, 
 that " a genius is a person who thinks he knows everything, but who in reality 
 knows nothing, except how to spill ' vittles ' on his clothes. ' ' But why multiply 
 quotations? "Sensibility," says a writer, "is that power, which distinguishes 
 man from the animal, and predominating sensibility is Genius." Says James 
 Russell Lowell, " Talent is that which is in a man's possession, Genius is that in 
 whose possession a man is." Being endowed with unusual mental powers, the 
 man of genius is a higher sort of a being. According to some, this term should 
 only be applied to persons engaged in art pursuits ; the human mind, however, 
 is gifted in many ways, and the definition of the word as meaning predominating 
 sensibility, includes all the various directions in which the mind may show forth 
 its superiority. 
 
 Before saying anything about the characteristics of Genius, a distinction should 
 be made between Genius and Talent. Talent is often mistaken for Genius ; yes, 
 men of talent frequently aim to pass themselves off as men of genius. What, 
 then, is the difference ? Genius is a creative power, using this word in a finite 
 sense. Talent, on the other hand, is an imitative power, and inasmuch as men 
 rarely become great by imitating others, men of talent but seldom acquire uni- 
 versal reputation. Genius originates ; it substitutes the new for the old ; hence 
 it is revolutionary, radical and aggressive. Talent merely imitates. Only that 
 which is already in existence can be imitated, hence Talent reproduces and per- 
 petuates the old. Talent must, therefore, be regarded as conservative. Genius 
 makes its own laws ; it boldly oversteps those rules which have hitherto fettered 
 the human mind. Talent, however, follows in the wake of Genius and patiently 
 f ".bmits to those rules which Genius dictates. Talent learns art rules from books, 
 
 9
 
 10 MUSIC AND CULTUKE. 
 
 Genius reads them within himself. "Talent," says a scholar, "is a bird fastened 
 to a string, Genius is the bird unfettered. ' ' Genius dares to do what Talent would 
 be severely criticised for doing. Beethoven was once approached by a young 
 man with the request that he would examine one of the young student's compo- 
 sitions. The master made a few corrections but was soon reminded of the fact 
 that he in a like manner had overstepped the rules. Beethoven smiled and said : 
 " I may do so, but you dare not. ' ' 
 
 Genius is rare, and its scarcity makes it precious. Talent is abundant, and its 
 abundance makes it common. It is the scarcity of the finer metals that gives 
 them their value, and it is the abundance of paper money which depreciates it. 
 Ah 1 men are more or less gifted, hence Talent is not much esteemed, while Genius 
 always has been, and always will be, an object of human admiration. And, 
 while speaking of our admiration for Genius, let me say, that the less we see of 
 men of genius, the greater they appear to us. Thus, it is said, " the king, whom 
 a nation reveres, is but a common mortal in the eyes of his valet, who sees him 
 every day." 
 
 Talent can be brightened to an astonishingly high degree, but Talent can never 
 be converted into Genius, no more than silver can be changed into gold. Talent 
 toils and gains knowledge through labor and study, while Genius sees things as if 
 by intuition, and, says a writer, "it takes in at a glance the true relations 
 between men and things." Yet Genius is not perfect. It often goes to excess, 
 and seeks its ideals in wrong directions. Unbridled, misdirected, Genius leads to 
 deformity and insanity. 
 
 In his relations with the world, the man of genius is objective, that is, he looks 
 out into the world and perceives things as they are he sees what escapes the 
 notice of plainer mortals ; hence, Genius draws pleasures from objects which 
 thousands fail to notice, and, on the other hand, he suffers from causes which 
 would not affect others. The average man, however, is subjective, that is, he 
 merely sees the world as it appears to him he views everything through the lens 
 of his own affections or prejudices. All situations are colored by his own feelings, 
 and he is ever ready to put his own short-sighted interpretation upon his neighbor's 
 actions. Men of genius, therefore, have refused to recognize their fellow-creatures 
 as men ; hence, we learn that Diogenes walked about the streets in broad daylight 
 carrying a lantern, searching for men. Of course, there is a great diversity of 
 talent, and some are far above others in nobility of character, as well as in learning. 
 
 It is an old saying that " the world is a stage, and all the men and women merely 
 players." Says a humorist : " In youth, they usually play 'Romeo and Juliet,' 
 but when farther advanced in years they occasionally perform the ' Tempest. ' ' 
 As a rule, men of genius occupy the auditorium (says a philosopher), looking 
 calmly at the scrambling and fussing of the actors. 
 
 It has been said that the average man views the world through the lens of self, 
 hence, he is generally suspicious ; at least, he is vigilant in his intercourse with 
 others. Yes, the average man is almost always bent upon selfish projects. Half 
 of his life is spent in gaining wealth, and the other half, it is said, is employed in 
 studying how to keep or how to enjoy it. The genius, on the other hand, regards 
 his physical existence as secondary to his mental life. Physical wants are often 
 an annoyance to him. He is generally of very little value in business affairs ; he
 
 GENIUS. 11 
 
 is ignorant of the ways of acquiring wealth, hence, he generally remains poor. 
 Schopenhauer says: "Genius is about as useless in the affairs of life, as a 
 telescope would be hi an opera house. ' ' Originality of thought is the golden path 
 that leads Genius into his kingdom, and, inasmuch as he seeks wisdom wherewith 
 to benefit the human family, it must be said of him that he is the thinker, while 
 the average man is the worker in the human bee-hive. The latter produces 
 material wealth, and, although he aims to produce exclusively for himself, he 
 nevertheless produces for the masses. Thus we see men attend to the affairs of 
 self; but the constant attention to self is apt to make one selfish, and selfishness is 
 always littleness of character. Men of genius, on the other hand, as a rule, are 
 always self-sacrificing ; they are humane ; they live and die for a cause, and 
 herein Genius is always great. The average man can never produce those works 
 of art which Genius produces, no matter how he applies himself, no matter who 
 teaches him. Lacking, as he does, that high degree of sensibility which dis' 
 tinguishes Genius, he fails to receive those impressions which Genius alone can 
 receive ; how, then, can he give expression to the lofty inspirations of the man 
 of genius ? Art and literature are the principal domains in which Genius feels at 
 home ; in them he delights to revel. In art, Genius searches for the beautifui, 
 for art is the bodily representation of the beautiful. All that is beautiful and 
 perfect must be concentrated in the Deity, hence, the artist, in his work, strives 
 to give us a portion of the Infinite, a glimpse of the Deity itself. To lead us to 
 this source of perfection is the high, and the only true, mission of art. 
 
 When Genius conceives of a work of art, he carries it with him in his mind and 
 affections. It has been said, "Genius does not take pencil in hand and say, now 
 I will write a symphony, nor does he prepare colors and say, now I will paint a 
 Madonna," No! something precedes all this! The ideas spring up in the 
 artist's mind as buds spring forth on trees and bushes, and as these gradually 
 develop so the art- work is perfected to a good degree ere the artist begins to write 
 or paint. It may be said that no artist is, in the real sense of the word, a free, 
 voluntary creator, while in another he is. He cannot tell why and how the ideas 
 develop themselves within him. Says a writer, we know not whether we think 
 thoughts ourselves, or whether they are thought within us ; whether we create 
 them, or whether we merely discover them. We feel the power of the mind 
 within us, but cannot describe its operations. Dante said : "I am one of those 
 poets who, if love breathes on them, writes it down, and that just as it was felt 
 by the inner man." 
 
 When the artist has conceived a design for a new work, there is no rest for 
 him until he has carried it out in tones, in colors, in marble, or in words. He 
 models and remodels it, until it conforms to his ideal of the beautiful. If this 
 ideal is low, so will be his art-work ; if it be pure and sublime, the art-work will 
 be pure and great. The production of an art-work is to the artist the greatest 
 pleasure possible, for the privation of which no earthly possession can compensate. 
 This pleasure rewards Genius for the many privations incident to his career. 
 
 When the artist is at work, he often sits still, as if dead to the world without 
 It requires great mental concentration to produce an art-work ; its production has 
 been compared to the shedding of a skin. But if the production of an art-work 
 requires great mental concentration, the same is required of him who aims to re-
 
 12 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 produce it. To enter into the spirit of a piece of music is not an easy task ; the 
 average pupil sinks under the strain ; he cannot endure it long, hence many fail 
 in their appreciation of the masters. Observe how the artist infuses himself into 
 his art-work. He impresses upon it his heart's noblest emotions, he fashions it 
 after his best thought ; therefore, he who studies a work of art comes into close 
 contact with the artist's thoughts and emotions, and their influence will either 
 be for good or for evil, just as the artist's conceptions were good or evil. Many 
 believe that the arts have an influence only so far as they produce pleasurable sensa- 
 tions, but such is not the fact. 
 
 There are many who compose, many who paint or make verses, yet their work 
 is but as brass, when compared with the gold that comes out of the workshop of 
 Genius. But who would discourage the manufacture of brass ? It is a most use- 
 ful article in the world's workshop. So the work of our amateurs and of men of 
 talent is not to be despised in the history of art and literature. While many 
 amateurs use music merely as a plaything, as an accomplishment, or as a means 
 of livelihood, Genius is always unselfish in the use of the arts ; he aims not 
 so much at personal aggrandizement as at the advancement of his fellow crea- 
 tures. The person who seeks self first and alone, in art, is like he who unites 
 with the church for mercenary reasons. He who is unselfish in his art pursuits, 
 is the art disciple. Herein consists the highest aim and position of artists, and 
 it is their only true relation to art. 
 
 The more a people are given to the pursuits of material things, the less will 
 they be able to enter into the spirit of true art. Thousands look at a picture or 
 hear a grand piece of music, but in the language of the Bible, " they have eyes 
 and see not, they have ears and hear not. ' ' As the body develops, so the mind 
 must grow. The taste for the beautiful must be cultivated, else we shall no* 
 enjoy it. The pleasures of the mind alone are enduring, for they come from the 
 Eternal and they lead to the Eternal. He, therefore, whose pleasures consist 
 merely in bodily gratification, is yet near the brute ; he has no abiding place in 
 the temple of art. Genius needs culture. Horace said "that neither diligence 
 without genius, nor genius without education will produce anything thorough. 
 Men of genius must study the works of Genius. However, when the education 
 of Genius is completed, he asserts his own independence, and boldly steps forth 
 into those domains where no human footprints are seen. Talent, on the other 
 hand, continues to walk in the path which has been pointed out to it. The man 
 of talent reads in order to gather knowledge ; Genius reads oftener in order to 
 stimulate his mind. Talent gathers information as water is gathered in cisterns ; 
 the mind of Genius, however, is like a well, it supplies itself. Men of talent 
 Income great scholars, immense storehouses of learning, but men of genius are 
 preeminently thinkers. 
 
 Says Holmes : " 0/ie-story intellects, two-story intellects, three-story intellects. 
 All fact collectors, who have no ami beyond their facts, are one-story men. Two- 
 fctory men compare, reason, generalize, using the labors of the fact collectors as 
 well as their own. Three-story men idealize, imagine, predict ; their best illumi- 
 nations come from above, through the skylight. They are the men of genius. 
 On the sea of thought men of talent are as coast travelers, while the minds 
 of the common people are as skiffs that can safely cross a stream if the water be
 
 GENIUS. 13 
 
 calm. The mind of Genius, however, is as the majestic steamer, which, well 
 equipped with compass and instruments, steers out upon the open sea," 
 
 Genius lives in a world of his own, a world into which the average man never 
 can enter. There are millions that have no idea of its existence, while millions 
 more have but a faint glimmer of it, like that from a far distant luminary. He 
 wanders in gardens full of roses ; he sleeps in bowers strewn with the richest 
 flowers ; he rests on banks covered with the softest moss ; he drinks of the coolest 
 fountains ; the birds sing sweetest to him ; the atmosphere which he breathes is rich 
 and balmy, and he is surrounded by creatures of his own fancy, too lovely to 
 describe. This is the dream-land of Genius, wherein the muses and graces wait 
 upon him and carry him on their hands. Is it, then, a wonder that he loves to 
 roam there ? Alas ! how great is his bewilderment and suffering when he is 
 forced to attend to the affairs of the world ? How great his agony when he feels 
 the rough stones and the stings of the thistles which our hardened feet have long 
 since ceased to regard ? How helpless is Genius when he has to deal with the 
 cunning men of the business world ; how sad to see him enslaved by designing men, 
 who rob him of his honest toil ? Schopenhauer compares genius, under such cir- 
 cumstances, to a vase which is being used for culinary purposes. 
 
 When the troubles of life pursue him, Genius seeks his dream-land, and there 
 he bemoans the realities of his existence, and with his utterances he touches our 
 hearts until the tears begin to flow. On the other hand, when in his dream-land, 
 Genius often forgets the everyday world, with its worriments, and he often bursts 
 out in strains of joy, which shed sunshine into the darkest of lives and the 
 gloomiest of hearts. There is another class of dreamers ; those who build castles 
 in the air, or those who see forms in the clouds above; but such dreamers never 
 realize the pictures of their fancies. Geniuses are dreamers, but not all dreamers 
 are men of genius. 
 
 The man of genius generally concentrates his entire self upon one subject, 
 hence the intensity of his woes or joys. In changing his attention from one sub- 
 ject to another, his hilarity may therefore suddenly be changed into deep sorrow, 
 and vice versa. This explains the changeableness of the moods of men of genius. 
 One moment they are driven to despair, and the next they act like children. 
 Cardinal Richelieu would play leap-frog with the little ones. But, then, read 
 the biographies of our great men, and you will no doubt find many illustrations 
 of this statement. 
 
 It is a well known fact that men of genius are full of eccentricities. Aristotle 
 has said, ' ' that no distinguished genius is free from madness. ' ' Pope says : 
 
 " Great wits to madness 
 Sure are near allied, 
 And thin partitions 
 Do their bounds divide. ' ' 
 
 How often men of genius are denounced as "cranks," while the "cranks" 
 are regarded as wise men. Columbus was called a fool, while Joan D'Arc was 
 considered inspired. 
 
 Men of genius are instruments used by God wherewith to improve mankind. 
 They are always revolutionizes in some departments of the human household.
 
 14 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 The masses, however, do not like to be disturbed in their accustomed mode of 
 doing things, and he who attempts to introduce new ways is denounced as a 
 meddler. Hence the antagonism between men of genius and the masses. 
 
 As capital and labor are needlessly antagonistic, so are the principles of beauti- 
 fying and utilizing the earth. Both ought to cooperate, both are necessary for 
 the world's economy. Business men usually have very little regard for men of 
 genius, because of their apparent uselessness in the affairs of this world. They 
 are often denounced because they produce no material wealth and because they 
 are poor managers at home. But these (dollar and cent) critics overlook the fact, 
 that the works of genius are the wealth of the mind. And surely the mind must 
 also be fed in order that k, may grow. If men of genius do not build railroads, 
 they build those roads which lead to refinement and culture, in a word, to mental 
 progress. 
 
 It is not the bread we eat, nor the clothes we wear, that makes us better nay 
 next to the word of God, it is the truth as revealed in art, in the sciences, in 
 literature, that penetrates men's souls. Hence next to the word of God literature 
 and art are the best civilizers and refiners of men. Genius and art in their purest 
 essence are humanity, and humanity is a large part of religion. How sad, how- 
 ever, when Genius leaves the paths of truth, and produces works that are antago- 
 nistic to pure morality, or when perchance he denies his God. It is, though, 
 more generally the would-be genius that errs in this direction. Bacon said that, 
 "a little philosophy incliueth man's mind to atheism, but depth of philosophy 
 bringeth men's mind about religion." Alas, how often young men attempt to 
 pass themselves off as profound thinkers, by denying their God, or by scoffing at 
 religion. When Genius leaves the paths of truth, his words become a shower of 
 fire, which consumes men's peace and happiness. A certain writer has said that 
 every genius is a child, and every child, in a measure, is a genius. Study the life 
 of Mozart, who was a child until his death, but who was a giant in his ait. Most 
 of our art geniuses were children in many things. 
 
 Genius searches after the truth the truth is a portion of the Eternal Genius 
 embodies the beautiful the beautiful also is the Eternal, for God is the embodi- 
 ment of the beautiful. Again the Eternal is love truth therefore is love the 
 beautiful is love art is love religion is love children are love ; genius, truth, 
 art, religion, children, all are akin, all draw breath from the same source, that 
 divine atmosphere, where love reigns supreme. Art and religion, therefore, are 
 akin, and the true artist should love and revere the source of all that is 
 beautiful. 
 
 The common man views life from a personal standpoint ; it begins and ends with 
 him, except it be in his love for his children, and even herein men are often 
 extremely selfish. It is the aim of the average man to live in comfort and ease. 
 Genius however, so to speak, forgets life's pleasures. Seeing the human family 
 in ignorance, he feels the impulse to bring about reform. Loving his art, he 
 knows no higher delight than to serve it In turning over history's page we 
 learn that those who have carried forward the work of reform were carried on- 
 ward on the wave of con notion, which bids defiance to prisons, scaffolds and fag- 
 gots. It is the divine spark which takes away the fear of man. But what if 
 Genius dies bearing testimony to the truth, let us remember, that though his
 
 GENIUS. 15 
 
 body moulders in the grave his soul inarches on. Men of genius are as beacon- 
 lights in the storms of life, they help the cause of human freedom and progress, 
 and when looking around upon the misery of the human family, let us thank 
 God, that he gave us these lights to help us on our way. There is a constant 
 mental and social evolution taking place. Generation after generation becomes 
 better and wiser. Governments become more liberal, sciences shed more light, 
 the press as well as the pulpit are becoming more powerful, and all this we owe 
 to the influences of great minds that lead us on. 
 
 Genius is never servile. He is the true nobleman of the human family. He 
 is always conscious, more or less, of his powers as well as of his high mission. 
 Hence he demands recognition. This self-consciousness of superiority even 
 manifested itself in one of those unfortunates who had lost his reasoning 
 powers. An insane genius having been asked by a visitor what brought him to 
 the asylum, gravely pointed to his head and said : " What never will bring you 
 here, sir : too much brain, too much brain. ' ' There never lived a genius, but felt 
 that the opinions of the coming generations must conform to his own. While 
 the man of talent sees the faults of his times, he generally utilizes them ; Genius, 
 however, sees what the world will be fifty years hence, and this is the goal toward 
 which he labors. This is the difference between statesmen and politicians the 
 one advances humanity, he lives and dies for his country, he foresees its future ; 
 the other lives only for the present, he aims to advance himself. Genius is 
 always in the advance of his times. He is the lofty mountain peak which first 
 receives the rays of the rising sun, while there is yet darkness in the valley below, 
 where the common people dwell. As the eagle soars high toward the source of 
 light, while the little birds make their nests in hedges near the ground, so genius 
 in the flight of his imagination is above the common people. And as little as 
 our bare eye can count the strokes of the eagle's wings, when it appears only as 
 a mere spot before the clouds, so little can the average man count and compre- 
 hend the beatings of the wild-throbbing heart of the genius. The man of talent 
 usually is appreciated by his contemporaries, because they understand him ; the 
 man of genius, however, will not be generally appreciated until mother earth has 
 received him into her bosom. Inasmuch as he lives for the coming generations, 
 his own has but little sympathy with him, hence men of genius are often allowed 
 to die in neglect and want, while coming generations erect monuments in their 
 honor. Colton says, "the drafts which Genius draws upon posterity, although 
 they may not always be honored as soon as they are due, are sure to be paid with 
 compound interest in the end." Posterity honors them, travelers visit their 
 graves, towns dispute over the honor of calling them their own. Men of genius 
 make cities famous, and guides point out the places where they lived, toiled and 
 died. Henry Giles was correct when he said that the great battle of Lepanto 
 was famous, merely because Cervantes fought in it as a private soldier. Yes, 
 the very chastisement which Genius inflicts upon enemies makes them immortal, 
 unenviable immortality though this be ! Yes, immortality in a sense seems to be 
 inscribed upon everything Genius touches. 
 
 As a social being, Genius is a peculiar mortal. He is generally his own best 
 company. He is never alone, except when surrounded by much fashionable 
 company. He may then, again, be compared with the eagle, who has descended
 
 16 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 from his heavenward flight, and now sits upon a low tree, surrounded by small 
 birds. Though they cannot harm him, their incessant twitter annoys him. 
 Many men of genius were but poor conversationalists. Thus Cicero says that 
 Scipio was never more alone than when alone. Tasso's conversation was neither 
 gay nor brilliant. Dante was either taciturn or satirical. Milton was unsociable. 
 Chaucer's silence was more agreeable than his conversation. Ben. Jonson used 
 to sit silent in company. Of Goldsmith it is said, that he wrote like an angel, 
 but talked like a poor Poll. Longfellow says that " Genius is often dull and inert 
 in society, as a blazing meteor when it descends to the earth is only a stone." 
 Schopenhauer remarks, " that a genius among common people is like one who 
 enters the ball-room for the purpose of dancing but finds only lame people there. " 
 It has been asserted that silence and constant seriousness are unmistakable char- 
 acteristics of genius, in short, that a laughing person cannot be a genius. This I 
 consider false. Human life presents much that is comic and ludicrous, and, as 
 Genius is a close observer, it is not reasonable to expect him to be serious under 
 all circumstances. And no one dare say that men of genius do not laugh ; the 
 fact is merely that in promiscuous company they are unsocial. Among their 
 equals they are generally found to be good laughers and talkers. "God gave 
 the power of laughing to man alone," says a writer. The animal that lacks 
 sensibility never laughs. ' ' The gravest creature to look at, ' ' says Kellgreene, 
 " is an ox," yet no one would claim that the gravity of an ox indicates learning. 
 Silence is often used as a mask to cover stupidity, yet such owls are often credited 
 with much learning. 
 
 In his habits, Genius is generally disorderly, for he is too much occupied with 
 the operations of his mind to pay attention to the condition of things around him. 
 The older Dumas used to tell his son that he would never become a great man, 
 and assigned as his reason the son's orderly habits. Said he, derisively, "he has 
 twelve pairs of boots, and they stand side by side in his bed-room, as straight as 
 if they were being drilled." I would, however, not have you understand me to 
 say that a lack of the sense of order is an infallible sign of genius. While there 
 is an apparent disorder in the dress and household affairs of men of genius, there 
 is strict order in their mental activity. 
 
 I will whisper in your ears, ladies, that men of genius do not always prove to 
 be good husbands they are often neglectful of those gallant little attentions to 
 their wives which distinguish good husbands. Being poor managers, their wives 
 are generally forced to assume the reins, and for this reason they are often called 
 shrews. While many men of genius have written sensible articles about women 
 and married life ; while they have laid down good sensible rules for selecting a 
 wife, they have not infrequently missed the mark, and married regular viragos. 
 Many instances of unfortunate marriages might be cited, from Socrates down to 
 Shakespeare, Milton, Byron, Haydn, Dickens and others, but this subject had 
 better be dropped. 
 
 Men of genius usually are very absent-minded, and it is natural that they should 
 be, for they are more or less always absorbed in thought. Many amusing stories 
 may be told to prove this. 
 
 It is true, as has been said, that there never was a philosopher who could 
 endure the toothache patiently. Men of genius are bundles of nerves, and for
 
 GENIUS. 17 
 
 this reason they shrink from pain. When suffering awaits them, they seem to 
 be unable to reason themselves into a brave endurance of the same. Thus Peele 
 is believed to have died because he was unable to bear an operation which a less 
 sensitive man might readily have endured. Yet, while we must record a 
 Demosthenes who deserted his colors, and excused himself by saying that "He 
 who turns and runs away may live to fight another day," we might also give 
 many instances of heroic bravery exhibited by men of genius. 
 
 The sensitiveness of men of genius, especially of musicians, is proverbial 
 Artists, actors, orators, painters, poets, are almost morbidly sensitive to public 
 criticism. Approbation is of more value to them than money, for if they fail in 
 their mental efforts they fail in everything ; hence, they are often troubled with 
 fear when stepping before the public. Thus, it is said of Cicero that he had a 
 bad night before his great speech at Murena. Plutarch says that Cicero not only 
 lacked courage in arms, but also in his efforts at speaking. He began timidly, in 
 many cases never ceasing to tremble, even when he came thoroughly into the 
 current of his speeches. But then there are many guilty of the same weakness, 
 whom no one would suspect of genius. It may well be said that many artists and 
 authors suffered death, almost, because of unjust criticism. Schiller said that no 
 genius comes to a good end, by which he means that men of great mental gifts 
 usually suffer much. Was not Homer a beggar, and Torrence a slave ? Was not 
 Tasso poor, and did not Cervantes die of hunger ? Bacon led a life of distress ; 
 Spencer died in want, and Mozart had not enough to prevent his being buried in 
 a pauper's grave. Yes, often the grim messenger of death takes away our great 
 men early, for it is said that he loves a shining mark. 
 
 It is a common belief that Genuis works best in youth. A distinguished 
 physician says that the period from thirty to forty is the golden period for brain- 
 labor, while that from forty to sixty he calls the silver period. There are, how- 
 ever, many instances on record, where great works were accomplished by men of 
 advanced years. While Mozart, Raphael, Schubert and others produced their 
 great works in youth, while some of the world's great generals had built up and 
 destroyed empires before they were much advanced in years, we must not lose 
 sight of the fact that Homer produced his best works in old age ; Xenophon 
 wrote when ninety-two years old ; jEschylus wrote his greatest works three years 
 before his death, when he was sixty-six years of age ; Sophocles wrote his 
 "(Edipus" in his ninety-sixth year; Phidias produced great works in his 
 seventy-sixth year; Michael Angelo painted his celebrated "Judgment" be- 
 tween his sixtieth and sixty-seventh years; Gluck wrote his "Iphegenia" in 
 his sixty -fifth year; Haydn wrote the "Creation" in his sixty-third, and 
 Goethe produced his " Faust " in the fifty-seventh year of his life. But these 
 are illustrations enough. 
 
 Artists must picture and express passions, and in order to do this effectively 
 they must have felt those passions. Thus it happens often that their nervous 
 systems suffer, and in order to build up the wasting powers, they will resort to 
 stimulating drink. I do not believe, however, in the theory advanced by some, 
 that men work best under the influence of strong drink. There may be those 
 who are so accustomed to the use of wine, that their minds cannot work 
 without the aid of stimulants, a condition in which our celebrated Webster is said 
 2
 
 18 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 to have been. Let me say most emphatically that if drunkards rise to emi- 
 nence, they do so in spite of their habits, not because of them. It is an error to 
 teach that the moral law is not as binding upon great men, as it is upon lesser 
 mortals. 
 
 As heavenly bodies have their satellites, so men of genius have theirs. These 
 hang on the outskirts of intellectual circles, and being unable to enter their 
 magic bounds, they imitate those within, and as a rule they imitate their vices 
 first. Let us cover the frailties of our great men with the mantle of charity, 
 remembering, that the greater the power of perception of wrong, the greater 
 also is its sting. 
 
 Those whom we admire we also imagine as perfect in form. Men of genius, 
 however, often were insignificant in their appearance, yes, many were deformed, 
 or suffered from maladies. Milton, Homer, Bach and Handel were blind, Beet- 
 hoven was deaf, Weber and Byron both suffered from physical deformities. 
 These sufferers were often extremely sensitive about their ailings, yet when 
 touched by the warmth of humor they sometimes made fun of each other's 
 weaknesses. Talleyrand was lame, Madame de Stael was cross-eyed. Said the 
 latter, on one occasion, ' ' Monsieur, how is that poor leg of yours, ' ' to which the 
 statesman sarcastically replied : ' ' Crooked as you see it. ' ' Who can imagine a 
 Hannibal, an Alexander, an Achilles or a Hector as small, yet many geniuses 
 were very frail in form. Voltaire was puny, Pope was small, Tom Moore was 
 likewise, Milton was only of moderate size, Napoleon was not commanding in 
 person, Wagner did not reach much over five feet. 
 
 While the mind of Genius is quick to work, it often needs peculiar surround- 
 ings, in order that it may become active. Spontini the composer preferred to 
 work in a dark room ; Cimoraso preferred noise around him, when he wrote ; 
 Haydn always put on the ring Frederick the Great gave him, before he went to 
 his desk, and when his ideas ceased to flow, he resorted to his rosary. Mozart 
 wrote down many ideas while playing billiards. Beethoven communed much 
 with nature ; he moved frequently, believing at one time that he could write best 
 on the north side of the street, and then preferring the south side. Mendelssohn, 
 the refined, stimulated his mind by walking in gardens, as if he gathered his 
 ideas from flowers. It is said of Halevy that he was partial to the sound of 
 boiling water. Verdi reads Ossian's poems and then writes, while Wagner 
 dressed himself in the costumes of the characters of which he was writing. But 
 enough. 
 
 Kant, the great German philosopher, said that just as the powers of genius 
 display themselves differently in individuals, so they differ among nations. Thus 
 the Germans strike the root, Italians, the crown of the tree, the Frenchman the 
 blossom and the Englishman the fruit. The greater the degree of culture of a 
 people, the greater also is the number of geniuses which that people produces ; 
 the greater however the love for financial and mercantile speculation, the smaller 
 will be the number of geniuses. 
 
 Some men of genius have been great in more than one art or science. Thus, 
 Michael Angelo was a painter, an architect, and a musician. It was he who 
 made those beautiful bronze doors, of which it is said, that they are grand enough 
 to be the gates of Heaven. By the side of him stands Leonard! Da Vinci, the
 
 GENIUS. 19 
 
 architect, the sculptor, the painter, the musician, the poet, the scientist, and the 
 mathematician. Such geniuses, however, are, among the world's gifted men, 
 what the Kohinoor is among diamonds. 
 
 It has been asserted that the powers of genius are the product of circumstances ; 
 others claim that they are the product of education. There would not be a 
 Napoleon in history if the French Revolution had not broken out. What would 
 our Grant, and Sherman, and Lincoln have been without the civil war? Let 
 us, however, bear in mind, that men are made for occasions, not occasions for 
 men. When great works are to be done, God also provides the men to do 
 them. Yet there are many instances on record, where men assumed their God- 
 appointed duties with hesitating steps and fainting hearts. Schopenhauer says 
 that Genius comes at irregular times, and follows his own course, like a comet, 
 yet he always comes when needed, and he always finds the path of his career 
 unobstructed. Henry Giles says that Genius is always born in the right age of 
 history, the proper spot on earth waits for him and receives him. For all, it is 
 at least reasonable to believe, that throughout history many great minds failed 
 to shine, just as there are many diamonds which have not yet been found, and 
 never will come to light. 
 
 But is genius the product of education ? Geniuses are as rare as are the high 
 peaks in mountainous countries ; there are few of them. It is the secret desire of 
 all men, more or less, to have their names inscribed on history's page. If genius, 
 then, is attainable by education, why have so few secured the coveted prize? If 
 genius can be produced by education, then education has indeed failed most 
 effectually. " Good will and earnest determination are of great aid in matters of 
 morals, and in study," says a philosopher, but in art pursuits, the will itself is 
 helpless. When speaking of the lives of our intellectual princes, they are 
 described to us as having been thoughtless, lazy boys, who regarded but little 
 their teachers' instructions. They had, however, a capacity for work, and if they 
 failed to apply themselves, the fault usually lay with the teacher and his system, 
 and not with the boy and his powers. The fact that these boys became men of 
 fame has produced the impression that Genius does not work, that he need not 
 labor like other men. This is a false notion. Men of genius always were hard 
 workers ; they are not only profound thinkers, but quite frequently they are 
 excellent scholars ; they are, as a rule, hard students but after their own methods 
 and with their own purposes. When old enough, they defy the yoke of tutelage 
 and walk out boldly into paths of their own. Who would assert that a Shake- 
 speare, a Milton, a Raphael, a Michael Angelo, a Dante, a Goethe, a Schiller, a 
 Beethoven, a Mozart, a Luther, a Napoleon, a Bismarck, a Franklin, a Webster, 
 a Clay, and many others, were made in the school-room what they finally proved 
 to be. From whom did these men obtain their superior powers ? Where did 
 they light the torches which have burned throughout centuries ? They were 
 illuminated by the spark divine which comes only from the fire divine. Genius 
 is a gift which is laid by the side of the little babe, and whosoever has not re- 
 ceived it at his birth, need never expect to receive it in later years, no matter 
 how superior his educational advantages may be. Genius is a gift, education 
 and learning are acquirements, and it will be easily proven that the inborn 
 qualities are stronger than those that are acquired.
 
 20 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 Swift says : "When a genius appears, you may know him by this sign, that 
 generally the dunces are in a confederacy against him." "If you have the 
 power of genius," says Jean Jacques Rousseau, ''you will know genius ; if you 
 have it not, you will never know it. Does a grand piece of music cause the tears 
 to flow ? Does it cause your nerves to vibrate ? If so, you have a spark of 
 genius; but," adds the philosopher, "if you remain cold, do not even inquire 
 about the workings of genius. ' ' Be careful, however, that you are not deceived 
 by the false article. There were false prophets, and there are false geniuses. 
 Such men, of course, must assume and imitate the eccentricities of genius in 
 order to appear like it ; for the power of thought and the flight of imagination 
 of men of genius no one can assume or imitate. The donkey may put on the 
 lion's skin, yet when he opens his mouth we all will know him to be a donkey. 
 A great Grecian philosopher, who was remarkable for the negligence of his dress, 
 met a young seeker of fame with a robe full of holes. The philosopher stepped 
 up to huii and reprovingly said : "Friend, out of the holes of your cloak looks 
 your vanity." Be not deceived by the holes in men's clothes ; do not judge by 
 outward signs. As iron is drawn toward the magnet, so will you feel the power 
 of Genius when you come in contact with it, be it through his works or through 
 personal intercourse. Says Bulwer : " Fine natures are like fine poems ; a glance 
 at the first two lines suffices for a guess into the beauty that waits for you, if you 
 read on." 
 
 An old legend says, that while the gods were distributing the possessions of 
 this earth, giving to the king the throne, to the merchant the seas, to the soldier 
 the weapons, to the priests the temple, to the hunter the woods, to the farmer 
 the soil, etc. , Genius was out wandering, dreaming, and feasting his eyes on the 
 beauties of nature. When at last he came in, everything had been given away, 
 and there was nothing left for him. But the gods took pity on him, and in order 
 to compensate him for his losses, they bade him welcome upon Parnassus Hill, 
 whenever he desired to come, and gave him the freedom to go in and out among 
 the gods. 
 
 The light of genius is given to but few, so that it may shine all the brighter on 
 the road of human progress. According to physicians, talent is often inherited, 
 but genius is rarely ever transmitted to posterity. It is a gift, not an inheritance. 
 Men may be their fathers' sons, or their sons' fathers, but seldom are father and 
 son alike famous. If genius is a gift, has not the giver the right to bestow it 
 upon whomsoever he chooses ? And thus we find that the poor lad Burns has 
 the gift bestowed upon him, by the side of the sons of kings and lords. Genius 
 is, by birth, the true nobleman of the human family. Neither cross nor stars can 
 increase his dignity. Putting a ribbon or an order on his breast is as ridiculous 
 as it would be to daub colors on the face of a statue, or to hang a cloak on a finely 
 cut piece of marble. Being thus highy favored, his powers for good or evil are 
 so much the greater, and so likewise is his responsibility. 
 
 Though we may not be geniuses we are nevertheless the fellow-beings of these 
 great men, and this thought should inspire us. Let us study their lives and 
 their works, for by communing with them, we become more and more like unto 
 them. Who can sum up all the good that has been done throughout the world 
 and throughout all ages, by the works of men of genius, by art and literature ?
 
 GENIUS. 21 
 
 When viewing the highest mountains of the earth or when diving down into 
 the lowest mines, when exploring the ice-bound regions of the North Pole, or 
 when wandering through the woods and along the immense rivers of the hot zones 
 with their variety of scenery and wild animals, when measuring the Falls of 
 Niagara, or when viewing Vesuvius in convulsive action, one may well cry out in 
 the Bible language, "Great and marvelous are Thy works, oh Lord God 
 Almighty. ' ' But there is something far greater than these wonders of nature, 
 and that is the mind of man. Though electricity travels quickly, there is some- 
 thing that travels more rapidly, and that is human thought. How sad it is that 
 while men climb the highest mountains, while they dive into seas and rivers, while 
 they spend years in the ice-bound regions of the North, or waste away under the 
 tropic sun of the South, and all this for the sake of scientific investigation, they 
 do so little to fathom their own hearts or to study their own minds. Truly did 
 Pope say : ' ' Know Thyself; the proper study for mankind is man. ' ' Though the 
 mountains and the seas are great, the one shall tumble in, and the other shall 
 dry up, but your souls and mine shall live forever. Oh blessed immortality, in 
 which we shall be near the great geniuses that ever lived on earth, when we 
 shall comprehend the mysterious connection between mind and matter, when we 
 shall forever be near the source of love and light, and all that is good and beauti- 
 ful, when we shall be near the great Genius above, whose works here are so 
 grand in their perfection. Are there any who seek an additional evidence of the 
 existence of a God ? Let Genius, let the mind of man be this evidence, for God 
 did not manifest himself half so well in the greatest mountains or the mightiest 
 seas of the globe, as he manifested himself in the creation of the genius of man.
 
 SUCCESS IN PROFESSIONAL LIFE. 
 
 An Address delivered before the Graduating Class of the Medical Department of Wooster 
 University, Cleveland, Ohio. 
 
 My ignorance of your most noble science forestalls all attempts on my part to 
 say anything in connection with it that might prove of benefit to you. I might 
 have endeavored to interest you in the health influences of music, its effects upon 
 the nervous system, upon our emotions and through them upon our thoughts, 
 but I preferred not to undertake this subject, interesting as it is, because I have 
 but recently published some articles with reference to it. Neither would it be 
 appropriate to speak here of the beauties and growth of the art which I have 
 studied and taught for many years. There is, however, one subject, which is, or 
 which at least ought to be of mutual interest, namely, that of a successful prof es- 
 sional life. My address, therefore, shall simply express some practical advice 
 to you, how to live and how to act in life, and I hope that what I say will not 
 be spoken altogether in vain. You are about to take one of the most serious 
 steps in your lives. The first half, that of preparation, has at last come to an 
 end, and you are now ready to enter the busy world, for better or for worse ; 
 let us sincerely hope for the former. Life is a most serious reality, so is your 
 profession one of seriousness, and necessarily my remarks must partake of the 
 same character. 
 
 It is the aim and ambition of every thinking man to make life a success, that 
 is, to make it useful and pleasant. Many men have spent useful lives, but they 
 were far from being pleasant, and so one finds men everywhere who endeavor to 
 spend their lives pleasantly without making them useful. The former class chal- 
 lenges our respect, the latter deserves our pity. There is no happiness in life 
 without usefulness, and this is the one cardinal truth I wish you always to keep 
 before your minds. I take it for granted that you mean to be useful, for your 
 profession points to a life of usefulness of the noblest kind ; but look to your 
 right and left, and see the many lawyers, doctors, preachers and teachers who 
 have started out in life with honest intentions and with the brightest of pros- 
 pects for usefulness, but who finally failed in life's work. How many are there 
 whose professional lives are unpleasant to themselves as well as to those with 
 whom they come in contact ? This is often owing to wrong ideas of life, to a 
 lack of knowledge of human nature. Having started wrong, having, perhaps, 
 had no friend to warn or to guide them, they went on and on, until they became 
 pessimists, leading lives of bitterness and torment. How much good might such 
 men have accomplished had they known how to safely steer their youthful crafts 
 
 22
 
 SUCCESS IN PROFESSIONAL LIFE. 23 
 
 while passing through the breakers near the shore. But by some neglect or mis- 
 take on the part of teachers, parents or themselves, they sprung a leak some- 
 where, and after having once passed out upon the high seas, it was impossible to 
 return or to repair the damage. Says a writer, our sins will be punished in the 
 world to come, but for the acts of our own stupidity, for our lack of judgment, 
 for many errors of teachers and parents, we must pay the penalty here on earth. 
 Close observation is necessary for correct judgment, and he who would be happy 
 in life, as far as mortal man may be happy, must be a close observer of men and 
 situations. The reason men bump their heads and stub their toes, is because 
 they fail to look where they step, because they fail to see what is before them. 
 
 You will have to deal with men and women of all grades and classes, you will 
 meet them in their worst moods and conditions, and it behooves you, more than 
 men of other professions, to study human character. Would you be masters of 
 the situation, you must know those with whom you have dealings ; more than 
 that, you must thoroughly know yourselves. Weigh and scrutinize carefully 
 men's characters, study their mental and moral make-up, as well as their bodily 
 condition, for thus only will you become successful physicians. 
 
 "This world is a mirror," says Lichtenstein ; " if a donkey looks into it, you 
 cannot expect to see the face of an apostle or that of a physician looking out of 
 it." This world will be to you exactly as you see it, as you meet it and fashion 
 it. If your views are correct you will be able to steer clear of much trouble, 
 thereby putting you on the vantage ground in making life useful. The avoid- 
 ance of trouble is a species of happiness ; it is a sort of negative happiness that 
 may be made to spread over a greater portion of our lives than the actual enjoy- 
 ment of social pleasures and creature comforts will reach. If your views of h'fe 
 are false, trouble is sure to ring your office bell at all hours, day and night. 
 Talk not to me of luck, good or bad. That which some men bemoan as bad luck 
 is simply bad management a lack of good sound sense and tact. Each of you 
 has it in his power to make life useful and happy, provided you understand life 
 and its issues and have the will to do your full duty. Many men with diplomas 
 and high-class grades have had to succumb to men of lesser ability and lower 
 standing simply because they lacked worldly wisdom. He who lacks this precious 
 gift is helpless, in spite of friends and wealth. 
 
 It is of the utmost importance that you start right, for if you take the wrong 
 track, you will find it a difficult task in later years to switch off. Doubtless, 
 during the first few weeks or months of your medical career, you will have plenty 
 of time for self-study ; but be assured of this fact, that whether you have work 
 to do, or whether you are simply waiting to be called out, the world-lessons will 
 begin at once and continue until some other doctor will say of you : "He is dead ; 
 bury him out of sight." 
 
 You must possess very superior powers if you expect to impregnate the 
 world with one new idea. In other words, if you aspire to give the world new 
 lessons. You must be made of rare stuff if you would instruct your profes- 
 sional brethren and lead them onward. Rather be prepared to be led and to 
 submit to many conditions which in your judgment are wrong. The world is a 
 hard pupil, and so is it a hard teacher. It knocks ideas into men's heads if they 
 are taken willingly, and it causes us to suffer if we stubbornly hold fast to
 
 24 SUCCESS IN PROFESSIONAL LIFE. 
 
 false principles and notions. I would not, however, have you understand me to 
 say that you should conform to the world in all things. It is not safe, nor is it 
 always right, to be on the popular side. It is, however, prudent and wise at all 
 tunes to be moderate in speech. Bear in mind that you are not called upon on 
 all occasions to correct what you think is wrong in this world of ours. Would 
 you meet with tolerant treatment, be tolerant to others. But if you feel it to be 
 your duty to contradict public opinion, if you feel called upon to gainsay and to 
 expose error, let me beseech you to examine well the timber of your platform ; 
 next, see to it that you stand solidly upon it, keep your temper, and if you finally 
 must lock horns with public opinion, do so with earnestness. My experience, 
 however, is, that it is best to keep out of public disputations, for he that is over- 
 come by your argument rarely ever forgives you for having defeated him, while 
 if you yourself ai'e defeated, you are apt to experience a great deal of useless 
 irritation. Unless truth or a great principle is at stake, meddle not with loud- 
 mouthed talkers ; let them alone. Strive to know your powers well, so that you 
 may not overrate them in any contest. Never undertake that which is beyond 
 them, but use eveiy means to strengthen, to increase your powers, and in a silent 
 way to deepen and widen your influence. 
 
 The man that is not honest to himself cannot be honest to others. This is an 
 old saying. Of course, you are honest to others and to yourselves, and in this 
 light of honesty I desire to ask you now, What is your aim in practicing medi- 
 cine? If you aim, in the main, at wealth, you are on the wrong road, and you had 
 better turn off at once. But if you desire to aid mankind, if you see before your- 
 selves a world in suffering, and aim to help it through your professional skill, if 
 you desire to improve the condition of the human family as far as lies within 
 your professional power, then, indeed, are you to be congratulated, for you are 
 the right men in the right places, and I bid you God-speed, for this track is safe 
 and clear to the end of the road. Of course, you must live, you must earn money, 
 and no one says you should not, but this I do say, that the man who lives 
 and labors for money exclusively, who sees his sole reward in earthly gains, is, so 
 far as I can judge, not worthy of the name of a healer or a physician. 
 
 Be men of honor and integrity, of soberness and moderation in all things. 
 Guard your personal and professional good names with jealous care, for hence- 
 forth you cannot separate the two. The physician whose good name is even 
 tainted, cannot expect to be called into respectable homes, either on professional 
 or social grounds. Were I a physician, nothing would sting and wound my pride 
 quicker than to feel that while, as a physician, I am sought, as a man I am only 
 tolerated or even detested. First see to character, for without it neither wealth 
 nor reputation will give you any comfort. Doubtless, in time you will be con- 
 fronted by many temptations, but bear in mind that yielding to wrong is like put- 
 ting chains around you ; it is like hanging a millstone around your neck. You 
 may carry it for a while, but the load is sure to sink you in the end. Let me 
 beg of you to keep your consciences clean, for Shakespeare said that conscience 
 makes cowards of us, or something to that effect. No doubt many secrets, profes- 
 sional and domestic, will be revealed to you. Keep these sacredly within your 
 breasts, like men of honor and sterling integrity. The talking doctor is in con- 
 stant danger of being led into trouble by inquisitive people. Parade not your
 
 SUCCESS IN PROFESSIONAL LIFE. 25 
 
 cases nor your cures before the public ; let others speak well of you. Rather 
 say too little, for fear you might say too much. It is still better to say nothing, 
 for if you have not as yet learned the disposition of society gossips, you will dis- 
 cover to your own sorrow that they are not great lovers of truth. Each, desiring 
 to make the news more effective and startling, will add something to it, until 
 truth has become a hideous lie. 
 
 Talent is a gift which all of us possess, genius is bestowed upon but few. It is 
 gratifying to rise and have one's name mentioned honorably, but for all it must 
 be regarded as a truism, that a day well spent is better than years of honorable 
 distinction. Honors alone make no man happy. It is pleasant enough to have 
 enough of this world's goods to be relieved of the uncertainties of life, but 
 wealth alone makes no man happy. Only that which a man is, says a philosopher, 
 makes him truly happy, not what he has. It is better you should be worthy of 
 honors, and not have them meted out to you, than to secure them upon false 
 grounds. Neither honors nor wealth will make you truly useful, but character 
 and sound learning are great powers in themselves, they are the true levers of 
 usefulness. Not what the world says of you constitutes true greatness, but what 
 you are in the sight of God. The consciousness of true inward merit makes any 
 man strong, deception makes him weak. 
 
 Soberness and frugality also are necessary for your success. A physician 
 should be a sober-minded man, he should be a model man. Would you trust a 
 druggist given to drunken spells with the filling of an important prescription? 
 If not, how can you expect the public to trust a physician guilty of such wrongs? 
 Machinists, engineers, even common laborers, are discharged if found guilty of 
 drunkenness. What right has a physician to indulge in this vice when we entrust 
 him with health and life, our two greatest earthly possessions ? Be it far from 
 me to suspect you of evil habits ; my object is simply to warn you in time, so 
 that you may start out on the right track, for it is a tremendous task for an 
 habitual drunkard to switch off from the road that leads to destruction. Be te^n- 
 perate in all things ; in working and seeking pleasures, in eating as well as in 
 speaking. Trust not too much to your powers of endurance ; keep an eye on 
 your own health. A poor, but a healthy doctor is a happier man than a sick king. 
 A healthy doctor is an inspiring spectacle ; a sick doctor is a doubly distressing 
 object to behold. Be also temperate in your desire for wealth. Property is 
 desirable, as has been already stated ; on the other hand, its possession entails 
 much care, and the desire to become rich may become as strong a passion as is the 
 desire for intoxicating drink. Beware of it. Every thinking man considers it his 
 duty to lay enough aside during the years of activity to support himself in old 
 age. Your knowledge and skill is as a bond from which you cut away every 
 year so many coupons. But remember that there comes a time when there are 
 no more coupons for you to cut away. It is a national failing of ours to trust 
 the young, and to shove aside the aged, denouncing them as " old fogies." In 
 Europe, aged physicians are sought first, because of their great experience and 
 superior skill. In America, we often prefer to trust the young and inexperi- 
 enced, believing them to have newer ideas and perhaps clearer heads. A greater 
 mistake never was made. You may derive advantages from this error, but remem- 
 ber that you are also sure to suffer from it in the long run. Be saving then.
 
 26 SUCCESS IN PROFESSIONAL LIFE. 
 
 Beware, however, of that second American vice, that of striving to accumulate 
 fortune quickly, regardless of the means used. To acquire wealth is not your 
 mission; your aim should be higher, for by the side of the minister of the 
 gospel, who aims to cure men's souls, and by the side of the teacher, who strives 
 to dispel ignorance and error, your calling is one of the noblest, for you are called 
 upon to cure those ills that make men miserable and prevent them from being 
 useful and happy. Only a useful professional life will make you happy. 
 
 Many men fail in life because of a lack of politeness and cheerfulness. It is 
 your duty to be polite, but true politeness cannot be put on or off at pleasure ; it 
 must be a part of our natures in order that it may pass for the genuine article. 
 Said a philosopher, " politeness is a coin of no intrinsic value ; " how foolish then 
 to be stingy with it. Yet there are men so proud and close-fisted that they cannot 
 afford to be polite to others, for fear they bestow more than they receive. 
 Politeness is a grace that recommends us in the "eyes of others; it puts people 
 mutually at their ease. Cultivate it then, and exercise it toward all, even 
 toward those who belong to a different medical school. It is wisdom to be polite, 
 for many a physician has lost patronage because of a lack of civility. With 
 politeness cultivate cheerfulness. A cheerful doctor is as a ray of sunlight in 
 a gloomy room. No one likes the grumbling, growling doctor about the house, 
 if, indeed, it can be said at any time we really like to see a doctor enter our 
 homes. Cheerfulness betokens a contented, calm frame of mind ; it indicates 
 inward repose, which begets confidence and restfulness in your patient, while the 
 fretful, nervous doctor produces exactly the opposite effects. Physicians need to 
 cultivate much cheerfulness, for they see much of the misery of life, and despite 
 their best efforts to alleviate it, unjust criticism is sure to be meted out to them. 
 Cheerfulness and health go hand in hand ; a cheerful doctor, therefore, means a 
 healthy doctor. A growling, ill-natured doctor is sick somewhere, and one feels 
 like saying to him, first cure yourself before you attempt to cure others. 
 
 A cheerful sick room is as essential as a clean and well-ventilated sick room. 
 Cheer brightens things. I believe in seriousness and earnestness, but I have often 
 observed that sick rooms are made unnecessarily gloomy by alluding to the 
 uncertainty of life and the certainty of death. Be watchful in this particular, 
 else your medicine as well as your own cheerfulness is sure to be counteracted. 
 Probably the hours a young physician spends during the first months of his pro- 
 fessional career will be lonely and trying in the extreme, and there is danger that 
 disappointment and gloom may make a permanent impression upon his character. 
 Keep bright ; be hopeful, and remember that all beginning is difficult. Remem- 
 ber that others have traveled the same road before you and succeeded. 
 
 There is another enemy calculated to destroy cheerfulness, and this is too great 
 sensitiveness. Take no bad meaning out of every incidental expression and apply 
 it to yourselves. If you do, you will be constantly in hot water. A noble-hearted 
 minister, while speaking on the subject of sensitiveness, told the following incident : 
 He had unexpectedly been called away, and for this reason could not prepare a ser- 
 mon for Sunday morning. He selected, therefore, an old one which he had preached 
 some three years previously, hoping that no one would remember it. His con- 
 science, however, smote him, and after the services were over he remained in the 
 pulpit for fear some one would speak to him about the old sermon. At the door,
 
 SUCCESS IN PROFESSIONAL LIFE. 27 
 
 however, stood the choir-leader, who was evidently waiting to see his pastor, and 
 as there was no escape, he arose and came to the door. Seeing an expression of dis- 
 satisfaction in the musician's face, he asked for the cause. " I might as well have 
 stayed at home to-day," was the quick reply. This went to the minister's heart 
 like an arrow, and he quickly sought his home. He could not eat, neither would 
 slumber come to his eyes. The choir-leader's words were ringing in his ears like 
 a sentence from the bench. At last he made up his mind to see the musician, 
 and while in a store next day he met him. "What did you mean by that ex- 
 pression yesterday? " asked the preacher. " Why, did you not notice," said the 
 offended musician, "how poorly the choir sang?" A breath of relief escaped 
 the minister's lips, and he made up his mind to two things : first, not to preach 
 an old sermon again ; second, not to be too sensitive and suspicious. 
 
 Said a city physician : " More than once I felt miserable because I saw another 
 physician's carriage before the house of a family who used to call upon me. At 
 last I found out that he called next door, but had tied his horse before my 
 patron's house because there was a good hitching post." How many useless sor- 
 rows we suffer because we are too sensitive, because we come too quickly to con- 
 clusions ! Do not take trouble at interest ; jump not hastily at conclusions. Be 
 faithful in the discharge of duty, and let the rest take care of itself. Public 
 opinion is not always correct, but you may put it down as a rule that no man can 
 afford to defy it. Set not your happiness upon it, else you will be tossed about 
 like a chip in an eddy. If you are the right kind of men, you need not feel the 
 public pulse eveiy week or every day in order to find out whether its beatings are 
 favorable to you or not. I am by no means a pessimist, but I make free to say, 
 that this world indulges much in selfishness, in slander, and deceitfulness, and 
 that a great deal of narrow-minded prejudice prevails in all strata of society. Add 
 to this an immense amount of ignorance prevailing as yet, like cobwebs in an old 
 building, and you will get a correct estimate of public opinion and public criticism. 
 The public tongue is like a wasp : it delights to sting because it is its nature to do 
 so. Whatever you do, let not the sting raise a blister, for in the public eye this 
 betokens a bad condition of blood, and is regarded as a sure indication of guilt. 
 Keep calm, hold your own tongues when the public tongue wags, but if you must 
 speak, be first sure that you use the right words. 
 
 A conceited man is a harmless sort of a creature. He hurts no one. Like a 
 little balloon, he bobs up and down, inflicting no injury whatsoever, no matter 
 how hard he hits us. All conceited people are cordially disliked, because conceit 
 presupposes ignorance on our part. To try to make us believe that you measure 
 six feet when we know that you measure but five and a half, is provokingly im- 
 pudent. To step on the scales with pockets full of stones, says Schopenhauer, 
 and then ask us to believe that you weigh heavy, puts us in the light of igno- 
 rance, as if we were too stupid to see your own cunning. Be assured, young gen- 
 tlemen, your brain must be filled with something. If there is no solid learning, 
 there is usually air to fill the empty space. What a blessing it is that hollow heads 
 do not pain us as hollow teeth ? If it were not so we would see a great deal of 
 suffering. It is the world's disposition to ridicule the conceited man, and while 
 it is not generous to do so, many delight in putting a pin into the air-pillow on 
 which the conceited one rests so contentedly. This operation is usually painful,
 
 28 SUCCESS IN PROFESSIONAL LIFE. 
 
 nor is there any medicine to be found that will relieve such suffering. Leave all 
 conceits, if you have any, right here, and if you are free from them guard against 
 this folly with an ever-watchful eye. Always endeavor to see yourselves as 
 others see you, and this again means self-examination, which has been com- 
 mended to you at the very outset of my remarks. 
 
 Many people seek their happiness in social pleasures. Allow me to repeat a 
 lesson already given you, namely, that there is greater happiness found in the art 
 of avoiding trouble. This was one of Aristotle's lessons, and if he was a heathen 
 he was a wise man. Pleasures are often mere mirages, at best they give no satis- 
 faction, for after they have been enjoyed, there arises a desire for other and still 
 greater gratification. Not all our desires can be fulfilled, and the disappointment 
 arising from this is apt to produce discontent. He who asks the least of h'fe but 
 gives most to it, he is the happiest man. All real social and bodily pleasures 
 fill but a very limited period of our lives, while the pleasures arising from a 
 quiet life, free from troubles, may be enjoyed every hour and day. The art of 
 avoiding trouble, therefore, is a pleasure-giving faculty, and I ask you earnestly 
 to seek more of this negative joy than that which may be called positive. Trou- 
 bles must and will come to you, as they have come to us of riper years. You 
 cannot escape them, for this is a part of the philosophy and economy of this 
 world. Your and my Saviour was a man of sorrow and of grief, and we all must 
 follow in His footsteps, willingly or unwillingly. Maybe you imagine that you 
 have already tasted much of life's cares. Perhaps you have, but in the course of 
 years you will discover the fact that up to this period you were merely playing 
 soldier. Perhaps you have had a good deal of target practice, while on one 
 or two occasions you may have smelt gunpowder in a little skirmish. Now, how- 
 ever, the bugles are calling you into battle array, you are about to fall into line ; 
 soon the duties of life will weigh upon you, and I hope that you may accept your 
 positions with a spirit of contentment and discharge the duties of your lives with 
 fidelity. I hope that you may constantly improve, so that when men in high 
 places pass away, you may be fit to take their positions. Move slowly. Oaks 
 require many years of growth ; pumpkin-vines spread over an acre lot inside of 
 three months. Make no greater demands upon the world than you are entitled 
 to make, and in order to know what is due you, in order to know what you may 
 expect and what you can do, I am compelled once more to put before you the self- 
 same lesson study yourselves. 
 
 Men must have rest, but there are those who think they must be idle in order 
 to have rest. Idleness is not leisure, said Benjamin Franklin. There is rest in a 
 change of occupation, hence, men who have correct views of life are ever active. 
 There is too much to be done in the little span of time granted us here on earth 
 to waste hours in what the Italians fondly call dolcefar niente sweet idleness. 
 Many people, when looking over the day that is passed, are compelled to say, in 
 the language of Horace Mann : " Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise 
 and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward 
 offered, for they are gone forever." Says a German philosopher, "To-morrow 
 is not to-day," and unless you have done the duty of to-day, unless you have 
 done something for your own progress and for that of the world, you have lived 
 it in vain. Multiply your working years with 365 and notice how few your
 
 SUCCESS IN PROFESSIONAL LIFE. 29 
 
 working days are. Work then, work every hour, whether you are paid for it or 
 not, for your reward is sure to come. 
 
 Reserve not your energies for the future, when you expect to do great things, 
 but exercise them every day, so that when the time for great deeds does come, 
 your strength will be developed. Many dream of greatness, and aim at it as if 
 they had to kill a nine-headed hydra ere they could be called famous ; but true 
 greatness is the result of an honest discharge of one's daily duties. You will 
 never rise in the world without doing your daily work well. The devil does not 
 walk about with hoofs and horns in order to tempt us. No ; he generally comes 
 to us with fancy pictures, working upon our imaginations, thereby leading 
 us from the path of duty. The young mind loves to dwell upon the brightness 
 of the future, and while doing so is neglectful of present duty. Beware, how- 
 ever, of all such fancy pictures, for the future is apt to be deceiving. It often 
 presents itself like a lovely landscape, when viewed from afar, but when we come 
 near to it we find hard roads, burning sands, with thorns and thistles growing 
 among the flowers. Enjoy every day's work, enjoy every mile of your life's 
 journey, for then only will you be able to say in advanced years that you have 
 spent happy lives. 
 
 Have you thought of the fact that physicians are often called upon to confront 
 death ? It is a most serious duty to accompany a soul to the brink of that river 
 which divides the known from the unknown. You may not be Christians, but 
 you cannot at such a tune escape the question, Is this all of life? Can you 
 close your eyes to the fact that an hour will strike for you, when some other phy- 
 sician will say, he is dead, where shah 1 he be buried ? Ypu may deny everything, 
 but the fact that you must die is the greatest certainty that awaits you. What 
 is your idea of the great beyond? Will you be able to say a kind and cheering 
 word to a hopeless, dying person, if circumstances require you to do so ? What 
 opportunities for doing good you have constantly before you, and what a beautiful 
 picture it is to see the healer of the body point the patient also to the Healer of 
 the Soul. 
 
 There is one more point I must speak upon. Be progressive, young gentle- 
 men, be studious. I know many physicians who never look into a book except 
 they are called upon to attend a serious case of illness. As to medical journals, 
 they never seem to think of such things. Let me advise you to read wherever 
 and whenever you can. This world is like a huge army, and your medical pro- 
 fession is as a division of it. The command is to advance, and if you keep in 
 line you must straighten up, carry your musket and keep your powder dry. 
 Keep step with advancing forces, else you will soon be among the stragglers, 
 and then you must fight like bushwhackers. Be honest soldiers, who occupy 
 a place in the front. Unless you read and keep up with the world, you will be 
 regarded as antiquated specimens of medical ignorance, and the first wide-awake 
 and progressive man that comes into your town will overshadow you and take 
 your patronage from you. 
 
 As men accumulate great wealth by first laying up little sums, so men become 
 learned by storing away every day a few lessons. In the end you shall be rich in 
 mind, and before you are aware of your own superiority, others will see it and 
 select you for honorable positions. Would you rise in your profession, let me
 
 30 SUCCESS IN PROFESSIONAL LIFE. 
 
 advise you to be studious. Wait not for a great discovery or for a great surgical 
 operation that shall lift you suddenly to the highest honors, but gather knowledge 
 every day, so that when the time for your discovery and investigation may 
 come, you will be prepared and possess the necessary mental force. A lazy, 
 idling doctor bears the stamp of a worthless man. He may have a fine span 
 of horses, he may live in an elegant house, but he will be regarded as a 
 poor apology for a doctor. He started out with scanty rations in his knapsack, 
 and during the many years of practice he has added nothing to his original pork 
 and hard tack. In all probability he was a deficient student when he received 
 his diploma, and the little knowledge which he then possessed he failed to keep 
 bright. He will be denounced, and justly so, as an ignoramus, and only igno- 
 ramuses will employ him. 
 
 I have seen doctors in small country towns, for there they usually are objects 
 of observation, that had more time than they knew what to do with. The stu- 
 dious doctor never has too much of this precious article. The one is found every- 
 where except at the post of duty, the other is always there. Such doctors are 
 constantly in search of amusement and diversion, hence they are found in all 
 manner of places and company. If nothing better offers itself, they loaf in 
 stores or in taverns. This brings them into doubtful company, it lowers them 
 to the level of the ignorant and uncultivated, and before they are aware of it, 
 their status is fixed in public opinion. To switch off from a track like this is 
 indeed a difficult task. The studious doctor has no time to waste, he makes 
 his calls and then returns to his books. Imagine not that the world is blind 
 or indifferent to your doings, and that the public eye will not scrutinize your 
 conduct. Intelligent people watch physicians, they notice how they spend 
 their time, they notice, when passing their offices, whether they are studying or 
 whether they are sitting idly in their chairs with their feet on the table. The 
 intelligent will observe whether the doctors have books in hand, or whether they 
 while their time away playing checkers. Without being aware of the fact, a 
 stamp of some sort will be put upon you by the public ; see to it that this stamp 
 represents a good character. Be studious, start on the right track, no matter 
 where your lot may fall. Invest not every dollar in lands or in houses, nor in 
 horses, but buy yourselves good books, for these will be among your best friends. 
 
 The man who reads and stores his mind with knowledge is his own best com- 
 pany. The one that does not read becomes an idle talker ; he lets himself down 
 and loses the respect of people of culture. The richer your mind becomes the 
 happier you will be in your professional work ; the greater will be the pleasure 
 of acquiring knowledge. Its possession alone makes you independent. Never 
 overlook the fact that character and learning are the keys which open to you the 
 doors of the best society. 
 
 Have a literary and also an art existence. By no means confine your reading 
 entirely to your own profession. Read, however, only good books ; waste no time 
 upon novels. It is a sad sight to see people chew up husks when there is so much 
 good sweet corn ready to be consumed. If you can study other languages, do so ; 
 for thereby you increase your own powers tenfold. Good reading, genuine art- 
 culture, are admirable means to brush off that brusqueness and apparent rough- 
 ness of manners one notices so often in country physicians. Through reading
 
 SUCCESS IN PROFESSIONAL LIFE. 31 
 
 you learn to know life, and through it you will be better fitted to read men's 
 characters. Only what you KNOW is your own, not what you HAVE. Make the 
 most of yourselves, for so will you make the most for yourselves and for mankind. 
 
 I have endeavored to show you that in order to be successful in life you must 
 be manly men, you must be sober and intelligent, studious and progressive men, 
 you must know human nature, you must be prudent in act and speech, and you 
 must love and labor for the advancement of your profession. On the other hand, 
 there are many men who call themselves successful because they have acquired 
 much wealth. Their reasoning is based on the theory that some superiority is better 
 than none, and thus they make wealth a substitute for mental and moral superi- 
 ority, which is beyond their reach. Seek not your success in that direction. For 
 the sake of the love you bear to your chosen profession, aim to honor and to elevate 
 it by being the right sort of men. In entering upon the duties before you, borrow 
 courage and inspiration from the many illustrious men that have adorned the his- 
 tory of your profession. No matter what the difficulties may be that present 
 themselves, no matter what privations or criticisms you may be called upon to 
 endure, live as men that have chosen an honorable profession. Hold fast to your 
 calling ; blame it not for your own blunders, but honor and defend it, practice and 
 improve it, to the best of your ability. Give your whole soul to your work ; love 
 it, for love must be the propelling power in your calling, as it is in that of the 
 minister, teacher, and the artist. Labor unceasingly, labor earnestly, and then 
 wait patiently for public recognition. You may become great, but, be assured, 
 you must work hard and wait long for it. Thousands have entered the medical 
 profession before you, thousands will enter it after you ; but the bulk of these are 
 standing down in the valley. Very few have reached the summit of the mountain. 
 Are you willing to remain at the foot of the hill of fame, or are you ambitious to 
 rise ? No matter what your powers may be, endeavor to rise, at least as high as 
 you can. But bear in mind that true happiness is only found in the act of rising, 
 not so much in being elevated above others. Many imagine that there is great 
 satisfaction in standing high in one's profession. Such, no doubt, is the case, but 
 a high position brings also great responsibilities, and the higher one rises on a 
 mountain the colder becomes the atmosphere. The satisfaction of standing high 
 diminishes in the same ratio as one rises, for the higher you ascend the greater 
 becomes also your view of the immensity of the fields which have not as yet been 
 explored. Thus, the higher a man rises the better he appreciates his own de- 
 ficiency, and it will therefore be generally found true that the scholar is humble. 
 On the other hand, he has a perfect right to feel his own worth, when viewing 
 the common people before and behind him on the streets. 
 
 My prescription is made out, and it remains to be seen whether you will have 
 it filled and whether you will use it in life. Every doctor likes to see his 
 medicine taken ; so do I in this case. I may never see you in life again, but I 
 part from you feeling satisfied that to the best of my ability, I have improved 
 the little time granted me to direct you into the right path. No doubt all that 
 has been said is old, but the old truths, the plain truths, must be repeated to 
 every rising generation. They are plain old maxims, but for all that, they are 
 often difficult to remember and still more difficult to follow. Your teachers 
 know from experience how often they have repeated the first lessons of medi-
 
 32 SUCCESS IN PROFESSIONAL LIFE. 
 
 cine, and yet they will again be called upon next term to reiterate them. But no 
 one would say that the lessons themselves are the worse for it. 
 
 Take, then, my prescription, with my best wishes for your success. Fill it 
 out in life, and take a dose whenever needed. It is patent medicine, though 
 perfectly free from quackery. It is medicine patented to make you happy and 
 healthy in soul, mind and body. Let me recommend you the following words 
 uttered by a great and good man, as your life's motto or as your professional text. 
 Said he : "I expect to pass through this world but once ; if, therefore, there is 
 a good thing I can do to any fellow human being, let me do it now, for I shall not 
 pass this way again. ' ' To which I will add : if there is a good thing to do toward 
 helping any good cause along, do it to-day, for you will never live to-day over 
 again. May God richly bless you and, through you, your profession and mankind. 
 This is my parting wish.
 
 SCHOPENHAUER'S MUSICAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 Germany is preeminently the land of music, and in a like sense it is the land 
 of metaphysics. Strange to say, among the many philosophers that Germany 
 has produced, few have dealt successfully with the subject of music. Even 
 Kant, the founder of an art-philosophy, regarded music merely as a pleasant play 
 of the emotions; "but," says Hand, "he failed to make out whether a mere 
 sensuous impression or the effect of a discernment of form prevailed in that 
 play." Kant denied what every student of art now acknowledges, namely, that 
 music is a language of the emotions and a means of awakening aesthetical ideas. 
 According to Richard Wagner, only one philosopher has fully understood and 
 correctly set forth the high position of this art. In his little book, entitled, 
 "Beethoven," he says : " Schopenhauer was the first to recognize and designate 
 with philosophical clearness the position of music with reference to the other fine 
 arts, in that he awards to it a nature entirely different from that of the plastic 
 or poetic arts." This decided testimony in favor of Schopenhauer's musical 
 philosophy is all the stronger in view of the fact that Schopenhauer was by no 
 means a follower of Wagner. Yet, at first sight, it would seem as if the two 
 men were musical antipodes ; for Schopenhauer speaks favorably of Rossini's 
 music, which, in its character, its construction and tendency, is as far from Wag- 
 ner's ideas of musical art as the east is from the west. 
 
 Music cannot be made the medium of a special theology or of a code of ethics ; 
 we, as musical students, have therefore nothing directly to do with Schopen- 
 hauer's peculiar theories. Still, as his philosophy of music is closely connected 
 with his theory of the will, we must make you acquainted with it. 
 
 When reviewing this philosopher's theories we must judge of him in the light 
 of his own times and surroundings. The convulsion in society produced by the 
 French Revolution, and the bitter Napoleonic wars which followed, could not fail 
 to make its impression upon such a mind as that of Schopenhauer. Religious 
 skepticism prevailed everywhere among the learned as well as among the masses. 
 True religion was scarcely found anywhere. After the years of warfare had at 
 last ended, the masses gave themselves over to pleasure seeking. The various 
 governments of Europe did all they could to turn the people's attention from the 
 affairs of state and public morality. Every conceivable amusement was provided 
 for the masses, and it was at that tune that Rossini, with his sensuous operas, 
 prevailed everywhere, overshadowing even a man so great as Beethoven, and that 
 in the very city of Vienna, where Beethoven dwelt almost as an exile. It was 
 at this time that Strauss and Lanner, the dance-kings, appeared on the arena, 
 furnishing their charming new dances for ball-rooms. 
 3 33
 
 34 SCHOPENHAUER'S MUSICAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 While the people were thus made drunk with pleasures, the affairs of state 
 being in the hands of reactionists of the worst kind, all thinking men cher- 
 ished secret sorrow at the existing state of things. But what they cherished as 
 their own grief, was the common grief of the best men of the nation. It was 
 produced by that political and moral mildew which was setting upon the minds 
 of the people, and this grief is called in German, the Weltschmerz, or the grief of 
 the world. 
 
 Beethoven gives expression to the " Weltschmerz" in many of his matchless 
 works, but Schopenhauer is the true representative of this idea, and he carried 
 his state of dissatisfaction to such a degree, that he became a pessimist of the 
 very first water. There runs throughout his writings a vein of despair that 
 shocks one, and the reader is often chilled and even frightened at the terrible 
 coldness with which he destroys and dispels all those fond illusions and pictures 
 of fancy to which the human mind often resorts and clings as a relief. As 
 Schopenhauer took a deep interest in sacred Hindoo literature, one meets quite 
 frequently in his writings a peculiar Oriental cast, a sort of Buddhistic spirit, 
 which here and there lends a peculiar coloring to his essays. Then the attentive 
 reader cannot fail to discover, also, Schopenhauer's peculiar views about women, 
 which almost causes one to believe that he lived a few centuries ago. But 
 enough of these preliminary remarks. 
 
 Schopenhauer was born in Danzig, Germany, in the year 1788. His father 
 was a rich merchant ; his mother was the well-known authoress of novels, Johanna 
 Schopenhauer. A literary vein seems to have run in the larger portion of the 
 Schopenhauer family, for the daughter, Schopenhauer's only sister Adele, also 
 was a novelist. When Danzig was ceded to Prussia in 1793, the family being 
 anti-Prussian in political sentiment, moved, at considerable loss of property, to 
 Hamburg. The elder Schopenhauer was a very intelligent man. He was fond 
 of reading, but still more so of traveling, and he made frequent and prolonged 
 visits to England and France. These visits to foreign countries made young 
 Schopenhauer a good linguist, for he spoke and wrote both English and French 
 quite fluently. He was also well versed in the ancient languages, both in Latin 
 and Greek, and wrote dissertations in the former language. While the father 
 had many excellent points of character, he had also some great weaknesses, and 
 these the son not only inherited, but they became intensified in him. One of 
 these failings was a decided morbidness of temperament, which sometimes seemed 
 to overwhelm him. His mother evidently had no special affection for her hus- 
 band, and sought pleasure in society and travel, which separated her much from 
 her family. Young Schopenhauer, being the only son, was designed by his 
 father for the counting-house ; but the son persistently rebelled against all 
 mercantile employment. Mild forms of correction were employed, but these were 
 of no avail, and at last the choice was left between a regular college education 
 and a trip through Europe. Although young Schopenhauer was eager to 
 learn, he chose the latter, and in 1803 the family started for England and Scot- 
 land, where they remained for a considerable time. During this period our young 
 philosopher was placed in a boarding-school at Wimbledon, near London, and it 
 was here that he acquired a thorough knowledge of English, which he often dis- 
 plays in his writings. But what is far worse and much to be deplored, is the
 
 SCHOPENHAUER'S MUSICAL PHILOSOPHY. 35 
 
 fact that in this boarding-school he took a cordial dislike to English formality, and 
 especially to the English clergy and English ideas of religion. He is most un- 
 sparing when the opportunity offers itself to speak of the clergy of the Church 
 of England, and he himself says that a great deal of that bitterness which he 
 feels toward religion in general and the ministry in particular is chargeable to the 
 clergyman who presided over the Wimbledon school. 
 
 After leaving England, the family visited Switzerland and then returned home. 
 But scarcely had they been settled again in the old home when the father died. 
 Prompted by a sense of reverence for his parent's wishes, the son now entered 
 the counting-house ; but the desire for higher knowledge at last became irresist- 
 ible, and, impelled by his thirst for learning, he finally entered the University 
 of Gottingen, where he studied history and natural sciences, two studies, he 
 says, which in his later work proved very helpful to him. Here he became 
 acquainted with Schultze, who aided him with his sound advice. When refer- 
 ring to his metaphysical studies, Schultze counseled Schopenhauer to read Kant 
 and Plato first, and cautioned him under no circumstances to read any other phi- 
 losopher, especially not Aristotle and Spinoza, until he had thoroughly digested 
 the two first-named authors. In 1811 he went to Berlin, drawn thither by 
 Fichte, but after hearing a few lectures from that philosopher he felt disappointed 
 and turned from him. In 1813 he endeavored to secure the Doctor's degree at 
 the University in Berlin, but the war with France being then at its height, he 
 was prevented from making the attempt. He finally, however, took the degree 
 at Jena and then turned toward Weimar, the literary Mecca of Germany, where 
 he was favored with Goethe's friendship. It was here, also, that he met the 
 oriental scholar, Meyer, who caused Schopenhauer to interest himself in the holy 
 writings of East India, which, as has already been stated, gives some of his 
 essays such a strange cast. During the period from 1814-18 he lived quietly in 
 Dresden, and while there he wrote his famous treatise on " Sight and Colors." 
 About this time he also wrote his most famous work : "The World as the Will 
 and its Representation." In 1818 he visited Rome, and then returned to Berlin, 
 where he connected himself with the University as a lecturer. But he was soon 
 drawn a second time to Italy, where he remained until 1825. He again settled 
 in the Prussian capital, but the approach of the cholera drove him a second time 
 from that city, and this caused him to finally settle in Frankfort-on-the-Main, 
 where he spent his life. He was fortunately situated, for his father had left him 
 ample means. He was, therefore, not compelled to labor for his support ; he had 
 command of his own time, was independent of the powers that ruled, and could 
 afford to say exactly what he thought and felt. He was never slow to express his 
 opinions, and did so, regardless of people or place. 
 
 He now gave himself exclusively to metaphysical studies, and wrote diligently. 
 His first work, "The World as the Will and its Representation," failed to be 
 recognized, and was left totally unnoticed ; this was to him a source of great morti- 
 fication. Not until 1836, when he published a little pamphlet, entitled " The Will 
 in Nature," in which he set forth his philosophy in the most concise form, did 
 his writings attract any attention whatsoever. In 1839 one of his theses was 
 crowned by the Norwegian Academy of Science. In 1851 he wrote his best work,
 
 36 SCHOPENHAUER'S MUSICAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 entitled "Parerga and Para-li-pomena," a series of short essays on metaphysical 
 subjects, which are very fine specimens of writing. 
 
 Schopenhauer lived for thirty years in Frankfort, and was known there as the 
 Misanthropic Sage. On lonely walks he was always accompanied by his poodle, 
 to which he was much attached. In fact, it is said of him that he spent more 
 tune in the company of his dog than in that of man. It is the opinion of those 
 who lived nearest to our philosopher that his sad experiences in his dealings with 
 men, and his antipathy to his mother, made him the pessimist he was, but that 
 at heart he was kind, especially toward the suffering. He felt much sympathy 
 for those who had to battle with the adversities of life, and in his philosophy he 
 advises us not to become angry at the meanness of men, but rather to pity them 
 on this account, and to regard them as fellow-sufferers. Says he : "When you 
 meet a human being, try not at once to settle his mental and moral value, nor 
 endeavor to fix his inherent degree of dignity, neither attempt to fathom his mind 
 or to settle the absurdities of many of his views. The first would lead to hatred, 
 the second to contempt ; but rather regard your neighbor from the standpoint of 
 suffering ; see him in his perplexing anxieties, in his vain strivings, in his unsuc- 
 cessful endeavors to secure peace and quiet, in his needs and wants, in his ailings 
 of body and mind, and you will be forced to regard him as your kinsman. Instead 
 of indulging in hatred and feelings of contempt you will then arouse sympathy, 
 that sympathy which is love, and (says this pessimistic Schopenhauer, who is 
 regarded as totally devoid of all regard for religion), it is this love which the Gospel 
 teaches. " As far then as this basis is concerned he stands on religious ground. But 
 let us follow him a few steps further. Says he, " If you have cast a glance at the 
 meanness of man, and are ready to become exasperated over it, endeavor to awaken 
 sentiments of sympathy by looking at the suffering you see everywhere among the 
 children of men. And if this again alarms you, turn your eye upon the corrup- 
 tion of human nature, and thus will you establish a healthy equilibrium in your 
 mind. Then will you learn that there is eternal justice and that this world is 
 judgment. ' ' Schopenhauer was a firm believer in the doctrine of total depravity 
 in man, even in infants, He recognized the need of a change of heart, but in the 
 use of means we differ with him, as we shall presently see. 
 
 Schopenhauer turned away from all society, from all active participation in 
 those aspirations which agitate the human family ; but for all he was a diligent 
 reader of the European press ; he often took its statements to illustrate and to 
 prove his teachings. That he and his mother could not agree is a sad fact, yet 
 there were good causes for it. She delighted to live in a whirlpool of social 
 pleasures, and wrote weak novels. She saw the world only from the standpoint of 
 enjoyment, while he was a deep thinker, a philosopher who saw the world only in 
 the light of suffering. He believed in Aristotle's idea, that the avoidance of 
 trouble, which he calls a negative sort of happiness, is far more desirable than all 
 the pleasures which society offers. He was a profound scholar, a misanthrope, 
 a pessimist, while his mother was one of the worst optimists. In one of her letters 
 she said to him, "your lamentations over this stupid world and the misery of 
 mankind, give me bad nights and evil dreams." Another reason why Schopen- 
 hauer felt bitterly toward his mother was her neglect of his father's memory.
 
 SCHOPENHAUER'S MUSICAL PHILOSOPHY. 37 
 
 There was a great gulf, so to speak, between the two, and so mother and son went 
 their own ways. They had apparently nothing in common but their names. If 
 I should be forced to take sides between the two, I would stand with Schopenhauer, 
 for his ideas of the human family in all its corruption, his ideas of the evil propen- 
 sities of human nature, correspond most nearly with my experience. 
 
 But let us drop the curtain upon this sad picture. I merely raised it in order to 
 show you that the strongest men often find it impossible, by their own strength, 
 to swim against the current of circumstances. Philosophy always has had a clear 
 perception of the disturbed condition in the human heart, but philosophy never 
 found the true remedy. This the Gospel alone supplies. Schopenhauer was well 
 read in ancient as well as in modern literature. His best ideas, he says, came 
 from Kant, Plato, and the sacred writings of East India. He always was serious ; 
 he could not bear to see anything abused, neither man nor beast, literature nor 
 art, religion nor philosophy. He hated all cliques, all unmanly means to oppose 
 those that think differently ; he despised the socialistic ideas of modern times, as 
 these developed themselves during the revolutionary days of '48 and '49 ; in short, 
 he was completely at outs with his own times, and with many of the men that 
 held the wheels of government or that fashioned public thought. Despite his 
 exclusiveness, many great men came to Frankfort to make his acquaintance, and 
 not a few remained with him in order to study his philosophy, or to listen to his 
 interesting conversations. This made the last years of his life more pleasant and 
 himself more social. By nature he was an aristocrat ; in his teachings and con- 
 versations he was an autocrat. He denounced many of those who taught phi- 
 losophy in the Universities of Germany as mere Sophists, and upon the whole, he 
 called them a most sorrowful crew. Hegel he regarded as the arch-humbug. 
 Even Kant he accuses of veiling his ignorance at times by using language that is 
 difficult to understand. Yet it must be said of him that he held Kant in the very 
 highest esteem, and he often pronounced him the clearest thinker of modern 
 times. Schopenhauer despised obscurity in anything, and so he was also a despiser 
 of all duplicity in the use of language. When he speaks he always aims at a 
 point ; he never sets off mere fire-crackers, or Roman-candles. He always uses 
 hard shot that hits, though from a Christian standpoint he often shoots at a wrong 
 target. If he uses the knife he cuts to the bone, and what he says he utters regard- 
 less of the opinions of others. He displays the utmost faith in the correctness 
 of his own theories, and predicts that in the future, when men shall judge with 
 more freedom, when philosophy shall be less under the influence of those in 
 authority, his philosophy will be accepted as the only correct one. What if such 
 a man had been a Christian, a teacher of sound theology. His writings are some- 
 times difficult to understand, partly because he uses technical terms with special 
 meanings attached to them that must be learned by much close reading of his 
 theories. Moreover, he often writes in lengthy and intricate sentences, but after 
 studying these, his ideas always stand out clearly. No matter how we may dislike 
 many of these ideas, and no matter how much we may deplore the fact that they 
 were not turned into the right channel, we must give them credit for fearlessness, 
 for candor, and for freedom from all school-cant. The fundamental ideas of his 
 philosophy are these : The will of man is the real (thing in this world, all else is
 
 38 SCHOPENHAUER'S MUSICAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 mere representation. This will, of which Schopenhauer speaks, is not what in 
 common language is meant by the absolute free power of action, but implies, in 
 the philosopher's mind, the essence of all things, the all-pervading power mani- 
 festing itself everywhere. This will stands separate from the faculty of reasoning ; 
 it is the thing in itself, in which the created world and the Creator meet. From 
 this standpoint man becomes the act, the true manifestation of the will. The 
 will, which lies at the foundation of all representations and appearances, develops 
 into a succession of ideas. From the animal downward, the will is void of cog- 
 nition and ideas ; it is a mere blind force, an unconscious seeking and fleeing. It 
 is active in plant life, in animal life, until in man it manifests itself through the 
 nerve power and the brain, thereby reaching its highest state of self-consciousness. 
 The will comes first, it is the greatest factor, and the intellect stands second to it. 
 According to Schopenhauer's theories, the intellect is a tool in the hands of the 
 will, if I may be permitted to use this expression. The will always manifests 
 itself through motives. In the animal the intellect is subordinate to the will. 
 The animal knows and follows only the laws of self-preservation. Prompted by 
 instinct it seeks food and shelter. Among the common people^ that factory- ware 
 of society, as Schopenhauer calls them, the will has no higher aims and wants 
 than self-gratification. With them the will is the master and the brain the ser- 
 vant, but when the man becomes educated, when he reaches a high state of cul- 
 ture, the brain begins to rule and gradually subdues the will. In genius, which 
 is the highest type of sensibility and intellectuality, the mind becomes the supreme 
 ruler. The intellect is so completely absorbed and so intensely interested in the 
 clear perception of things, that the will is, as it were, put into chains ; the mind 
 emancipates itself from the will and its powers, and it is then, and not until 
 then, that the mind learns to see things in their true light ; that is, the mind sees 
 things no longer in the light of mere usefulness and productivity but simply for 
 then- own sakes. This is the pleasurable, aesthetic contemplation of which 
 Schopenhauer speaks so much, and of which I will say more in another place. 
 This aesthetic contemplation affords us, however, only temporary relief ; it sup- 
 presses the will-power only for a brief period of time, for the renewed activity 
 of the will forces upon us new wants, and thus prevents us from enjoying per- 
 manent rest. The will desires to have and to live, but, as life is inseparably 
 connected with suffering, the will, if gratified, must necessarily lead to suffering. 
 The more the will is suppressed, the more effectually it is denied, the better and 
 purer man becomes, until finally in sanctification, by turning from life, he realizes 
 in himself a complete deathness toward this world, and a cheerful resignation to 
 its conditions, which gives him the much sought for relief. Thus we see how our 
 philosopher sees through self-negation that which, according to the teachings 
 of the Bible, can only be found in a cheerful resignation to the will of God, 
 and in accepting the plan of salvation. But, continues the philosopher, that 
 which appears only in single instances among the pure, the good, and the 
 sanctified that is, the perfect denial of the will would, if it were reached by 
 all, lead to the destruction of mankind ; as we now know it, it would be the 
 end of that world which represents the will. For this new order of things, 
 however, we lack all conception, says our author, and to us it is, therefore, equal
 
 SCHOPENHAUER'S MUSICAL PHILOSOPHY. 39 
 
 to nothing. On the other hand, we must bear in mind the fact that our world is 
 nothing in the eyes of those who have denied the will, and who have come to 
 realize its tendency. 
 
 At one time Schopenhauer's philosophical theories seemed to reach the masses 
 of Germany, but they have lost much of their popularity. In the land of Locke 
 and Bacon he became known in 1853, through an article which appeared in the 
 Westminster Review, and it is claimed that the attention which was bestowed 
 upon him by the English press tended largely to make him known among his own 
 countrymen. 
 
 Schopenhauer died in Frankfort on the 21st of September, 1860, at the age of 
 72. His housekeeper found him one morning, after breakfast, lifeless in his chair. 
 He left a portion of his estate to the Invalides of the Prussian army, who fought 
 against the Socialists and Liberals in the revolution of '48 and '49. He allowed 
 nothing to be put upon his tombstone but the bare name, Arthur Schopenhauer. 
 
 Perhaps some may think, that inasmuch as we are concerned only in Schopen- 
 hauer's musical theories, I have paid too much attention to his life and philosophy ; 
 but you will presently see that, in order to understand this latter, the facts given you 
 are necessary as a basis. His life-story might have been omitted, but I know that 
 there are many among you who would be interested in it. So let us now retrace 
 our steps in order that we may properly get a clear understanding of the real 
 subject in hand. 
 
 Kant, in his ' ' Critique of Pure Reason, ' ' says, that he has proven the abso- 
 lute impenetrability of the essence of things by human knowledge. In order to 
 see objects, we can only behold them in time, in space and hi their mutual rela- 
 tions to cause and effect. We cannot, therefore, go beyond the appearance of 
 things, and there must always be something unknown, namely, that which exists 
 independent of the appearance, independent of time, space and causality. This 
 Kant calls the "thing in itself," and as we cannot grasp it, this thing in itself is 
 called the X of the universe. Schopenhauer steps in and says that the will is 
 that which represents this X, and he claims that by this solution he has given 
 positiveness and consciousness to the metaphysical world. The will pervades ah 1 
 things, hence, we become identified with all things, and there is, therefore, no 
 longer a mysteiy which we cannot solve. It is true, all things must be seen 
 through time, space and causality, but there is one exception, and this exception 
 is man. We are conscious of a vital power in ourselves, and this power is the 
 will ; it is ever present, ever active, it makes itself forever felt, it is the tiling 
 of our being. This recognition of self Schopenhauer regards as the only meta- 
 physical knowledge, in the proper sense of the word. Looking at the world we 
 see a repetition of ourselves, and that on a gigantic scale. There can be no 
 other substratum, says he, in the universe than the will in its various stages of 
 consciousness. There is, therefore, a spirit of unity in the created world, and 
 this makes us a part of the whole, it fills up the chasm that divides the mental 
 and material forces, and enables us to glance fearlessly at the straggling and suf- 
 fering of mankind. The history of the world, says Schopenhauer, is but a 
 struggle of the will to become conscious, and this consciousness is reached in 
 man. Will and interminable desire are the essence of all beings. Everywhere 
 we see the will straggling for an existence ; whatever obstructs its path is resisted ;
 
 40 SCHOPENHAUER'S MUSICAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 species devour species ; race contends against race ; even mother earth is seeth- 
 ing in its interior with fires, ready to burst forth at any time. Thus we see the 
 will devour its own children. The author points to the apparent cruelty of 
 nature and tells us it is the nature of the will. But is there no escape from 
 this torment ? Even if we could agree with Schopenhauer in all he said, here 
 we have reached the parting point for good. While it is my belief that all these 
 evils can only be remedied by regeneration in Christ, Schopenhauer points out 
 two ways for us in which we may escape from the torment of the will. One of 
 these is self-denial, as has already been shown, that is, the subjection of the will 
 by the aid of the brain. The misery of the will is mirrored in the brain, and 
 through its aid the will is enabled to subdue its desires. This leads to the dead- 
 ening of our desires, and this is what Christianity teaches or points to. Scho- 
 penhauer by no means hesitates to point in this direction, for he sees the greatest 
 ideal of happiness in the strictest order of the Catholic Church, the Trappists, 
 an order which forbids its members even the privilege of speaking, and which 
 demands most complete self-denial. In fact, Trappists live in a tomb where 
 deathly silence reigns. 
 
 There are, however, other means, says Schopenhauer, of temporarily emerging 
 from this struggling and suffering, these ever-continued wants of the will, and 
 these means are the arts which lead to pure reflection and temporary peace. I 
 have, in a previous part of my lecture, referred to that pleasurable aesthetic con- 
 templation of which Schopenhauer says so much. Allow me now to explain. 
 When viewing objects in art or nature, the artist beholds them without desire or 
 without the action of the will. He divests things of their accidental surround- 
 ings ; he sees the real essence of the things, that is, the idea which lies beyond 
 time, space and causality. The mind is completely absorbed, and the will is, for 
 the time being, silenced. He who thus enjoys art is in a will-less state, he feels 
 not its wants. This, no doubt, is the true enjoyment of art. It is the divine 
 character of the beautiful, inherent in every true work of art, that lifts us out of 
 our every -day existence, that ennobles our thoughts and emotions. The beau- 
 tiful can have but one source, it can be concentrated in but one being, and this is 
 none other than God. True art therefore brings us in contact with the Divine idea, 
 and in this sense all true art must be sacred. Pure art impressions, therefore, 
 must be good, and for the time being they gently whisper peace to our souls. 
 This aesthetic contemplation, however, affords us only temporary relief, it sup- 
 presses the will for a brief period only. This temporary state of elevation, 
 together with the mental culture brought about by true art studies, shows the 
 benign influence of the beautiful when we take it into our hearts. Schopen- 
 hauer says it is the aim of all the arts to express the true essence of things ; and 
 this expression of the essence of things brings me to the ultimate object of my 
 lecture, namely, the philosophy of music. 
 
 Schopenhauer starts out by saying that Music stands alone ; that it is separated 
 from all the other arts. Being neither an imitation of anything created, nor a 
 repetition of anything seen, not even a repetition of ideas of objects, it must, 
 nevertheless, be analogous to the other arts ; it must stand in the same relations 
 to the world as the representation stands to the real thing, as the copy stands to 
 the original. These relations, however, must be very intimate, true and correct,
 
 SCHOPENHAUER'S MUSICAL PHILOSOPHY. 41 
 
 for music is readily understood and most deeply felt by all men. The question 
 which now presents itself is this : Wherein consists the peculiar relation of music 
 to the world ; wherein is it distinguished from the other arts ? In answer, the 
 philosopher says it is the object of the arts to lead to the cognition of ideas 
 through the representation of objects. They all represent the will, but only 
 through ideas, through objects. Music, on the other hand, needs no objects, 
 it represents the will itself; hence, it is direct in its operations, and, as the 
 will is the same everywhere, music is easily understood and felt by all nations. 
 Music, therefore, represents the real thing, the thing itself, not a mere appear- 
 ance. The other arts only speak of the shadow ; music speaks of the real sub- 
 stance, for it represents the will. For this reason it can be said that music could 
 exist without this world ; yes, the world might be called embodied music, and, 
 continues he, were we able to give a perfect and satisfactory explanation of music, 
 we would also have the true philosophy of the world itself. Music is the melody, 
 and the world is the text to the same. In the lower tones of harmony we recog- 
 nize inorganic nature ; in the voices lying between bass and soprano we see the 
 successive creations, while the upper voices represent the higher organic law and 
 life. In the melody which leads the whole we recognize man. There is a limit 
 to the depth of sound beyond which no tone can be heard, which is analogous to 
 the fact that matter must have form in order that it may be perceptible. The 
 four voices, bass, tenor alto and soprano, represent the mineral, vegetable, animal 
 kingdoms, and, finally, man himself. The bass, like a crude mass, moves but 
 slowly, while the higher voices move quicker ; yet not one of them has a full 
 meaning without the melody, which leads all, which imparts ideas and senti- 
 ments, and which expresses the will, the striving of man. The melody tells the 
 most secret emotions of the heart, and reveals every desire of the human will, 
 hence, it is called the language of emotions. Wagner's admiration for Schopen- 
 hauer's musical theories is mainly based upon a few leading principles, one of 
 which is the assigning to music a separate and higher position from the other 
 arts ; for Wagner has abolished melody, at least in that sense in which Schopen- 
 hauer refers to it. This will be plain when I refer to the fact that he points to 
 Rossini as the master of melody. Every musical student at all conversant with 
 Wagner's ideas of art, knows how low is his estimate of the Italian maestro and 
 his art work. 
 
 Our existence in life, says the philosopher, is a continued alternating of desires 
 Sind gratifications. The will is forever wanting, and it strives continually to gratify 
 *ts wants. We really know but two states while in the body, the state of want 
 and the state of satisfaction ; the conditions of desire and gratification. Analo- 
 gous to this, music has but two leading chords, from which all others are derived. 
 These are the tonic chord and the dominant chord of the seventh. The first is a 
 chord of rest and calmness, the second is a chord of unrest, of longing and striv- 
 ing. Music is a continued succession of these two chords, and in this is repre- 
 sented our never-ceasing desires as followed by gratification. Thus, the composer 
 reveals the innermost condition of our souls, he speaks the greatest truth, and 
 speaks it in a language which reason comprehends not, but a language which is 
 understood alike by men the world over. This art of disclosing all the secret 
 desires of the will through the agency of tone, is the work of a genius, who, in
 
 42 SCHOPENHAUER'S MUSICAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 producing music, does not labor so much with a purpose or with the understand- 
 ing, but by inspiration, which puts him in a state of clairvoyance, as it were. 
 The simple idea of reasoning in the act of composing music is fruitless. Like a 
 somnambulist, the composer gives himself over to uttering revelations without 
 reasoning about what he does. He speaks or writes of that which, in a state of 
 wakefulness, he has no idea. Hence, it may be said that in the musician the 
 artist is more effectually separated from the man itself than among other artists. 
 Hence, also, it is that the act of composing music is looked upon as more myste- 
 rious than is that of painting, cutting marble or writing poetry. This is a second 
 principle which Wagner endorses. In his little book entitled "Beethoven," he 
 says that " through the effect of music upon us our vision is depotentialized in 
 such a way that even with open eyes we no longer see intensively. And, in fact, 
 it is only in this state that we immediately belong to the musician's world. From 
 this world, which otherwise we have no means of portraying, the musician, 
 by the disposition of his tones in a certain measure, spreads a net for us; 
 or, again, he besprinkles our perceptive faculties with the miracle-working 
 drops of his sounds in such a manner that they are incapacitated, as if by 
 magic, for the reception of any impressions other than those of our own inner 
 world." 
 
 In another place, when speaking of the clairvoyant state in which the com- 
 poser writes, the same author says : " Only one state can surpass his own, that 
 of the saint ; and that especially because it is enduring and incapable of being 
 clouded, while on the other hand, the enrapturing clairvoyance of the musician 
 alternates with a continued returning state of individual consciousness, which 
 must be thought only the more miserable in proportion as the inspired state ele- 
 vates him higher above all limits of individuality. For this reason, i. e. , the suf- 
 ferings with which he must pay for the state of inspiration in which he enrap- 
 tures us so inexpressibly, the musician may well appear to us as worthier of rev- 
 erence than other artists, indeed, as almost possessing a claim to our veneration. 
 For his art, in fact, sustains the same relations to the complex of the other arts 
 that religion does to the church. ' ' 
 
 Now let us return to our two chords, those of rest and unrest. Quick succession 
 from want to gratification, says Schopenhauer, produces pleasure. So melodies 
 and harmonies with quick successions from the dominant to the tonic are cheer- 
 ful and please us at once. Being sprightly and easily understood, they gratify 
 the uncultivated, those in whom the will rules supreme as yet While melodies 
 of a slow character, melodies with complicated harmonies which fail to step 
 quickly from the dominant into the tonic, produce slow gratification ; hence, they 
 are sad, they deny or curb the will, and for this reason fail to please those who lack 
 musical culture. Mazzini says that this is preeminently the nature of German 
 music, that it is too elegiac in its character. In short, it may be said that there 
 is, according to the Italian writer, too much of the " Weltschmerz " in it 
 
 A melody which never leaves the original key fails to interest us ; it represents 
 neither want nor gratification, it is therefore unlike life, it is lifeless. Man does 
 not stand isolated, but is related to and connected with the lower beings, and 
 these again are connected with beings of still lower grades ; so melody is only 
 perfect in harmony, which enables it to make more powerful impressions. Music
 
 SCHOPENHAUER'S MUSICAL PHILOSOPHY. 43 
 
 that speaks less of want and more of gratification, music with light melodies and 
 simple harmonies, bespeaks only light emotions. 
 
 Music is a living language, it is a universal language, it pictures and expresses 
 every shade of sentiment, and does so far more powerfully than does the language 
 of words. Yet, when it portrays joy, sorrow or love, it does not depict any par- 
 ticular joy, sorrow or love, but it gives us simply these states of mind in general. 
 In this particular direction music reveals to us the quintessence of life itself, and 
 the heart, therefore, understands this language and its emotions without seeking 
 to know the motives that produced them. But, inasmuch as our thinking facul- 
 ties do not like to remain idle while the imagination is active, we clothe music 
 with the word, we have accompanied it with action ; and this leads us to song, 
 the oratorio and the opera. Though music does give us the quintessence of life 
 itself, it never can picture situations or events ; hence, programme music is 
 against the spirit of the art. When men, therefore, imitate things, scenes and 
 situations, they reduce music to the level of the other arts, for then music ceases 
 to address the heart and attempts to speak to the head, the reason and intellect. 
 Music of the heart touches us ; music of the head fails to reach us in the same 
 degree of intensity. Music, when it appears to us as a far-off paradise, is so 
 easily felt, yet so difficult to comprehend, because it reveals to us our inner 
 natures. Says Schopenhauer, good music tells us what we are or what we might 
 be. It gives us a picture of life full of love and void of its sorrows. It is the 
 best commentator on our lives ; hence, when listening to a symphony, continues 
 he, we feel as if the secrets of our hearts had been told us, it seems as if our lives 
 were passing before us, without being able to say wherein consists the connection 
 between music and these lives. Hence, music is the lock and key to our memo- 
 ries and our affections. When listening to a grand piece of music we are trans- 
 planted into a world of sentiment, into the land of imagination. Our emotions 
 are aroused and we forget, as it were, the real world without, with all its griefs 
 and sorrows, and we exist for the time being in a world without sorrow. This 
 reminds one forcibly of the theory of preexistence so often alluded to by the 
 ancient Greek writers, when speculating about the effect of the beautiful. Good 
 music, continues the philosopher, expresses pure emotions, and for this reason it 
 will eventually pass around the world and remain true forever. Poor music also 
 expresses human sentiments but poorly ; and for this reason it is bound to die 
 before it goes very far. It comes not from the heart, hence it fails to go to the 
 heart, and for this reason it lacks true life and must pass away. 
 
 It has already been stated, that music does not express ideas, but affects the 
 soul directly, intensifying and purifying our emotions. From the close relations 
 sustained by music to all things, and especially to our souls, it follows that, if 
 words, scenes, or actions are accompanied with suitable music, it acts as the best 
 commentator. No art operates upon man so directly and so deeply as music, and 
 that for the reason, that none of the other arts permit us to look so deep into the 
 true condition of the things of this world as music does. 
 
 When comparing the productive artist with the reproductive one, Schopenhauer 
 says, that the power of composing outweighs that of executing. A good musical 
 composition imperfectly performed gives us greater pleasure than does the best 
 performance of a bad composition. A bad drama, on the other hand, if well
 
 44 SCHOPENHAUER'S MUSICAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 played, gives more satisfaction than a good one but poorly performed. Much 
 more might be added concerning our philosopher's theories, but time forbids. 
 
 Schopenhauer, no doubt, was a profound thinker who uttered many true words 
 concerning music, but he advances also ideas to which I cannot subscribe. One 
 of his objectionable theories is, that he ascribes to music those powers which 
 thinking men accord only to religion. We ah 1 think highly of music ; we love the 
 art, and delight to know that by common consent it is called the " Divine Art ; " 
 but it is not designed to supplant religion. 
 
 We all believe in the existence of misery and suffering, in the depravity of 
 human nature ; we believe in the need of a change of heart, of a relief from 
 suffering. But your teacher utterly disavows the idea that music, despite its 
 refining and soothing influences, can accomplish what God alone can do, that is, 
 change man's heart and cause him to look for a perfect peace in the beyond. 
 With this faith firmly fixed in our hearts, we detract nothing from either art or 
 artist ; nay, we are all the better enabled to accept, to enjoy, and to use music as 
 one of the richest and best gifts God ever gave to man. With this faith firmly 
 rooted in our minds and hearts, we can read Schopenhauer, accept that which is 
 good, and reject that which is false. I have felt it to be my duty to make you 
 acquainted with this philosopher's theories, because as future teachers of music, 
 you should know something about them. Rousseau has already said that musi- 
 cians read too little, and it may well be added, that many of them think too little. 
 The cause of musical culture is fast advancing in this country, and the time is near 
 at hand, yes, it is now, when teachers of music are expected to be more than 
 skillful players and singers. The world demands that they shall be well-read men 
 and women, capable of thinking independently about their art
 
 MUSIC OF NATURE. 
 
 When speaking of the music of nature, the word music is not used in an art- 
 sense, for art-music is not found in nature. It would be degrading to man to 
 intimate that he learned music from birds, or that he caught it from the whisper- 
 ing winds, for the same hand that fashioned the bird also implanted in our 
 breasts the love of song. It cannot, however, be denied that the voices of nature 
 have exercised a decided influence upon the development of the art. While all 
 intelligences can hear the sounds of nature, not every one hears music in them. 
 These sounds never become music unless our own heart-strings vibrate with them. 
 When we listen to music, be it that of art or that of nature, our imagination 
 must aid us ; we must have song in our hearts, else we hear nothing but sounds. 
 
 Complete silence, like complete darkness, is unendurable ; our nature revolts 
 against it. God's earth is one of motion, therefore one of sound. The earth 
 whirls onward at great speed, and is it reasonable to suppose that it moves silently? 
 Even light vibrates and produces sound, and is not the universe full of it ? The 
 noise which the heavenly bodies are supposed to produce is called the music of 
 the spheres. For over 3000 years the idea of a celestial music has engaged the 
 human mind. It is this sort of music the Psalmist must allude to when he says : 
 "The heavens declare the glory of God." Imagine the heavenly bodies speed- 
 ing their way through the universe, making sounds like peals of mighty organs, 
 while myriads of beings shout Hallelujah in honor of Hun who made all things. 
 It does not follow because we cannot hear this music that it does not exist. If 
 we could strengthen our hearing as we do our eyesight, what wondrous sounds 
 we would hear. - But let us leave the heavens and visit mother earth, whose 
 sounds we do hear. 
 
 Doubtless, you all have heard of the strange sounds which the statue of Mem- 
 non produces at sunrise. On the island of Ceylon there is heard what the 
 natives call the Devil's music, so terrible at times that the people become fright- 
 ened. In Thibet there are heard noises which seem to call strangers by their 
 names. On the waters of the Orinoco there are heard trumpet sounds, which 
 the people call the voices of the holy trumpets, while near its shore stands a rock 
 which, at sunset, produces tones deep and solemn, like those of an organ. On 
 the Isle of Bourbon are trees the leaves of which sing. On the battle-field of 
 Marathon there are heard noises at night which remind one of the march of an 
 army. It is said that Miltiades is still passing nightly over the plains where he 
 won his victory. In a cave in Finland there are heard from time to time the most 
 horrible sounds, as if produced by wild animals. A cavern in Hungary emits 
 sounds that resemble the firing of pistols. Strange noises are heard in oriental 
 
 45
 
 46 MUgIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 countries, and even in this country, which are produced by the shifting of sand. 
 There is a certain kind of rock found in China, which, when rubbed with the 
 fingers, produces sounds like those of a trumpet. In France there are found 
 rocks which produce whole chords when struck with the palm of the hand. 
 
 The sounds produced by the avalanches as they come down mountain sides are 
 described as something bordering on the terrible, while those who have visited 
 Vesuvius when about to be active, describe the sounds produced by the seething 
 mass as altogether fearful. There lived near my home a person known all over 
 Germany as the wild hunter. The story goes, that this hunter, who was a rich 
 baron, murdered his family, and being unable to find rest for his troubled con- 
 science, donated his mansion to the Catholic Church, by whom it was afterward 
 turned into a monastery. It was within the walls of that old building that I lived 
 for three years. The owner, Baron Roddenstein, moved into two castles standing 
 a few miles east of my home. It is said that to this day the unfortunate man 
 wanders from one castle to the other, and those who are courageous enough 
 to approach may hear the shouts of men, the barking of dogs, the rattling of 
 wagons, etc. It is the popular belief that whenever these sounds are heard, war 
 is to follow between Germany and some other nation. What it is that produces 
 these noises is not known, but there is no doubt that heat and electricity are 
 the forces to which many of them are attributable. The discovery has lately been 
 made that the air, under process of heating by the rays of the sun, emits sounds. 
 Several French savants, in order to investigate this fact, ascended in a balloon at 
 early morning and remained up until after sunrise. While thus above the clouds 
 they heard beautiful musical sounds, as if produced by a gigantic ^Eolian harp. 
 
 If the land has its strange voices, the mighty deep is not less remarkable on that 
 account. Sailors claim that the sea is full of fairies and spirits that produce these 
 strange noises. On the coast of the North Sea there are heard sounds which seem 
 to come from a person in great distress. On the Gulf of Mexico one hears mys- 
 terious sounds, which some say come from singing fishes, while others ascribe them 
 to the waters rushing through coral caves. Near Land's End, in England, there 
 are heard sounds which the fishermen attribute to spirits of the deep. These 
 noises are no doubt produced by the rocks on the Cornish coast. On the .^Egean 
 Sea there are heard tones which resemble chords struck by a guitar. They arise 
 from the waves washing upon loose stones. The drops of water falling within the 
 Fingal's Cave produce a most pleasing effect to the poetic mind, and Mendelssohn 
 could not resist the temptation to introduce their lovely chime in his overture to 
 the Hebrides. 
 
 The echo is one of nature's mocking instruments. The Hebrews call it the 
 laughter of the voice. The ancients believed it to be a nymph, who, having been 
 deceived by her lover, was turned into a tear, and nothing was left her but the 
 voice with which she replies to the passions. An echo in England repeats every- 
 thing three tones lower. Another repeats a word seven times in day and twenty 
 times at night. An echo in Russia repeats one word one hundred times, while 
 another in Algiers does so one thousand times. If we, like the echo, must repeat 
 what we have heard, let us, like it, be at least truthful, if we cannot be charitable. 
 
 Humboldt, in his "Views of Nature," describes a scene near the Orinoco river. 
 Having stopped with his party near the edge of one of those impenetrable woods
 
 MUSIC OF NATURE. 47 
 
 so plentiful in South America, they hung up their hammocks, surrounded their 
 camp with fire, in order to protect themselves against the attacks of wild animals. 
 They rested undisturbed, except by the snoring of the Delphines in the river, and 
 by the approach of alligators, who raised their heads in order to see the strangers. 
 At eleven o'clock, however, there was heard such a noise in the woods that all sleep 
 was at an end. The strangest and wildest mixture of sounds reached their ears. 
 The jaguar, the tiger, and Brazilian lion were out on a hunt. Their roars resounded 
 in the woods ; their basses were accompanied by the tenors of the larger and smaller 
 monkeys, while the parrots and pheasants, with their loud screams, made up the 
 sopranos and altos. At one time they screamed together, then they howled alter- 
 nately. Presently a tiger's voice was heard in the tree-tops, while the whole 
 monkey family affrighted, fled with screams and snarls. This, in turn, alarmed 
 the birds, who shrieked with terror and fled. But, hark ! a jaguar has caught a 
 wild pig, and while the poor animal screams in the death agony, the successful 
 hunter growls loudly to keep his jealous companions away. Thus, the whole 
 animal creation seemed wild and terror-stricken. But, to heighten the effect, a 
 violent storm set in ; lightning flashed, the thunder roared, the wind howled, 
 bending the palms, and breaking off limbs of trees with terrific crashes. Thus, 
 it may be said that ah 1 creation was in a terrible turmoil. This is one of nature's 
 wildest concerts, of which we happily know nothing. The storm king is a mighty 
 sovereign ; he rides over hills and mountains ; he sweeps through valleys and along 
 rivers ; he tries everything to make his voice heard ; he uses trees like so many 
 harps, and their liinbs like so many strings ; he whistles on reeds and howls in 
 caverns, and when he lays hands upon the thousands of instruments in his way, 
 there are heard shrieks and wailings, while lightnings illumine his way, and the 
 thunder, like a huge drum, beats time to his terrible march. What a spectacle 
 when the elements rage, when the rain comes down in torrents, when the wind 
 breaks off the limbs of trees, as an excited harpist snaps the strings of his instru- 
 ment, and when the earth seems to be shaken to its very centre ? 
 
 The sea is the mightiest organ among nature's musical instruments. Even when 
 still its vastness impresses us, and the mighty waters lie. like nature's largest child, 
 hi a cradle, gently rocking itself. When the tide comes in the little waves that 
 come on shore seem to say, " Step back, or I wet your feet," and they come just 
 near enough to cause you to fear that they will do so, when suddenly, with laugh- 
 ter, they recede, as if they had merely tried to frighten you. Listen ! Hear the 
 laughter, the incessant chatter of the bubbling ripples. Behold the beautiful 
 bright sunlight shining upon them, reflecting the rays like sparkling diamonds, 
 while the pebbles and sand beneath form a rich background. Verily the best 
 artist fails when attempting to paint such a scene. 
 
 The calm sea talks gently, but when the storms rage you hear the sea moan 
 and sing, then its slumbering powers are aroused, and the waters rush through 
 caverns, producing sounds like the deep murmurings of an earthquake. Wildly 
 the waves dash against the rocks, turning into foam and spray, yelling and 
 screaming, and falling back in utter weakness before the boundaries God has set 
 for them. As the wind increases in fury the waves, with their mighty artillery, 
 make a still grander and louder noise. They rise higher and higher until they 
 hide the very moon from our sight They spring at each other like fighting war-
 
 48 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 riors, they howl like huge dragons, and like sea monsters ready to devour, rush 
 upon you ; those waves which but an hour ago played at your feet. Hear the 
 grand breakers, listen to the trumpet sounds of the wind, sending its blasts boldly 
 over land and sea. That is battle music ; the wind is a great commander, and 
 the sea is a mighty army. 
 
 But if God's earth is beautiful in its grandeur, it is also worthy of our admira- 
 tion in the smaller forms of creation. There is sweet sound in the rippling waves, 
 in the rustling leaves, in the whispering winds, in the chirp of the cricket, in the 
 songs of the birds, for all these sounds are but so many stops in the great organ 
 of nature. 
 
 Birds are nature's best and sweetest singers, and theirs was no doubt the first 
 song of praise and thanks that arose to the heavens, for birds sang before man 
 was made. Let me describe for you a bird concert. Spring-time is the season 
 when the birds sing sweetest. It is in that pleasant time of the year when the 
 hillsides are first green, when the cattle graze leisurely, causing the monotonous 
 tinkle of the cowbells to be heard far and near, making the stillness of a May 
 morn all the more apparent. The trees are covered with blossoms, and look like 
 huge bouquets stuck in the ground. These are the halls hi which the birds give 
 their concerts. Not only have they elegant halls; they themselves are more 
 beautifully arrayed than the most elegantly dressed prima donna or the most 
 gaudily uniformed brass band. They charge no admission, they wait for no late 
 comers, they care for no applause, neither do they mind your criticism. The 
 birds give several concerts each day, the best of which takes place just before 
 sunrise. Nature is yet still ; even Mr. Rooster, whose voice was heard every 
 hour during the night, is taking another nap with his hen family. He who is up 
 that early and listens will now hear one voice and then another, as if calling out 
 "are you awake? are you ready for the concert? let us begin" and presently 
 there are heard voices coming from out of the hedges and trees saying, yes, we 
 are ready, and then begins the contest of song. There are the blackbirds, who 
 come in small armies, who sing the choruses with their monotonous chirps. They 
 are the monkeys of the bird family, with their incessant chatter. Then there is 
 heard the merry voice of Master Robin, laughing aloud as he flies from fence-post 
 to fence-post, and from tree to tree, as if saying, I am not afraid of you ; you 
 can't catch me. Then there is heard the whistle of the red bird, sharp as a 
 piccolo flute, while Master Woodpecker, with his red military cap, beats the drum. 
 The busy wren, ever moving, sings lustily, while the catbird, our sweetest and 
 most modest singer, lets his voice be heard from the close pines. Then there is 
 heard that voice of peace and sorrow, gentle and sweet, the coo of the dove 
 mournful but always tender. The richly colored jays, too, let their war-cry be 
 heard, interchanging it once in a while with that modest and loving call for their 
 mates. On the barn over yonder are sitting the martins ; they form a straight 
 line, first looking to one side then to the other, chatting and talking as if they 
 were repeating the most important tales about their late trip from the Southland. 
 Thus the singing continues for about half an hour, after which birds make their 
 toilet and take their breakfast. The sun having risen, birds, like lazy fellows, 
 now cease to sing, and, like idle loafers, they sit under cover of shady trees or go 
 on foraging expeditions. Toward evening another concert takes place. Then the
 
 MUSIC OP NATURE. 49 
 
 catbird does his best. He perches himself upon the topmost limb of a tree and 
 sings as if his throat Would split. Oh, how often have I stopped the piano for 
 the pleasure of listening to our sweetest vocalist, the catbird. How appropriate 
 were the little girl's words, who, when hearing a catbird for the first time, said: 
 ' ' What make he sing so ; do he eat flowers ' ' ? Master Robin now goes for the late 
 worm, and holding his head high, as becomes a free bird, he proudly hops along 
 the closely mown lawn, until after finding his supper he rises with a merry laughter 
 to the nearest tree. The redbird is not to be outdone, and his whistle is heard far 
 and near, while poor disconsolate Mrs. White calls loud and long for her husband, 
 Bob, to come home, a place he never seems to be. In the meantime the sun has 
 gone down and birds begin to seek their shelter. One by one their voices are 
 hushed, only the blackbirds are heard to chatter, like folks who must talk them- 
 selves to sleep. At last they too are quiet, only here and there one seems to call 
 out : "Didn't we have fun though? Are you all in bed? Be sure and be up 
 early ! Look out for the owls, ' ' etc. At last darkness covers the earth, but silence 
 does not reign, for now the owls cry for their nightly food. This unhappy bird 
 always seems to be like the soul cast into outer darkness, where its piteous cry 
 awakens sympathy. It is a remarkable fact that no bird of prey sings. So 
 people who study only the things of this world, those who selfishly prey upon 
 their fellows, generally have no music hi their souls. 
 
 No birds have musically-arranged melodies. Many of their strains have been 
 written down, and it has been found that most of them have a variety of songs. 
 Hear the robin when he has a worm in his bill, and flies before you from fence- 
 post to fence-post, in order that you may see his good luck. Hear his chal- 
 lenging sort of a chirp. Then hear the same robin when he is frightened from 
 his nest, or hear him as he gives the little robin his first flying lesson. What 
 a voice of warning, saying almost in so many words, "Don't fall ; don't go to the 
 ground ; look out for the cat," etc. Then hear the catbird when singing his best, 
 and again hear him when mewing like a cat, or listen to the jay when he blows 
 his bugle, and again when he gently calls his mate. But enough of this. The 
 finest singer there is to be found in all the winged kingdom is the nightingale. 
 This bird sings at night, which fact, it is claimed, gives to its song a peculiar 
 charm. There must, however, be something extraordinary connected with it, 
 else poets of all ages would not have sung of the nightingale. He who hears it 
 for the first time, if he has any music in his heart, will stand spellbound and 
 listen. Its singing is the most characteristic of any bird's song, it is entirely 
 unlike that of any others. Whether there is such a place as bird heaven or not, 
 I agree with a writer who said, that if he were St. Peter he would exclude no 
 bird from the blessed abode. The raven he would admit because of the poet, 
 yes, even the owls would be welcomed, and each should have a hollow tree and 
 as many mice as he could eat. 
 
 The songs of insects are numerous and varied. We hear their noises, but fail 
 to appreciate the wondrous rapidity of motion required to produce them. The 
 common house-fly, which, by the way, is said to sing always in the key of F, 
 makes 320 vibrations per second in order to produce a sound, and if this motion 
 continues only for one minute, not less than 20,000 vibrations are required. 
 When listening to this thoughtless, careless insect after walking into the spider's 
 4
 
 50 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 parlor, one doubts not in the least that it produces 20, 000 vibrations per minute. 
 How proper that the treacherous, deceitful, bloodthirsty spider should be voice- 
 less. Can any of my readers imagine what a spider's voice should be in order 
 to give expression to its character ? 
 
 Probably all of you will agree that the mosquito is the most noted singer ; it 
 never fails to arrest our attention, and it surely never fails to draw. There is, 
 however, another and far noisier visitor of our bed-rooms who makes the night 
 hideous. I mean Mr. Pinch-bug. Though he needs a bigger door to enter than 
 the mosquito, he usually manages to find a place to enter. But no sooner is he 
 in than he tries hard to get out again, and with an angry whirr and whizz he 
 explores the ceiling, giving every now and then a dart against it, as if he meant 
 to strike through and through. How delightful to lie in bed while one of these 
 chaps gives us a serenade, expecting every minute that he will fall into our very 
 face. How pleasant to the ear when at last he comes down, scraping the wall 
 with his claws, as if trying in vain to hold on. The hornet and humblebee, those 
 tigers of the air, whizz by you and actually make you dodge, as^ if they were 
 pistol balls. When the humblebee settles upon a flower he appears to me like 
 a grizzly -bearded western hunter, like an old, old bachelor trying to kiss a sweet- 
 faced young lassie. His rough yet tender tones of courtship are something 
 worthy of special notice. "What a delight it must be to be nestled between rose 
 leaves that diffuse delightful perfume, that supply sweet honey. 'Tis no wonder 
 the humblebee sings merrily when he swings to and fro in his couch of roses. 
 
 The katydid has attracted everybody's attention, and many times I asked myself : 
 What was it that Katy did ? It must have been something terrible, else they 
 would long ago have ceased telling us that Katy did. Like slanderers, these 
 tattlers keep themselves hidden, but their slandering voices are heard half a 
 mile off. Who was Katy anyway ? Was she richly dressed in satins and silks, 
 or did she go about in poor and torn garments ? Was she meek, or did she act 
 the part of a regular Tom-girl? Did she flirt and break some gentleman's heart, 
 or was she disappointed in love, and did she die of a broken heart ? What was it 
 that Katy did? 
 
 We must not neglect the frogs, it will never do. I love to hear their monoto- 
 nous song at night, for it is always a harbinger of good weather and pleasant 
 spring-tune. Don't call the frogs croakers, for they are merry fellows, cold- 
 blooded fellows though they are. Don't say that a frog's home is dreary, for 
 above him often blooms the pond-lily, while to the right and left are beautiful 
 arbors of grass, where he sits and sings to his love, good night, good night, and 
 as he looks up at the beautiful lilies, he cries, how white, how white; when the 
 moon rises he tells his lady love that there is the moon, the moon, and so Master 
 Frog goes on singing until he swells up with love and pride and becomes big, 
 until at last he is sought by some prowling fellow on account of his tender legs. 
 Then poor froggy must hang up the fiddle and the bow, and must go to the place 
 where all fat frogs have to go. 
 
 The barnyard is alive with curious and interesting voices. The most talkative 
 is the hen family. What a fuss and a noise a hen makes after the laying of an 
 egg, like many people, who never do a good act without proclaiming it to the 
 world. But listen to that same hen when quietly strolling along in search of a
 
 MUSIC OF NATURE. 51 
 
 grain of wheat, and hear how her tones pine and whine, as if saying what a bar- 
 ren world this is, with nothing to eat. Again, listen to that hen when she calls 
 her brood, and you hear a tender and yet a very commanding sort of a tone. Her 
 husband, Mr. Rooster, is still more noisy. See him as he flies on a fence, spreading 
 his wings and crowing lustily, as if he were the monarch of all he surveys. Next, 
 observe him, when finding a good morsel, how gallantly he calls the hens to par- 
 take of it. He fairly seems to say, quick, quick, here is something good to eat, 
 but if they fail to come quickly, Mr. Rooster eats the best morsel himself. 
 
 'Tis amusing to hear young piggie when waiting for his meal. What a discon- 
 tented and injured sort of a cry he has, as if saying, 'tis too bad to treat an animal 
 like myself in this sort of a way I won't stand it any longer. But come unawares 
 upon a porker and hear the ugh with which he starts off. Or hear him when a 
 dog has him by the ear. What a cry of distress. The swine family have 
 some connection with art. Louis XI, King of France, while listening to the 
 grunting of some swine, expressed the desire that a pig concert be arranged for 
 his enjoyment. His court musician at once went to work. He selected large and 
 small pigs, had them put into boxes which stood in a row. Before these he 
 fastened a keyboard, and arranged it in such a manner that by striking it pins 
 would penetrate the skin of the poor animals. All arrangements being com- 
 pleted, a pig concert was actually given at Versailles. The music is said to have 
 been very pleasing to the royal, and, I may say, piggish audience. 
 
 The horse has a merry laughter which runs through the entire scale. His 
 voice always expresses impetuosity and courage. Place by the side of it the cow's 
 lowing or the bawling of the calf, and we perceive in the difference of the cries 
 also the difference in the characters of the animals. Even Master Donkey, the 
 much-abused and wickedly despised brute, should not be forgotten in our visit to 
 the barnyard. Mrs. Partington once asked the doctor whether Ike had a musical 
 ear, and when he replied that he knew not, she requested him to take the candle 
 and see. Surely we need no candles to see donkeys' ears, and from their size one 
 ought to suppose them to be good for music. But even in this instance nature 
 seems to have given the ears without musical purposes. Jack begins with a 
 modest whistle, and then gradually rises to the top of his voice, and suddenly 
 sinks to its lowest depth. He has been honored by poets and musicians. 
 Mendelssohn imitated his beautiful cry in his "Midsummer Night's Dream." 
 But I have said enough about assinine music, though the subject is by no means 
 exhausted. 
 
 Let me tell you something about a cat organ that was built in the earlier part 
 of this century. There lived a man in Cincinnati at that time by the name of 
 Curtis, who conceived the idea of getting up a cat concert for the benefit of the 
 river men. He resided near Western Row, where cats abounded and where lie 
 had no difficulty in procuring all the specimens he needed. They had kept him 
 awake many a night, and often he threw stones, bottles and even his boot-jack at 
 them, so he thought he would try and utilize their musical powers. First he 
 made experiments with a few cats, sticking them with pins, pulling their ears, 
 etc., in order to draw out the best sounds. At last he discovered that the safest 
 way to make a cat scream was to hit its tail. Having made this discovery, be 
 gave orders to a carpenter to build him an organ, on which he was to play the
 
 52 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 accompaniment for his cats. Next, he procured the cats and trained them. He 
 placed each animal in a small box with four holes in the bottom, designed to let 
 the animal's legs hang through, to prevent it from clawing. The head was 
 fastened in a board above while the tails were enclosed in tubes upon which ham- 
 mers worked. These were connected with the keys of the organ, so that by 
 playing upon them the hammers were moved. At last Curtis was ready. He 
 had procured a perfect scale of cats' voices, from the two months' old kitten down 
 to the regular growling Tom bass. He hired the second story of a warehouse situ- 
 ated near the landing, and provided a sort of amphitheatre for his audience. At 
 the appointed day he moved all his cats safely to the hall, except the two principal 
 basses, who, being accidentally put into one box, had an awful fight on the way 
 up, and were consequently forced to appear before the audience with bloody noses 
 and rueful faces. Immense posters had been put up announcing a concert of forty- 
 eight cats, and a large crowd with a good sprinkling of boys greeted Mr. Curtis. 
 At last the curtain rose, exposing to the gaze of an eager audience two rows of 
 cats' heads glaring with lustrous yellow and green eyes. They all had little ruffles 
 around their necks. Miniature music-stands were placed before them. The two 
 basses who had a fight had their heads ornamented with muslin bands, which 
 added greatly to the gravity of their looks. At the organ sat Johnson, ready 
 to start the music, while in front of the platform stood Curtis, gravely announc- 
 ing that the first tune would be, as he pronounced it, Auld Lang Zion. 
 
 This announcement having been made, Johnson started off with his music, and 
 there were heard sounds no mortal ear ever heard before. The audience shouted 
 and stamped, which excited the fury of the cats all the more ; they forgot all 
 their lessons. They paid no attention to time or tune, to rhyme or reason ; they 
 squalled and yelled, they clawed and spit, and phizzed in the madness of pain, 
 until the sound of the organ was completely drowned. Suddenly the leather 
 strap of Johnson's organ broke. The music ceased, but the cats continued 
 then- song, until they too, one after another, became silent, winking and blink- 
 ing at the audience in fear of a repetition. The audience, however, was com- 
 pletely overcome and enchanted. Shouts arose, yells were heard, such as only 
 river men can give ; they stamped the floor until the platform not only shook, 
 but actually gave away. Then there was heard the wildest mixture of laughing 
 and swearing. Not a few were hurt by the fall, who, in their anger, began dealing 
 out blows. The boys, on the other hand, poked the cats with sticks, adding 
 greatly to the confusion. Being unable to save his pets, Curtis removed the top 
 board and gave the cats their liberty. The poor creatures at once darted off in 
 every direction, some finding their way to the floor, moving wildly between the 
 spectators' feet, while others ran over their heads or over their backs. Whoops 
 and yells, hurrahs and shouts were heard from every throat, benches were broken, 
 windows were smashed, and not a few were heard to cry FIRE ! The terrible 
 noise attracted the attention of the police, but with their best endeavors they 
 failed to gain admission. At last the old engine, Liberty, No. 3, threw a good 
 stream of water into the hall, which had the desired effect. Order was quickly 
 established and the hall was empty in an extraordinary short space of time. Thus 
 ended the first and only cat concert on record, an event which was talked of by the 
 river men for years afterward. Curtis and Johnson, of course, were brought before
 
 MUSIC OP NATURE. 53 
 
 the Mayor, but upon explaining the cause of the disturbance, his Honor heartily 
 laughed and told them never to do so again, and they didn't. 
 
 But we will dismiss the animal world and turn to the home of man. How com- 
 fortable to be seated in a warm room on a cold winter's day while the wind howls 
 and blows without. The wind, as has been said, is a great musician. He tries 
 every crevice, every crack, every loose shutter, every swinging sign, to make his 
 wild music heard, and if he cannot sing or improvise an instrument he beats the 
 drum by slamming doors and gates. The wind tries chimneys, telegraph wires, 
 in short, everything that is able to give sound he uses as his plaything. There is 
 also music in the gentle rainfall, especially when snugly settled in a warm bed in 
 some plain cabin, with the nose almost against the shingles. 
 
 When fall sets [in, how cheery sounds the crackling of the fire. Listen how 
 merrily the tea-kettle sings as you sit calmly in your rocking chair hearing the 
 cold blasts without. Hear the solemn tick of the clock speaking ceaselessly of the 
 flight of time. Ah, what good company a clock is, at times. 
 
 Having mentioned the rocking chair, I will say a few words about it. The 
 rockers produce different sounds, according to who it is that moves them. If 
 Grandma sits in the chair, knitting and swaying to and fro, the rockers keep up a 
 sort of a contented purr, a drowsy sort of creak ; but put your nervous gentleman 
 into the same chair, either the one who lives on nothing but business or the one 
 who forever wipes his hat and looks every few minutes at his watch ; the gentleman 
 who has for the tenth time tried to propose to Miss Sarah Jane, but who for the 
 tenth time failed to muster up courage ; when he sits in the rocking chair it pro- 
 duces a jerky kind of a Scotch tune. But oh, listen to that same old chair when 
 it is freighted with aunt Betsy, the good aunty who weighs well nigh on to two 
 hundred pounds. When she rocks you hear a long and melancholy whine from 
 the rockers. But listen when two or three little ones sit in it : then the old 
 chair goes whicketty whack, whicketty whack, as if enjoying the fun with the 
 children. 
 
 Having taken a general survey of nature's sounds and musicians, I invite you 
 now to the instrument which is the transition from nature to art, namely, the 
 .ZEolian harp, the instrument made by the hand of man but played upon by the 
 wind. Its tones impress me, according to the frame of mind I am in. Once 
 they sound like an angelic choir, next they sing like the sad moans of a fairy that 
 seems to be imprisoned in the little pine box. Again, they have sounded to me 
 like the wailings of a maiden who has lost a true lover, or like the secret weep- 
 ing of the mother who will not be comforted over the death of her little one. 
 They often remind me of the wind as it plays through pine trees and weeping 
 willows, growing on the graves of loved ones. Then the harp speaks to me of 
 past greatness, of the valor of knighthood, of stately castles and turreted walls. 
 While listening to those chords my mind often wanders to the far-off land of the 
 South, where oranges bloom and magnolias perfume the air. If ever there was 
 such a thing as a swan-song, it must have been as the zephyr-like tones of the 
 jEolian harp. They can paint to my mind the world in the softest and gentlest 
 tints ; they clothe it with a romance that causes me to follow them whither they 
 lead me. Oh, how they recall the ambition of the past and cause me to feel the 
 emptiness of the present. The jEolian harp sings sweetest when the gentle south
 
 54 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 wind blows, but it wails and sobs when the rough north wind sweeps over its 
 strings. 
 
 So the human heart loves best words of kindness and quickest responds to 
 them, while when rudely touched by treachery, by unkindness, by deceit, or by 
 the many adversities of life, its strings vibrate violently or break and cease to 
 sound altogether. Is there a sadder spectacle in all this world than a broken 
 heart As the harp will only produce sweet harmony when the strings are tuned 
 in unison, so will our hearts only produce sweet concord when our heart-strings 
 are tuned in unison with God's will. Let then the gentle winds of prosperity or 
 the bitter blasts of adversity blow upon us, we will at all times produce concord 
 and our lives will be to others as sweet music. 
 
 But there is one more instrument I must speak of, the freZZs, the sweet bells, 
 with their far-reaching voices. They, too, may be called voices of nature. Bells 
 exercise a far greater influence in Europe than in this country. There, people 
 usually remain all their lives in one place, and as bells are heard under many and 
 diverse circumstances, they grow deep into the people's affections. The bell 
 which calls them early in the morning to offer up their prayers always has a holy 
 tone. Often have I stood on the high banks of the river Rhine watching the 
 rising sun as it dispelled the veil of fog that rested on castles and river, and as 
 I listened to the distant church-bells of a half-dozen villages, the sweet chimes 
 turned my mind heavenward, and inwardly I said, " God bless the bells." When 
 the cheery eleven o'clock bell rang, releasing children from the school-room, horses 
 from the plough and the workman from the bench, I used to think that there 
 was not a sweeter bell in all Christendom. But when, at 12 o'clock, the Angelus 
 rang and the large bell tolled three times, and when I saw men and women stop 
 in their work, offering a silent prayer, I felt as if I had heard a voice from above. 
 Never shall I forget the sad bell which was rung every Friday at 3 o'clock, in 
 commemoration of the death of our Lord and Saviour. Often I wandered in 
 my childish mind to Calvary, while that bell rang, and viewed the uplifted cross. 
 When the solemn death-bell rang announcing the departure of a soul, it was a 
 warning voice to the living to be prepared also. But among all the bells there 
 was no one so sweet as the evening bell. Poets have often sung about it and 
 musicians were ever fond of reproducing it. Come, go with me across the deep 
 blue sea ; let us visit a German town, my native home, with its old-fashioned 
 houses nestled as closely together as if they were unable to stand alone. The 
 streets are narrow and crooked, the quaint old chimneys are inhabited by storks, 
 while around the eaves there are rows of swallows' nests, for the German deems 
 it a blessing to have birds make their dwelling under his roof. Hear the merry 
 laughter of the children playing around the town-house ; see, yonder comes a 
 weary wanderer looking for an inn where he may find rest and shelter for the 
 coming night. Farmers are now driving the cattle and horses to the creek, maid- 
 ens come to the wells for water, and their merry laughter mingles strangely with 
 the sound of the blacksmiths' anvils. Gently the curling smoke arises from chim- 
 neys, indicating that thrifty housewives are getting the evening meal ready. The 
 laborers are coming home from the fields, the sun sinks slowly in the west, when 
 suddenly there is heard the sweet evening bell calling weary laborers to rest and 
 to prayer. All villagers now offer their devotions ; the children cease playing,
 
 MUSIC OP NATURE. 55 
 
 the merry sound of the anvil is hushed, people uncover their heads, old men and 
 women reverently bow their heads, communicating silently with Him whom they 
 must soon meet in judgment. When thinking of the sweet evening bells, I say 
 God bless the bells. What can be sweeter than at eventide to hear the distant 
 chimes as the sound comes over the quiet stream. Ah, they are like sweet 
 dreams, telling the aged of youth that is past and fondly picturing to youth the 
 future that awaits him. Much more might be said concerning the significance 
 of the bell in European village life, but this must suffice. While I have for- 
 gotten the names and faces of many of those that were young with me, while 
 early impressions have been weakened by a long absence from home, I can still 
 recall the sound of the old church-bells. Whether I sit on the portico on a 
 summer evening, or watch a cozy fire in winter, if I but will, I can hear those 
 sweet bells as they ring and ring and ring, until their magic sounds sweep over 
 thousands of miles and reach the ear of the far-off wanderer. Oh, ye bells ; oh, 
 ye sweet-sounding bells ! Your never-dying voices speak to me of youth and 
 home. You are indeed true and faithful friends. As Enoch Arden, when he 
 came to the cold and chilly waters of death, beheld a vessel in his vision, and cried 
 aloud, " A sail, a sail, / am saved," and so fell back and spoke no more, so I 
 often dream that when I shall come to the brink of the river I shall hear the 
 bells, the bells of the heavenly Jerusalem, and crying out in rapture, " Ttie bells, 
 the bells, the sweet bells of heaven are ringing for me," I shah 1 fall back into the 
 arms of Him who alone is mighty to save. 
 
 As there are sentiments which the poet never expressed, as there are scenes and 
 sights as well as pictures of the imagination which no brush has as yet spread 
 upon canvas, so there are sounds in nature that arouse and convey feelings which, 
 in a certain sense, may be called music, but which have never been and never can 
 be written in the language of art. Doubtless all of you have fond recollections 
 of home and the scenes of childhood. Ah ! how eagerly the mind turns home- 
 ward, especially when for the first time away. How strong is the desire to see 
 once more a father's face and to feel again the touch of a mother's lips. What a 
 powerful feeling is this longing.for home. Oh, memory is a great artist ! It draws 
 the outlines of the loved faces and the scenes around the hallowed spot in the most 
 enchanting manner. What once seemed scarcely worthy of our notice now becomes 
 an object of our affections. Oh how great is the joy and how sweet is the hour, 
 when returning home after a long absence ! Alas, this joy was never to be mine. 
 Many years ago I left my German home, fondly hoping that some day I might 
 return to meet the loved ones again. Often I hungered for this pleasure, and a 
 thousand times I pictured to myself a happy meeting. Alas, it was not to be so. 
 I often wandered over the sea ; yes, I even felt the pressure of my father's hand 
 and heard niy mother's voice. Alas ! 'twas all a vision a mere dream. 
 
 It is but natural that such feelings should arise when contemplating home and 
 childhood. There are, however, other periods in life which make deep impressions, 
 periods rich in pleasures never to be forgotten. I refer to the time when love's 
 impulse first steals over our hearts, painting a world anew with colors too beautiful 
 to describe. These are the times when we form new home-ties, and when we for 
 a time forget even the places that first gave us shelter. The days of young love 
 are sweet to the memory ; they shed a lustre over everything connected with them ;
 
 56 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 they are days worthy of being placed by the side of our childhood's days on 
 memory's page. Oh, blessed is the heart that has loved, and twice blessed is the 
 heart that now loves. The joys of love are connected with a thousand objects 
 and incidents, and time can never efface them from recollection. They are graven 
 deeply upon the tablets of memory, and when we, perchance, walk alone or 
 sit in the twilight hour looking upon the golden lines in the West, then, as if 
 by magic, rises that tablet, and we read again the loved names and trace once 
 more the outlines of those joyous scenes long since passed away. To visit after 
 many years of absence the places in which we first loved, where we whiled away 
 our time strolling on the banks of the river, where we had many cozy chats on 
 the old rustic porch, is almost equal to a visit to the parental roof. 
 
 This pleasure I enjoyed a few years ago, when I visited Pennsylvania. The 
 friend who promised to meet me being a physician, was unexpectedly called away, 
 and it happened that I had the better part of a warm summer afternoon to 
 myself. I decided at once to visit the old church on the hill, where I used to 
 play the organ, and where I took upon myself the marriage vow. Silence reigned 
 over all that broad sweep of country, and a solemn feeling took possession of me 
 as I stepped into the old graveyard. Turning toward the village nestling at the 
 foot of the hill, I eagerly looked for the house of this or that friend, but in look- 
 ing around upon the graves I was also reminded of the fact that many of these 
 dear friends had departed from this life and were now resting in God's acre. To 
 my right and left were the graves of those who, once young and joyful, graced 
 a merry circle of friends. In my imagination I again heard the sound of the old 
 church-bell that used to call me to that hill to worship God. Again I heard the 
 choir chant, and the tones of the little organ I used to play rang loudly in my 
 ears. My heart throbbed wildly as I recounted the many changes that had since 
 then taken place. Sadly I seated myself under a pine tree, and while there musing 
 I heard the hum of many insects, and a sad, low breeze played through the pines 
 above me. Was there music in it ? yes it was music ; music which I shall never 
 forget, music that can never be written down, music inexpressibly sweet, music 
 that touches the heart to its deepest depths. I know not how long I sat there, 
 but I know that the reveries of the hour were sweet. Raising my head, my eyes 
 naturally fell upon that building where I formerly lived, and where I spent so 
 many happy years ; where I first met her who since has traveled with me on the 
 journey of life. With a sigh I said farewell to the loved friends sleeping their 
 last sleep, and started to visit the old house so hallowed in my memory. As I 
 opened the gate the sound of the old latch almost paralyzed me. Involuntarily 
 I stood and listened as if I had heard the voice of one of the friends long since 
 departed. Strange recollections crowded upon my heart as it responded to that 
 familiar click. How I used to love to hear it when friends called, but especially 
 when returning home after a long absence. Sweet gate, sweet sound, sweet 
 memory, sweet days of love 1 Years had passed, and lo ! I stood with a quiv- 
 ering heart and a trembling hand by the side of that old gate. Was there music 
 in that click? Yes, there was a power in that sound, that, like music, suddenly 
 opened the sluices of memory those sluices that had long been closed and 
 feelings and thoughts like a wild stream rushed upon me. 
 But on I went, and as I walked over the old and well-worn flagstones my steps
 
 MUSIC OP NATURE. 57 
 
 resounded as if I were walking in a vault, with the dear ones resting to the right 
 and left, and when I reached the door with its time-worn brass knocker, I scarcely 
 knew how I had come there. The sound of that old knocker seemed to come 
 out of the grave, it seemed to say, " be ready, for soon you, too, will have to 
 depart to meet your many friends." The tolling of a bell when they carry a 
 friend to the grave was not half so solemn as was the sound of that knocker. It 
 was well that no one came, for I could not have said a word, because my heart- 
 strings vibrated wildly. Was there music in the old knocker? Oh, yes, it 
 sounded like a funeral dirge. And thus I was again left to my dreams. Sadly I 
 reviewed the past, sorrowing o'er the follies of youth, and tenderly whispering 
 the names of those who used to sit with me upon the old bench on that rustic 
 porch: The dark clouds which then at times overcast my path with threatening 
 aspects, now had more than a silver lining, and sadly I said : " Short-sighted 
 mortals we are. ' ' Deep, deep into the heart goes the music of nature, for it 
 takes us out of our every-day life and leads us, as it were, up the mountain 
 from whence we may behold the distant landscape through which the journey 
 has led us. Oh, how strong the yearning once more to tread those paths so 
 wrought with youthful pleasures, and how stern and irrevocable the command to 
 pass on to the end of life's journey. Our imagination may take us there ; the 
 gale sweeping over the pleasure-grounds of youth may fan our weary brow ; alas, 
 it fails to bring us the fragrance of the flowers as once it did. As the sun of the 
 Indian summer shines in vain upon the tree that is fast losing its foliage, making 
 it glisten in untold beauty but failing to awaken new life, so is the recollection of 
 youthful pleasures to the heart that has made the larger portion of its life's journey. 
 Oh, that I were a poet, so that I might tell in fitting words what I then felt. 
 And so I left the little town and said farewell to the hallowed spot, praying that 
 peace may ever reign there, that the freshest flowers may bloom and the sweetest 
 birds forever sing where I spent so many happy days. A writer compares our 
 lives to ash-heaps, where our days lie consumed and where we have buried many 
 unrequited affections, many disappointments and sorrows. Still, we fondly stoop 
 from time to tune over this ash-heap, for there we also find many diamonds, 
 jewels of friendship and happy hours which we once enjoyed in our every-day 
 life, and the recollection of which is dear to our weary hearts. Though we can 
 no longer wear these jewels, we may at least feast our eyes upon their lustre. So, 
 though we can no longer enjoy the pleasures of youth, we may at least recall 
 them, for were it not for the pleasures of memory and hope many poor hearts 
 would break and die. 
 
 A legend says that when Adam and Eve were about to be expelled from Para- 
 dise, God pitied them, and to alleviate their sufferings while battling with life's 
 bitter blasts, He gave them a harp made of wood taken from the tree of life, 
 ordaining that its sweet sounds should ever be a relief for their sufferings. 
 Hence, it is that all human hearts are so tenderly touched by sweet music's 
 power. And the poet who listened spell-bound to the charms of song correctly 
 said: " Oh, music, thou art either a recollection of Paradise or a foretaste of 
 heaven." 
 
 Though music like a harp is not heard in the realms of nature, yet there is 
 the bird that sings, there is the wind that sighs through the pines and whistles
 
 58 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 upon reeds, there is the wave that moans, the rivulet that laughs, the thunder 
 that peals and the ocean that roars, all of them voices speaking to our hearts if 
 we will but listen. The painter loves to reproduce the beauties of nature, with 
 its mountains and rivers, the flowers and trees gorgeously clothed in rich colors. 
 He delights to paint for us the beautiful sunset, when the sunbeams melt along 
 the silent horizon and when the various colored strata of clouds seem to be like 
 so many steps upon which we may enter heaven itself. The sculptor delights to 
 portray the beauties of the human form, and, like his brother artist, goes to 
 nature to school. The poet sings sweetly of the things God made, putting a halo 
 around every object in nature. Yes, he even weaves the voices of nature into 
 fairy tales. If, then, the painter, the sculptor and the poet delight in nature 
 and its sounds, why should the musician not do the same? I have simply tried 
 to show you what a musician hears in nature, and if I played only short tunes 
 upon the several stops of this vast and mighty organ of nature, it was because 
 there are too many of them to play more. If I shall have induced any of my 
 readers to give a more willing ear to the sounds of nature, if I shall have enabled 
 any one to derive more pleasure from the beauties of nature and its music, I 
 shall feel amply repaid for my labors.
 
 HEAD AND HEART. 
 
 When speaking of head and heart I mean yours and mine, not those of a 
 select few. In our intercourse with men we deal either with their heads or their 
 hearts, generally with both at the same time. The fact that we know too little 
 of either, or, perhaps our unwillingness to regard the thoughts and feelings of 
 others, causes much unnecessary trouble in life. My subject, therefore, is a 
 profitable one for discussion, and I trust I may be able to make it equally inter- 
 esting. Pope has said, "The proper study for mankind is man." If it is useful 
 and necessary to study the sciences, it is still more so to study man, for this is the 
 deepest of sciences. We look at men's faces much as we look at the face of a 
 clock. From the one we endeavor to read character, from the other we learn the 
 tune. In neither case, however, do we think of the wonderful works that are 
 concealed behind these faces. 
 
 Everything that is noble and good springs from the heads and hearts of men, 
 and these are also the sources from whence comes all the wickedness that curses 
 the human family. Therefore, I invite your attention to some reflections upon 
 the relative influences of the head and heart upon our actions. 
 
 The head is the seat of the thinking powers. The Chinese claim this distinction 
 for the stomach. When speaking of a well read man they say, "he has eaten 
 many books." Buffon has said " The stomach is the seat of thought." Doubt- 
 less the condition of our stomachs gives coloring to our thoughts, but from this 
 it does not follow that we think with our digestive organs. Man thinks with his 
 brain ; it takes cognizance of objects, it realizes conditions and situations, it reasons 
 and concludes. When a man has but little thinking power we do not say of him 
 that he has a weak stomach, but rather that he has a thick head. When a man 
 displays great presence of mind in the hour of danger we do not say that he has a 
 cool stomach, but rather a cool head. When men are angry we do not say to them 
 keep a cool stomach, but rather keep a cool head. If a man is shrewd 
 enough to gain an advantage over his fellows we do not say that he has a long 
 stomach, but rather that he has a long head. In our common parlance, therefore, 
 we accord to the head the thinking powers. 
 
 The heart is called the seat of the emotions, but it cannot be regarded as such 
 in the same sense as we call the head the seat of the thinking powers. The heart 
 is the seat of our emotions only in a symbolic sense. The heart of flesh is merely 
 a muscular cavity through which our blood flows. As all violent emotions affect 
 the flow of blood, these, naturally enough, make themselves felt in the heart of 
 flesh, hence we call it the seat of our emotions. The emotions which quicken the 
 flow of the blood must, however, have an origin somewhere. Where do they 
 originate ? There is within us a power which prompts us to action, which pro- 
 
 59
 
 60 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 duces emotions, and this power is the will of man. This is the greatest power : 
 indeed the will is man himself! It is the will of man that is prone to evil ; it is 
 the will which shapes our final destinies. Despite the fact that the will is a most 
 dangerous power, a power which has wrought untold misery from the time of 
 Adam down to the present day, God left it free ; to destroy or to fetter it would 
 be equal to the destruction of man as a free agent. The will affects the mind, it 
 governs largely our thoughts, it is the source of all that is good and evil within 
 us. The will is responsible for our acts and not the brain, for the will gives col- 
 oring to our thoughts and actions. It is the will that is corrupt and not the brain ; 
 the latter is only in so far prone to evil, as it yields to the dictates of the will This 
 will power produces desires, it prompts us to action, it is the source of our emo- 
 tions, and it is in reality what we commonly call the heart. It is said man 
 hates, but not without a cause, for he simply wills to hate, and so we love because 
 we will to love. A bad or a good sentiment must have a bad or a good cause, 
 and the will or the heart is this cause. Commonly we speak of a bad or a good 
 heart, but in reality we mean a bad or a good will. We speak of kind-hearted 
 people, says Schopenhauer, and we mean those whose wills are favorably disposed 
 toward mankind. We speak of hard-hearted people, and we mean those whose 
 wills are unfavorably disposed toward their fellows. A broken heart is a broken 
 will, a human being without those powerful desires that are common to mankind. 
 
 We must control this will, and this duty places upon us a heavy and almost 
 frightful responsibility. Were it not so we would be blameless in the midst of 
 our evil doings. Says a famous writer, "The head is as the rudder of the ship, 
 while the heart or the will is the power that propels it. Both rudder and sail 
 are needed in order that a vessel may safely travel on the waves, so a good heart 
 and a clear head are needed in order that we may successfully pass through life. 
 
 In the animal the instinct rules supreme ; in the educated man the will rules 
 supreme. The will is the source of all evil, and, as has been said, must be gov- 
 erned and directed. It is the object of education to so train the mind that it 
 may govern and guide the will, much as a rider governs the horse. With an 
 uneducated man it is difficult to reason, for his will assumes the form of passion ; 
 he simply wills to have his own way. With an educated man we can discuss a 
 question, for the brain acts as moderator of the will or the heart. To get a good 
 education, therefore, means not merely to stock your mind with facts as men fill 
 scrap-books or pigeon-holes with items of useful information ; nay, it means the 
 strengthening of the mind, so that under all circumstances it may be a safe guide 
 to the will, so that it may under all circumstances see the ways that are wise and 
 prudent. 
 
 Men differ in their valuation of head and heart. The one is preeminently an 
 admirer of the thinking powers, and he is a man that must be convinced in order 
 that he may follow you. The other is more an admirer of the emotional man, 
 and he needs only to be persuaded to follow us without much reasoning. The 
 one yields quickest to the head, the other to the heart power. And so men 
 choose their friends, the one seeking his companion among thinking men, the 
 other among those whose hearts are the stronger parts of their natures, and all this 
 we do without any forethought or previous consideration. There are those who 
 speak lightly of the operations of a profound mind, proclaiming thought to be
 
 HEAD AND HEART. 61 
 
 cold and unfeeling, while others denounce emotional natures as weak or feminine. 
 Doubtless, thought is cold, but if it is as cold as ice it is also as clear as ice. The 
 emotions are warm but they are often unreliable, they need to be guided and 
 checked ; therefore it must be acknowledged that the heart or the will alone can 
 impart life-producing power to thought. All men admire great minds, but there 
 are those who cherish a sort of an enmity against men of superior brain power. 
 They prefer the stupid fellow who stands beneath them, to the scholar who out- 
 ranks them. In such a case the envious heart and not the brain is to blame. 
 The noble heart would rather associate with its superiors ; the low and vulgar 
 would rather be leaders among ignoramuses than followers among the wise. The 
 heart is greater than the head. The latter becomes feeble with old age, and 
 judgment is no longer reliable when men are in their dotage. According to a 
 certain writer, the mind of man is not immortal, the will, however, is. The 
 heart or the will is causeless, it operates at pleasure and remains active till the 
 end of life, hence, we speak of the " ruling passion strong in death." God does 
 not ask for our minds, but he constantly demands our hearts. He says, give me 
 thine heart, which means, give me thy will-power, let thy will be in accord with 
 mine. That we attach more importance to the heart than to the head is plain 
 from the fact that we pardon an error of the head quicker than an error of the 
 heart. We would rather be suspected of stupidity than of dishonesty. We 
 would rather be accused of an error of the head than of an error of the heart, 
 for one ounce of the heart's intentions outweighs a whole pound of the head's 
 action. Seneca" said that no action could be blameless unless the will is blame- 
 less, for the will or the heart prompts us to action. We forgive a man more 
 readily for suspecting us of stupidity than of wrong intentions, though in either 
 case we are lowered in the human standard. The reason we resent the one more 
 quickly than the other is, that a charge of ignorance does not affect our char- 
 acter and standing as much as a charge of badness of heart. If a man lacks 
 education or talents, he simply lacks that which, under more favorable circum- 
 stances, he might have attained, but if he is bad he falls below that standard of 
 morality which all men should reach. An uneducated but a kind-hearted man we 
 may take to our hearts, but no one loves an educated scamp or deceiver. 
 
 The heart or will prompts us to action, and in this it is often so powerful, quick 
 and sly that the mind is led captive before it has time to consider, before it can 
 fulfill its mission of judgment. The mind loves to be idle at times, but the heart 
 is always active. The idle mind is easiest led into evil deeds, hence the saying, 
 Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do. The busy, active brain that 
 battles with the world, that is engaged in study or scientific research, is not so 
 easily overcome by the ever-active heart in its evil promptings and sly tempta- 
 tions. The head has not the tune to listen to the heart. 
 
 Little children never think deeply, their attention can, therefore, easily be 
 diverted from one object to another, yet their wills are always active. If the 
 heart or the will becomes a great factor, if the child wills a thing decidedly, we 
 fail to divert its mind. The heart controls the head. Of such a child we say it 
 is self-willed. The dullest intellect is set to work by the will, our wants and 
 necessities drive us on, they cause us to set our wits to work, hence, the familiar 
 saying, that necessity is the mother of invention. The superiority of the heart
 
 62 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 power over that of the head may also be seen from the fact that some men's 
 appeals fall coldly upon people's ears. This is owing to the fact that the 
 speech of the one lacks emotional power while that of the other does not. The 
 fiery heart of some speakers makes itself felt in word, look and action, and the 
 hearts of the audience respond to his own. It is this heart-power that men use 
 to sway the masses to action. If it is used for the right it becomes a blessing, 
 if for the purpose of dethroning reason, or for the purpose of beclouding judg- 
 ment, it is a curse. It is the heart power that makes men leaders of others, 
 hence, when sending men on missions of persuasion we choose men of emotional 
 powers. 
 
 We imagine that the head conceives projects, but it is generally the heart that 
 does so. When the heart decides to do a thing it sets the mind to work, compel- 
 ling it to devise plans for the execution of the new scheme. The good old pro- 
 verb says, "Where there is a will there is a way. " When the mind is searching 
 out the way, we are in a brown study, we are cogitating over a thing. When 
 another man's heart proposes something aiming to set our heart to action, we 
 say, ' ' Let me sleep over it, ' ' that is, give my mind time to consider. He who fails 
 to consult his mind before acting, is hasty and inconsiderate. To enable the mind 
 to give the heart good advice is the object of education. The heart often leads 
 men into trouble by its strong promptings, and, when man finds himself in a 
 difficulty, having failed to think before he acted, we say, " He has put his foot into 
 it." If a man thus finds himself in a snare, the cowardly heart is apt to retreat, 
 it surrenders control, and appeals to the mind to find a way out of the difficulty. 
 If the mind raises its warning voice against the heart's foolish projects and 
 desires, there often follows a bitter combat between head and heart. The head 
 counsels one thing and the heart desires another. When in this condition we say 
 we are undecided, and in order that we may arrive at some conclusion we seek 
 the counsel of a friend to sit in judgment over our heart's project. We rarely 
 ever appeal to another's heart in such cases, for the heart usually is full of 
 motives, it is apt to give advice selfishly. The mind alone is unbiased. The 
 heart generally prefers that advice which is favorable to its own projects, and it is 
 apt to call him a fool who counsels the contrary. 'Tis not always easy to give 
 advice, but, as a rule, it is easier given than followed. Swift says, " No man will 
 take counsel, but every man will take money ; therefore, money is better than 
 counsel. There is a class of persons whose minds are always made up. We had 
 better say that their wills are always made up. This may show superiority of 
 mind and it may not. It more generally displays a hasty and a dogged will. 
 ' ' The heart of a hasty and self-willed man, ' ' says Schopenhauer, ' ' is like a runaway 
 horse that takes the bit between its teeth and starts off without knowing whither 
 it goes. Usually it runs on until injury is done to self or others." When the 
 heart is stubborn, and, like a runaway horse, takes the bit between its teeth, 
 the head or reason can do no more than hold to the saddle, no matter how good 
 a rider it has hitherto been. Men who are unyielding to reason are called head- 
 strong, but it is more proper to call them self-willed, for it is the heart that is 
 stubborn, not so much the mind. Try to convince a stubborn man and all your 
 arguments will fail, not because they are not good, but because his will, his heart 
 is not ready to surrender. Says the good old proverb, " Convince a man against
 
 TTF.An AND HEART. 63 
 
 his will and he is of the same opinion still." It is simply against human nature 
 to curb the will and to give up, hence, men will stand on the most untenable 
 ground and stubbornly hold fast to their expressed opinions. Stubbornness is not 
 firmness, though many mistake the one for the other. The firm man stands upon 
 a principle because it is true and correct ; the stubborn man stands upon his own 
 opinion and holds to it simply because it is his own opinion, no matter whether it 
 is true or not. The firm man is worthy of our admiration, but the stubborn man 
 deserves our contempt and pity. 'Tis no shame to give up, 'tis no disgrace to 
 acknowledge that we were in the wrong, but it is weakness to adhere to a wrong 
 opinion knowing it to be such. Some people are so conceited that they deem 
 themselves always in the right. They are your dogmatic, arrogant men, who are 
 ever ready to set up their own wills as laws for others. These are the bigots, a 
 few of whom are still running at large in this world. 
 
 I have said that the heart is sly. Let me add that it is often so deceitful that 
 it is difficult for the mind to find out the first cause for action. The old saying 
 is " The truth lies at the bottom of a well," so our motives for action lie at the 
 bottom of the heart, and it is terribly deep. Out of this depth arise promptings 
 that cause us to blush, and so indistinct at times are these motives, so difficult are 
 they to discover, that people often say they cannot understand their own feelings. 
 Is not the mind prompted at times to actions, while the heart tries its best to hide 
 the true motives ? The heart is not only a sly, but also a hasty actor. Like 
 children, we come quickly to conclusions, because it is easier for us to do what 
 we wish to do than what we are told to do. Children often do directly the 
 opposite of what they are commanded to do, simply because they would rather 
 follow their hearts' desires than your head's counsel and law. When taken to 
 account for disobedience they give it as their excuse, that they forgot ; thus you 
 will notice that they accuse the head and exonerate the heart. In the one case 
 they would have been guilty of willful disobedience, while in the other it was 
 mere thoughtlessness. It is a question worth asking, how it comes that children, 
 who know little or nothing of the operations of either head or heart, make such 
 a fine distinction when excusing themselves for not having done what they were 
 told to do. Tell a boy to saw some wood or to pull weeds on a hot summer day, 
 or order him to do some other unpleasant labor, and your command is soon for- 
 gotten, or the work, if done at all, is but poorly executed, and that simply because 
 your command was in opposition to the boy's will because his heart was not in his 
 work. But promise this boy a dime or a circus ticket, and he will remember your 
 word, simply because he desires his heart wishes to possess what you have 
 promised him. What he wills what his heart desires he has indelibly written 
 on memory's page ; what he does not wish to do he either wrote so faintly that it 
 was easily erased, or perchance he never wrote it there at all. 
 
 Youth, as a rule, yields preeminently to the heart power, hence it often hates 
 and loves without cause, and its emotions are easily swayed ; youthful love is 
 quickly turned into youthful hatred. Hence it is that youth is also often stub- 
 born, conceited, and easily roused to passion. As youth lacks the cooler reasoning 
 of older people, it is quick to judge and quick to act. Hence it is that boys come 
 so easily to blows. Youth readily attempts that from which older men shrink 
 with fear, for the riper judgment of advanced years tells them that failure is a
 
 64 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 possibility. "We learn that the heart of youth generally has accomplished the 
 great deeds recorded on history's page. Youth reasons but little, but it feels 
 intensely, and acts both quickly and inconsiderately. With older men the oppo- 
 site is the case. So common is it for youth to act without forethought that a 
 calculating and prudent boy attracts our attention, and we say of him, that he has 
 an " old head on him. " 
 
 Impulsive youth, with its energetic will, is ever ready for combat, for criticisms, 
 for daring speculations, but when riper years come men do not trust themselves 
 so freely. Said a farmer "When I was twenty-five years of age I felt that I 
 needed no man's advice. It never occurred to me to ask my father what he 
 thought of my enterprises. When I was thirty years old I would sometimes ask 
 Father, just to see whether he would approve of my ideas. At the age of thirty- 
 five I was in the habit of asking my father's advice, while at the age of forty I 
 never undertook anything without first seeking counsel." What mistakes the 
 farmer might have avoided had he done at twenty-five what he finally did at 
 forty. 
 
 That the heart rules the intellect is plain from the fact, that when a friend is 
 in trouble we tell him to drive unpleasant thoughts out of his mind. The question 
 now is, who is to drive the unpleasant thoughts out ? When we change the cur- 
 rent of our thoughts we do so in obedience to the will-power, and not so much 
 through the action of the mind itself. Luther said "I can no more prevent 
 thoughts from arising in my mind than I can prevent birds from flying over my 
 head ; but I need not allow them to make their nests in my hair." 
 
 Great minds we admire, but great and noble hearts we love. Great intellects 
 and powerful hearts do not always go together ; they are not often found united 
 in one person. It is always unsafe to judge of the head from the heart, and vice 
 versa. Stupidity does not presuppose vice, nor is great learning a sure indication 
 of virtue. We all love to be associated with kind-hearted people, but, says a 
 writer, while we admire men and women of strong minds and powerful wills, we 
 prefer to look at them as we look at lions and tigers in a menagerie ; none of us 
 would like to be locked up with them. Great hearts make great leaders of men ; 
 great minds are the thinkers, the revolutionizers of the social and political affairs 
 of the human family. They are the men who see what the world really is, while 
 heart-people usually see it through the lens of their emotions. 
 
 The masses are easiest moved by the heart, for men usually like persuasion 
 better than conviction, but conviction in the end is always more enduring in its 
 effects. 
 
 There are found everywhere good-hearted people who lack culture. They are 
 as rough diamonds, which, if they were cut (that is educated) and set in the 
 surroundings of refinement would be more useful citizens ; they would enjoy life 
 more. 
 
 Man's emotions often are the source of his troubles. Imagine two men con- 
 versing on politics or religion, or perhaps they are arguing a question of property 
 right. As long as the head rules, the parties are calm and dignified in their dis- 
 cussion, for the mind acts as a moderator the mind is chairman. How appro- 
 priate the use of this word moderator, when applied to presiding officers. But 
 watch these men when the heart begins to take part in the discussion. Notice
 
 HEAD AND HEART. 65 
 
 Low the voice changes, see the flushed cheeks, observe the increasing state of 
 irritation ! Unless the two will soon part there is danger of hearing bitter words. 
 When two men discuss politics at ordinary times they can do so with calmness, 
 but during a hot campaign the best of friends sometimes fall out, and that because 
 the heart takes part iu the discussion, while at ordinary times it does not. When 
 arguing in the court-room, the lawyer whose mind rules supreme usually keeps 
 calm, but the advocate whose heart is a powerful factor in the case becomes 
 easily excited and even angry. Then it is that his adversaries taunt him by 
 saying, keep your head cool ; don't lose your balance. In a well educated man 
 head and heart are equally trained ; they are balancing each other like the two 
 sides of the scales. If the heart swells up with pride or becomes turbulent with 
 anger it outweighs the head, and thus it is correct to say of such a man, that he 
 has lost his balance. There are men who purposely make others angry, for then 
 men's tongues go off like guns that are half-cocked. When in anger reason loses 
 its control, and men then reveal secrets which hi calmer moments they never 
 would divulge. 
 
 So skillful lawyers sometimes endeavor to arouse the'anger of their adversaries 
 or of troublesome witnesses, and that for no less reason than to weaken their 
 judgment and to cause them to say that which might injure their cases. On the 
 other hand, many lawyers pretend to become excited, in order to make their clients 
 believe that their hearts are deeply engaged in their cases. Ministers, too, often 
 become unduly excited while preaching the gospel of peace and love ; their hearts 
 run away with their heads. Indeed, I have heard a certain great divine say that 
 when he was least prepared for his sermon he generally became most excited and 
 spoke loudest When man thus yields to his emotions and allows them to run 
 away, the mind becomes clouded like muddy water, or, to use another illustration, 
 head and heart are like a ship in a dense fog, there is no telling when or where 
 they may collide one with the other. 
 
 Thus we see that the reasoning powers, through education become, as it were, 
 a lever that keeps the heart's passions in their proper channel. But if this lever 
 breaks, if the passions leave their bounds, what destruction follows ! Then men 
 commit foul deeds. As the muddy waters of a flood leave their marks upon the 
 inundated land, so the frequent outbursts of the passions leave their stains upon 
 the human mind and character. If the passions of a whole community break 
 through the levee of reason and law we have the mob, the deeds of which are 
 unaccountable. Then men resort to lynch law, and commit violence against those 
 who are suspected of wrong doing. Thus we see that lynch law yields to the 
 heart and its passions, while in the court-room reason alone prevails, or ought to 
 prevail. In a university it sometimes happens that some of the students deem 
 themselves wronged by a rule which, in their estimation, has a tinge of injustice. 
 Straightway a wave of excitement and passion rolls over the school, reason is 
 clouded, while only a few keep their heads clear. But strange to say, those few, 
 who take in the real condition of things, are always denounced as the weak-kneed 
 ones. 
 
 A prejudiced heart beclouds the mind, so that it fails to see things in their true 
 light. The heart has bribed the head, and the head argues falsely in order to 
 please the heart. Thus the prejudiced heart regards'that as ugly which in reality 
 5
 
 66 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 is pretty ; it pronounces that to be mean which is good. The selfish heart, too, 
 beclouds the mind. Selfishness is like a thick veil which prevents the mind from 
 looking beyond its own interests. There are men who can see nothing beyond 
 their noses, except it be a a shining dollar or a promissory note. The selfish 
 heart is a mean heart, but the meanest of all hearts is the malicious heart, 
 the one that rejoices over the misery of others. It is sad to think that a human 
 heart can shrivel up to such a degree that all sympathy is obliterated. Public 
 judgment is unreliable in matters of art and learning, but in matters of morality 
 it hardly ever goes far astray. Thus the selfish man is quickly known and sincerely 
 despised. The suspicious and jealous heart is a petty little heart. Such a heart 
 is never at rest, it is its own torment. 
 
 How many hearts are guilty of pride ! It is the heart first that is guilty of this 
 weakness, and when the heart of a man is thoroughly filled with it then it affects 
 the head, and we say that pride has turned his head ; that is, it has dethroned 
 reason. Oh, what is there in this life to make man proud? Is it good looks? If 
 so, how long will these endure? Are we proud of learning? Remember that no 
 matter how far we advance upon the road of knowledge, there has, after all, been 
 but little accomplished, and much remains to be done. No matter how great we 
 may be, there are others who are our equals and superiors. Are we proud of 
 wealth ? How foolish ! Have not gamblers, thieves, and dishonest speculators 
 great possessions also? Are you proud of social standing? Remember, the grave 
 levels all, and even here on earth many an humble man who is socially not much 
 regarded, weighs more in the scale of public opinion than you with all your proud, 
 high social standing and family connections. Pride may be a virtue usually it 
 is a vice. Keep it out of the heart. When sending a man on an important 
 errand we say, try to get on the right side of him whom you are to see that is, 
 try and reach his heart ; seek to obtain control over his will. This leads men to 
 use flattery, a dish of which the average heart is exceedingly fond. The flatterer 
 is a deceiver ; his potion is designed to destroy the action of the mind ; it intoxi- 
 cates the will. No honest man stoops to flattery. 
 
 People with strong emotional natures usually are very impulsive ; people with 
 great brain power often are freezingly cold. Despite their excitability we would 
 rather trust heart people, for they exhibit their natures, we can read their dis- 
 positions, while it is very difficult to read the character of purely brain people. 
 The heart usually makes the deepest impression upon our faces, and the Ger- 
 mans are correct when they say that in the eye lies the heart. I would at any 
 time trust facial expression as a key to character more than language. Words 
 are often used as a means of deception, and if but sparingly used we have no 
 means of knowing whether such people may be trusted. 
 
 This corruption of the human heart is no invention of mine. Ever since philoso- 
 phers have studied man has the proneness of the human heart to evil attracted 
 attention ; nay, more, many of them have diligently sought for a remedy. Men 
 have earnestly endeavored to subdue and to deny the will, hence, they entered 
 monasteries, they chastised their bodies, they educated the mind, they lived in 
 poverty and solitude, but while they have attained great self-control they have 
 not succeeded in clianging the heart. Thus, you perceive that philosophy and 
 religion teach the same doctrines concerning men's hearts, but they differ in
 
 HEAD AND HEART. 67 
 
 their remedies. Religion teaches that the divine power alone which made the 
 will can change it, and this is the doctrine of regeneration. 
 
 The heart of man is the same in all climes and ages the Bible being the story 
 of the human heart, is, therefore, suited to all climes and ages. So music, being 
 the language of the heart, is practiced by all nations and tribes. When preach- 
 ing religious truths always appeal to the whole man, both to head and heart. 
 Religion is not exclusively emotional, neither is it purely thought. While the 
 church frequently appeals too exclusively to the emotional man, our public 
 schools, in many places, go to the other extreme by cultivating the mind only. 
 The true educational plan is to see to the wants of the whole child, those of head, 
 heart and body. 
 
 Doubtless, the home and Sabbath school are the places where heart culture 
 should begin, but for all that our public schools have a great work to do in this 
 direction. There are many means at the teacher's command designed to develop 
 the child's heart power. The love element is a great aid in governing a school, 
 and the teacher who cultivates this element has fewer cases of discipline and does 
 better work. Men who have made horses a study have long taught the lesson 
 that the best mode of breaking a colt is to use kindness. Alas, in many homes 
 and schools children are not treated as well as colts or horses. Many parents and 
 teachers commit the unpardonable blunder of trying to break the child's will 
 rather than strengthen it and guide it, so that it may choose that which is good. 
 Many parents punish only when angry. What good can come from such disci- 
 pline ? What can a teacher do with children who have grown up at home almost 
 like wild animals, whose hearts are mere waste places? For all that, it is my 
 opinion, based upon experience, that every heart may be reached and led if the 
 proper means are used, and I give it as my decided opinion that the teacher who 
 fails at least to aim at establishing a love atmosphere in his school-room falls 
 short of his mission, no matter how well qualified he may be to impart instruc- 
 tion. The same is true of parents and homes. Education alone cannot make a 
 perfectly good heart out of a bad one, but education and proper training doubt- 
 less improves it. Education is always advantageous to morality, but book-learn- 
 ing alone cannot bring it about. Men may be thought to understand the Bible 
 and the best theology and at the same time be rascals at heart. 
 
 It would be terrible if all heart-training were neglected. If it were, who could 
 abide here on earth? Of the few virtues we can notice the first is friendship. 
 This is a plant which grows only in a good heart. Friendship is more than a 
 mere attachment, its roots strike deeper than mere liking, and it is as different from 
 mere acquaintanceship, as night is different from the day. It is a jewel well 
 spoken of by the Bible and is highly praised by the philosophers. Would you 
 call your friend a iosoni-friend, let the heart choose him, but let the head decide 
 whether you have wisely chosen. 
 
 Would you retain the friendship of one whom you have taken to your heart, 
 let the head teach you how to keep him. To disturb the friendship of two per- 
 sons is one of the lowest things man can do. Most men can be lovers, but it is 
 not given to all to be good friends. Most men like to win the friendship of others, 
 but they are not quite so ready to bestow their own. Ask not for that which you 
 cannot return. Those who attempt to buy the friendship of others show what a
 
 68 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 low estimate they place upon their own. Tell me who your friends are and I will 
 tell you what manner of a man you are. Blessed is the heart than can boast of 
 a true friend, but the heart that knows not true friendship misses much of the 
 joy this world has in store for us. 
 
 Charity sweet charity who can sing thy praises better than the Bible? 
 Floods, fires, earthquakes, pestilence, poverty, are indeed great afflictions, but 
 these evils are more than counterbalanced by the deeds of charity they call forth. 
 The heart must propose acts of charity, else giving or doing is not charity. But 
 while the heart proposes acts of charity the head should sit in judgment over 
 these acts. You may waste a fortune by giving and not bestow good charity. Ill- 
 bestowed gifts and unwise assistance are not charity. 
 
 The spirit of forgiveness is indeed a noble one, and I often think that he who 
 can and does forgive an injury has done more than he who has given away much 
 money. He, however, who is unwilling to forgive, as a great man said, burns 
 down behind him the bridge over which he himself will eventually wish to cross. 
 The Lord's prayer says: "Forgive, as we forgive." It is the heart that must 
 forgive, and it is the heart that cherishes enmity, not the head. 
 
 Patriotism is one of the noblest virtues of the human heart. He who is 
 devoid of it is worthy of that detestation with which all right-minded men regard 
 him. But I must not lengthen my paper by enumerating the heart's virtues. 
 
 I [must touch on a subject which ever has been and ever will be of extraordi- 
 nary interest to the human family. I mean love and marriage. They should be 
 affairs both of head and heart, and not of one alone. Love, so say the philoso- 
 phers, makes men blind, and blind people are always exposed to dangers. Purely 
 heart matches, that is, genuine love affairs, are liable to be stormy, for it is diffi- 
 cult to get along with people whose hearts rule supreme. Head marriages, on 
 the other hand, are mere convenience matches, they are often selfish, they lack 
 the true elements of love, hence, every thing that transpires in such families rests 
 upon the basis of cold politeness. The heads of the two contracting parties rule 
 all their actions ; the heart-fire does not burn, hence, there prevails an even but 
 also a cool temperature of mere civility. Such marriages usually are calm, but 
 they lack the noblest sentiment, the noblest fire, one spark of which compen- 
 sates for a good-size family broil I have said that love makes men blind, which 
 means that the heart refuses to hear reason. Says a great poet : 
 
 " To be wise and love 
 
 Exceeds men's might." 
 Shakespeare says : 
 
 " Love is blind, and lovers cannot see 
 The pretty follies they themselves commit.'" 
 
 In another place the immortal William says : 
 
 "Men's vows are women's traitors." 
 
 But, then, dear woman loves to listen to these vows ; woman's ear is generally 
 open to the lover's smooth tongue, and knowing how attentively it is listened 
 to, it rattles off words which in a calmer moment would be regarded as evi- 
 dences of insanity or foolhardiness. Still, love's language is delightful to utter
 
 HEAD AND HEART. 69 
 
 and to listen to. While I do not condemn it indiscriminately, I make free to say 
 that much of it deserves to be branded as mere lies, or, at best, as a pack of 
 exaggerations. 
 
 People that are in love are not at all disposed to listen to the language of 
 reason, not even to that of their parents. This often leads to runaway matches 
 and to unwise unions. At last calmer days come, when reason assumes control, 
 and then the head brings a bill of indictment against the heart. Then follow 
 tears and lamentations, and the fact is realized that two blind lovers ought to 
 have considered the results before acting. By all means love when you are about 
 to marry, but let me advise you not to trust the heart alone it is not worthy of 
 such confidence. Give the head a little show, also. 
 
 The heart-power is indeed great. It is that which makes the world either 
 better or worse. Oh, what have great men not said about love ? How many 
 dramas, poems and novels have been written, how many pictures have been 
 painted and songs composed, all of them setting forth the ever fresh theme of 
 human love ? Though we have heard the story time and again, it is always 
 interesting whenever it is presented to us in new forms. He who has loved hears 
 in these tales an echo of his own passion, he who has not yet loved hopes some 
 day to be swayed by its magic power. Even idle gossipers seem to take a special 
 delight in discussing other people's love affairs, and perhaps some of you know 
 from experience how exasperating it is to be watched in one's courtship while we 
 imagine our tracks to be well covered. Men usually take it more seriously with 
 love before they are married, ladies take it seriously throughout life. Men's love 
 seems sometimes to have cooled off after marriage, yet such, upon close exam- 
 ination, would be found to be untrue. 
 
 Man yields more to the brain than to the heart ; he is more a creature of 
 interest and ambition, says Washington Irving. His nature leads him forth into 
 the struggle and bustle of life. Love is but the establishment of his early life, 
 or a song piped in the intervals of the act. He seeks for fame, for fortune, for 
 space in the world's thoughts, and dominion over his fellow-man. But a true 
 woman's whole life is the story of her affections. The heart is her whole world. 
 It is there her ambition strives for empire ; it is there her avarice seeks for 
 hidden treasures. She sends forth her sympathies on adventure ; she embarks 
 her whole soul in the traffic of affection, and if shipwrecked her case is hopeless, 
 for it is a bankruptcy of the heart. Says Byron : 
 
 "Man's love is of man's life a thing, a part, 
 'Tis woman's whole existence." 
 
 Man reasons, woman judges by intuition. The love-power is the lever that 
 lifts mankind to a higher plane, and sweet woman is its representative. I 
 mean now that pure and noble love for all mankind ; that love which is one-half 
 of religion. Woman is this love-power ; she is the heart element of the 
 human family. If woman loves the pure and the good she is a part of 
 that great moral power that moves the world upward, but, if she loves the 
 evil she is apt to sink lower than man, and she is almost sure to drag everything 
 down that comes in contact with her. Man, as a rule, stands lower in the scale of 
 morality than woman, but he will have to take many steps in order to reach that
 
 70 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 point of degradation which a woman may reach with one step. Says a writer 
 "Woman comes into the world with higher ideas than man, but she often goes 
 out with lower." Woman's love-power is the loadstone of the world : it attracts 
 that which is good and repels that which is evil. The words mother and wife 
 are two of the dearest words in our language, and as woman's domain is home, 
 the words Home, sweet Jumie, have a sweet ring in our ears. It is woman's 
 heart-power that subdues the rudeness of men where other remedies seem to fail, 
 hence we notice often that rowdies try to act the part of gentlemen when coming 
 into the presence of a refined woman. When gold was discovered in California, 
 men rushed wildly to the places where the precious dust was found ; there was 
 no place for woman in those earlier settlements, and as the miners were deprived 
 of her influence they often sank to a state of degradation that was shocking. 
 When, at a later period, a settler brought his wife along, we are told that men 
 came for miles just to see her face. What was it that attracted them ? It was 
 woman's love-power, that looks out of her gentle eyes. Man's heart turns to it 
 as the needle turns toward the north. It is always good for man to come in con- 
 tact with the character of pure women. Did not our Saviour love Mary and 
 Martha? The best friends young people can have are their mothers ; those who 
 neglect this friendship surely are not worthy of other friends. Woman's love- 
 power is the strength of the church and the mission ; it is a blessing in the school- 
 room and the sick chamber. Deprive the church or the cause of missions of 
 woman's influence and see what the result will be. Pure woman's heart is as the 
 sun of life, under whose benign influences all good causes develop ; it is as a burn- 
 ing torch that kindles love's fire wherever its sparks fall To kindle love, to keep 
 its fires burning, to make this world better through love, this is woman's mission. 
 Every true man loves her when she is true to this mission. All right-minded men 
 love woman's heart-power, but most men cease to love woman when she substi- 
 tutes superiority of the head for that of the heart. A woman who suppresses 
 the heart-power, a woman who aims to rule by force of thought a strong-minded 
 woman a "blue stocking," if you please puts herself out of the ranks of 
 women and places herself on the side of the sterner sex. Sensible men advocate 
 woman's highest possible culture. Yes, let her write books, paint pictures, carve 
 statues ; open to her all those avenues in life for self-support that are suited to 
 her capacity and strength, but never let her unsex herself by substituting superi- 
 ority of the head for that of the heart. 
 
 It has been said that man is more a creature of head than heart. Says a writer, 
 "He must battle with life, he must develop his wits, he must often be stern 
 and cold ; he meets with many rebuffs in life, much unjust and severe criticism is 
 meted out to him, all of which tends to make him hard-hearted and selfish." Is 
 it a wonder that men love to return home in the evening, there to rekindle their 
 own love-power? Alas, what strange altars some women erect in their homes, on 
 whose fires they expect their husbands to rekindle their love-powers which have 
 been checked during a weary day's toil ! The tattling woman, who regales her 
 husband's ears with idle society gossip, the contentious woman, whose words are 
 as a consuming fire, are still to be found. Such women have driven many men 
 out of house and home, and have forced them to seek relief in the intoxicating 
 cup. On the other hand, how much love-power is wasted in homes where hus-
 
 HEAD AND HEART. 71 
 
 bands fail to appreciate woman's mission and character. Happy is the home that 
 is presided over by a loving woman, but thrice cursed is the family which is tor- 
 mented by a contentious, fault-finding, unwomanly woman. 
 
 When looking for wives men are too often influenced by wealth and beauty, and 
 not sufficiently by character. Remember good looks vanish, and woe to him who 
 has staked his all on a beautiful face ! There is a nobler beauty than that of the 
 face ; I mean the beauty of the heart, which never fades, and which makes an 
 aged countenance, wrinkled all over, appear at times more beautiful than that of 
 a maiden of sweet sixteen. The heart that has cultivated love and peace looks 
 out of a loving and peaceful face, and so the passionate heart, ready to burst out 
 in anger, the heart full of cunning and deceit, reveals its own character on the face. 
 He, therefore, who marries a good heart will ever deem his wife pretty, for the 
 heart beauty cannot fade. 
 
 It would seem impossible to mention anything in connection with human exist- 
 ence that is heartless and headless, yet flirting comes under this head. Do not 
 indulge in it ; it is foolish and bad ; no good comes out of it. Would that woman 
 could realize the fact that she is the greater sufferer from this senseless amusement. 
 Man is a rougher creature, hence he can stand such sports much better than deli- 
 cate woman. The flirt's heart is like a garden-spot that has been burned all over, 
 until not a pretty flower will grow upon it again. Young men who indulge in 
 flirtations are as stupid and giddy flies that find a dish of honey standing about. 
 They come and taste, fly off, and come again, until at last, being too full of sweet- 
 ness, they fall in and are caught. See the thoughtless fly as it slowly crawls out 
 of a dish of honey. Is it not an object of pity and ridicule ? See how it moves 
 slowly on, covered with sweetness. That which it once enjoyed has now robbed 
 it of its freedom. So appears to me the young man who has been caught by a 
 flirt ; who has been made a husband against his will. A philosopher once said 
 that men in matrimonial matters are like flies on the window those that are in 
 try to get out, those that are out try to get in. But the woman who thus led him 
 to speak harshly of the marriage relation must either have been a shrew or a flirt, 
 for man can love neither. 
 
 Young ladies and gentlemen beware of flirts, for they indulge in heartless and 
 brainless sport. Seek the good heart, it alone keeps the affections warm, it alone 
 brings happiness and is able to endure the trials of life. 
 
 The heart brings men together, thought, or the brain, drives them asunder, 
 All differences in religion spring from the head. The heart, or the love of Christ, 
 brings all Christians together. It is the head that drives political parties asunder, 
 but the heart the love for country and the flag unites ah 1 citizens in its defence. 
 We speak of a republic of letters, and thus we learn that the head, or learning, 
 unites us like citizens of one country, but we also speak of the brotherhood of man, 
 showing us that the heart the love for mankind unites us as members of one 
 family. He who realizes this principle of the brotherhood of man, and lives up 
 to it, has gone a great way toward the love of God. He, however, who does not 
 love his fellow-man, has no right to say that he loves his God. 
 
 I have laid before you some reflections upon head and heart, and now that I 
 have finished my task I feel that the theme is too great to be treated effectively 
 in a lecture. I have pictured the human heart in colors that are not flattering
 
 72 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 to it. In doing so I have spoken not only from experience and observation, nay, 
 I have higher authority than this, for the Word of God pronounces the heart 
 deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. I have shown you how low 
 the heart may sink, I have disclosed to you its own dirty bottom, so as to put you 
 on your guard against its wiles. On the other hand, I have shown you also some 
 of its good sides its capabilities so that you may not be discouraged, but seek 
 to rise and to move onward on the path of duty. 
 
 Hear, then, the conclusion of all. Lessing said: "Build up within you a 
 dominion in which you may be kings and subjects at the same time, for the only 
 possessions which you may govern are your hearts." Finally, hear a familiar old 
 word one that is ever true a text, which, had I preached a sermon, would have 
 been placed at the head of my discourse, but which I now place at its close, so 
 that it may make all the deeper impression, namely : "Keep thy heart with aU 
 diligence, for out of it are the issues of Life.' 1
 
 THE SANCTITY OF MUSIC. 
 
 I have chosen the subject of the sanctity of music for the purpose of impressing 
 your minds with the importance and the seriousness of your work. No one of 
 the arts is so popular, no one is so generally practiced, as the art of music, yet not 
 one is as much abused as it, and that for the reason that its high meaning is but 
 little understood, not only by the masses, but even by musical students and teach- 
 ers. The art is used too much as an amusement, as an exhibition of skill, as a 
 means of attracting attention, and too little as a means of education. Musicians 
 often revel in their art, they even worship it, but they fail to go beyond the 
 pleasurable sensations produced by it. Music is a means of culture ; it is one of 
 the greatest, and perhaps the greatest factor in human civilization. Not until 
 men shall use the art with the spirit of reverence will it exercise those powers for 
 which it is designed. The present generation of philosophers and teachers are only 
 beginning to search for the real meaning and explanation of the art, and they 
 have not advanced sufficiently to answer even these simple questions : What is 
 music ? Wherein consists its great power? Many definitions of music have been 
 given, but they, without an exception, are imperfect. I desire to show you that 
 there is a higher meaning and a loftier purpose attached to this mysterious art, 
 and for this reason I shall review it from various standpoints. 
 
 Nearly every one will agree with me that a revelation was necessary for the 
 progress of true civilization. Learning alone does not, and cannot, bring about 
 this result, nor could the arts alone accomplish it. He who studies the influence 
 of Christianity must confess that something higher than human learning was 
 required to advance the world. The ancients certainly were profound thinkers. 
 The philosophers of Greece, at least, had reached a high degree of learning, and 
 no one would deny that Hellas enjoyed an unusual degree of art culture. In 
 many particulars we must still go to them for instruction. Yet, despite the fact 
 that these great men had made great advancement toward the horizon of human 
 learning, in philosophy at least, the best of them felt that something else, some- 
 thing higher, was needed to explain life. Moreover, their wisdom failed to reach 
 the masses ; it was designed for scholars only, and it could not benefit the people. 
 It must be acknowledged that human wisdom and speculation came to a limit, as 
 it always must when it attempts to fathom the infinite. Human learning is 
 profound, but, despite its depth, it leaves the mind unsatisfied. There is a uni- 
 versal longing to look into the beyond, a desire for progress, a cry for relief from 
 oppression, from sin, a wish for a higher existence. This yearning and longing 
 could only be satisfied through revelation; hence, the tremendous power of 
 Christianity ; hence, its ability to satisfy and to reach the masses ; hence, the 
 devotion of its followers, the swiftness of its progress, and that, too, despite the 
 
 73
 
 74 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 most violent opposition. Compare the poor fishermen with the Grecian philoso- 
 phers as regards their learning, and it must at once appear as a surprising fact 
 that these unlearned preachers revolutionized the world, while the deep learning 
 of the philosophers failed to do so. Their divine doctrines fell upon human hearts, 
 as gentle rain falls upon parched ground. 
 
 Compare the Apostles with a Socrates, an Aristotle, a Plato, or a Pythagoras, 
 and then ask the question, Whence comes their great power ? How is it that 
 these simple men, who lived in want and poverty, who were untutored, aroused 
 Greece and Rome, while these great philosophers failed to do so. A great philoso- 
 pher teaches that the human mind has a methaphysical want, yet metaphysics 
 has never become a panacea for the world. He should have said that the human 
 mind has an inborn desire for revelation. 
 
 Something else was needed, and this something was revelation. Through it 
 alone the human family could reach its present state of civilization. The world 
 was ready for its reception, hence it spread most rapidly, despite the slowness of 
 communication between states and countries. In its onward course it had not the aid 
 of the sword to hew a way for it, it was not protected by the strong arm of govern- 
 ment ; on the contrary, it was opposed by those in power. Yet Christianity seized 
 upon the human mind and heart, it revolutionized the masses, it improved their 
 conditions, and why ? Simply because of its supernatural powers. How many 
 lives were lost in the establishing and maintaining of the Roman Empire ? How 
 many cruel deeds were committed in aid of Islamism ? yet the new doctrines 
 spread, despite the fact that their adherents were often compelled to surrender 
 life. Hellenic, Roman, Egyptian, Persian, Hindoo and Arabic culture was pro- 
 tected by the strong arm of the government, and by the mystic power of the 
 priesthood, yet it failed to reach the people ; it never elevated them ; Christian 
 preachers, however, proclaimed the gospel and the poor accepted it, because it filled 
 the aching void of their hearts ; because they had faith in the new doctrines and 
 their indestructibility. Man's attempts at civilization were a failure, and now 
 God took up the work. Men had sunk into a state of degradation ; the race 
 was oppressed and tyrannized. Had not the Grecians claimed that all non-Hellens 
 were barbarians, and that they were bora to serve ? Did not Rome foster slavery ? 
 Did she not indulge in all manner of cruelties and subtle immoralities? Men 
 were regarded as cattle, and woman occupied an extremely low position. The 
 bonds that kept the masses in a state of low degradation and subjection were strong, 
 and mankind cried for relief. How appropriately Handel begins the Oratorio of the 
 Messiah with these words : " Comfort ye my people, saith your God ; speak com- 
 fortingly to Jerusalem, and cry unto her that her warfare is accomplished, that her 
 iniquity is pardoned. Prepare ye the way of the Lord ; make straight in the 
 desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be exalted and every mountain 
 and hill made low, the crooked straight and the rough places plain. And the 
 glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together, for the 
 mouth of the Lord hath spoken it." The promised relief came, and it was 
 ushered in through revelation and not through philosophy. No one who believes 
 in Christianity will deny that it is the foundation-stone of modern civilization, 
 and that it must finally be its capstone. Let rationalists say what they will, 
 this fact is true, that urithont Christianity our civilization would not be what it
 
 THE SANCTITY OP MUSIC. 75 
 
 is. The world had its Buddha, its Confucius, its Zoroaster ; it had the great 
 thinkers of Egypt, Greece and Rome ; yet, what was the condition of the world 
 at the time when Christ came ? Christianity is the kernel out of which our 
 civilization grew. If this is not true, why did the human family fail to reach it 
 after centuries of struggle ? Only through revelation, with Christ as its centre, 
 could the human family rise to the present high state of culture. 
 
 But what has all this to do with music ? Let us see ! It is a significant fact, 
 that the good book is full of allusions to music. If there is nothing contained in 
 holy writ that is not of importance to man, if it contains the much needed reve- 
 lation, why these repeated references and allusions to music? Why is music used 
 in connection with many important events ? From the book of Genesis to Reve- 
 lation music is mentioned. This fact is not without meaning, nay, it attaches a 
 great importance to our beloved art which no other enjoys. That there is a close 
 connection between religion and music is a fact too often overlooked or even 
 denied by many musicians ; yet it is nevertheless true. I am happy to state, 
 however, that the number of those who view our art in its proper relations, is 
 constantly on the increase. In its relations to religion music attains its highest 
 meaning. This does not imply that all music must be wedded to sacred texts, or 
 that it is to be used in connection with worship, but that all pure art, and hence 
 all pure art music, is sacred or religious in its character and mission. If the 
 Bible is the foundation of our present civilization, music has, undoubtedly, a most 
 important mission to perform in this work. This is not a popular idea among 
 those who make music its own finality ; yet we firmly believe, that eventually this 
 will be the common view taken of art in general, and especially of music. Who 
 can doubt that music, when it is practiced in this spirit, reaches its true meaning. 
 
 Next to religion, music is one of the greatest civilizing powers. You cannot 
 point to a nation that is totally devoid of religious ideas, neither can you discover 
 even a small tribe, be it ever so crude in its customs, but has its music. Where- 
 ever religion has a foothold, there music is found. There is an inborn love for 
 song in all men. The power of music is so great, that in the legends of all 
 nations, the invention of the art is ascribed to the gods. Among the children 
 of Israel music was used only in connection with worship, and is it unreasonable 
 to believe that there will come a time when all art practices will be worship ? 
 
 In the fourth chapter of the book of Genesis, the invention of music is recorded. 
 If music is merely a plaything, if it is merely an amusement, merely a means to 
 arouse pleasant emotions, if it has not a higher mission, why does the book of 
 God mention its origin ? Is the creation or origin of any other art recorded ? 
 That the power of music was early felt and appreciated, is evident from the fact 
 that David played before Saul to drive away the evil spirit. Is the Bible true, or 
 is it merely a myth ? If it is the truth, does this instance not show that what 
 Luther said is true also, namely, that the devil hates music. Now it is a natural 
 question for a musician to ask, why was music used to drive away the evil spirit ? 
 Why were not prayers, exhortations and incantations used in order to accomplish 
 this work of mercy? The Germans say that where they sing, there you may 
 safely rest, for bad people have no songs. Of course, bad people sing, but they 
 sing not with the spirit of love, which, as I shall show you, is the one power that 
 must underlie all musical practices.
 
 76 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 In Second Chronicles, chapter five, we read, that when the Levitea were 
 ' ' arrayed in white linen, having cymbals and psalteries and harps, ' ' and when they 
 "stood at the east end of the altar, and with them the 120 priests, sounding with 
 trumpets, it came to pass, as the trumpeters and singers were as one to make one 
 sound, to be heard in praising and thanking the Lord, and when they lifted up 
 their voices with the trumpets and cymbals and instruments of music, and praised 
 the Lord, saying (or singing), ' For he is good, for his mercy endureth forever,' 
 that then the house was filled with a cloud, even the house of the Lord, so that 
 the priests could not stand to minister by reason of the cloud, for the glory of the 
 Lord filled the house of God." This is a divine manifestation, but why did it 
 occur during a musical performance; why not during the offering of sacrifices, or 
 during the act of prayer ; why did it not occur during the act of placing the 
 ark in the temple? Does not this divine manifestation attach a great and a 
 serious importance to our art ? 
 
 But still another illustration. In Second Kings, 3d chapter, we read of Elijah 
 having been asked to prophesy. When he consented to do so, he did not pray 
 for the Spirit to descend, he did not confess his sins, nor did he ask Saul to do so, 
 but he said, " ' Bring me a minstrel.' And it came to pass that, when the min- 
 strel played, the hand of the Lord came upon him." Why was music required 
 to bring down the Spirit of God ? Why was not another art, why were not burnt 
 offerings used ? It is indeed a most remarkable demonstration of the great power 
 of music. Recall the fall of the walls of Jericho. Music was chosen as the power 
 to accomplish this act, and through music this miracle was wrought. The Lord 
 could have chosen any other means, yet he chose music to bring it about. Has 
 this not a deep meaning ? 
 
 When God gave the Decalogue, lightning was seen and loud thunder was heard ; 
 yet we are informed that above all this were heard trumpet sounds. Why was 
 the sound of music added to these manifestations of nature ? Why was it intro- 
 duced at so important and never to be forgotten an event? 
 
 When the angels proclaimed the birth of Christ, they, no doubt, sang that 
 beautiful sentence, "Glory to God in the Highest, on earth peace and good will 
 toward men. ' ' This is the proclamation of the divine work of civilization. While 
 in Old Testament history music is connected with many important events, and 
 also with religious worship, we learn from the New, that music is to be used in 
 the blessed abode above. Whether this is to be music such as we practice, I will 
 not say, but then it is to be music. Perhaps in the last days, when everything 
 shall be changed in the twinkling of an eye, our beloved art also will be changed, 
 but this does not lessen the force of the Bible truth. Does this not prove that 
 music is the one favored art of God ? Ever since the time when the morning 
 stars sang together, until now, music has been a means of praise, and this 
 honorable position our art shall enjoy throughout all eternity. 
 
 Music was admitted into all churches, a few being excepted ; and even these 
 are yielding in this direction. It has ever been a language of praise, a language 
 for the expression of our inner soul-life. Now is all this accidental, or has it 
 a meaning ? Undoubtedly we have a right to claim for our beloved art a high 
 position and a most noble mission. 
 
 But turn from the Bible and read the ancient heathen writers. Though the
 
 THE SANCTITY OP MUSIC. 77 
 
 idea of the true God had been lost, the art of music was still practiced, and 
 was regarded as a means of civilization. Pythagoras calls music the emblem of 
 the Cosmos. His disciples claimed that music was designed to restore the 
 original harmony of the soul. How near he came to the truth, and yet how 
 far he was from it. At night, before retiring, his followers cleansed their souls 
 through calm music, and in the morning they strengthened themselves through 
 the same means. Plato speaks of a music of the spheres, and goes parallel with 
 the Psalmist, who says^that the heavens declare the glory of God, and with Job, 
 who speaks of the morning stars singing together. The ancient Grecians took 
 great pains to instruct their children in music. Plato said that youths should be 
 trained through music to do that which is seemly, for music, according to his 
 ideas, is useful in all serious undertakings, but especially so in war. Soterichus 
 speaks of the fact that music leads to that which is great, beautiful, noble and 
 sublime ; and through it, he says, we are benefited. All states, he adds, which 
 are distinguished for the best laws also show the greatest love for music. Socrates 
 claimed that true education means gymnastics for the body and music for the 
 soul, and, says the same sage, music must begin earlier than gymnastics. The 
 Grecians attributed peculiar powers to certain keys ; some were suited for peace, 
 some for war. They had a profound knowledge of rhythm and its powers, 
 through which they cultivated their sentiments, making themselves receptive for 
 the pure and good, and teaching themselves to abhor the ugly. But enough has 
 been said to show that the ancient Grecians had a high regard for music, although 
 they knew not the one true God. 
 
 Let us now turn from the good book as a revelation, and realize the fact that 
 genius, which is the gift of God, is in a certain and, of course, in a limited sense a 
 revelation also. Men of genius have been sent into this world as beacon lights, 
 that men may also by these means be helped on their upward course. Undoubtedly 
 Shakespeare was such a genius. Who can deny that when he was yet in his cradle 
 he was already the Shakespeare who, by his divine gifts, has given utterance to so 
 many profound sayings ? Neither schools nor example made him what he was ; 
 he was divinely gifted, and his utterances in many instances have the character 
 of divinations. His works are full of allusions to music, only a few of which I 
 shall quote. Bear in mind this fact, that in Shakespeare's time but little of art 
 music was known, yet in his precious writings we discover sentiments, and read 
 wise utterances about music which attribute to it great powers. Listen to a 
 quotation from "Richard II." In his monologue in prison the monarch says, 
 while listening to music 
 
 " For music mads me, let it sound no more ; 
 For though it have helped madmen to their wits, 
 In me, it seems, it will make wise men mad ; 
 Yet blessings on his heart that gives it me, 
 For 'tis a sign of love, and love for Richard 
 Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world !' ' 
 
 Observe the great writer recognizing the fact that music has cured insanity ! 
 What art is this which follows man, as a sweet blessing, into the greatest depths 
 of misery, those depths where even religious instruction, the kind words of friends,
 
 78 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 can afford no consolation or aid ? When man's mind is disordered, when reason 
 fails, then the divine art is still a blessing ; it affects both mind and heart, and 
 often has restored what was lost. W hat a blessing music is to-day to the thousands 
 locked up in asylums ? Yet, notice also the first saying of the king, namely, 
 that music mads him. With its gentle and persuasive tones, no doubt, it opens 
 the sluices of memory ; it brings back the recollections of youth, with its blessings 
 and innocence, and thus it causes sad reflections upon an ill-spent life. Music 
 leads the hearer to draw a contrast between the past and the present ; it awakens 
 conscience, and this no doubt is what the author means when he causes King 
 Richard to say that this music makes a wise man mad. But notice also the fact 
 that the king, who is weary of life, who is bowed down by misfortunes, goaded 
 by his own errors ; who is kept in prison for his wrongs, in the midst of 
 these trying circumstances, is suddenly led by music to pronounce a blessing. 
 When hearing music, he, who is on the verge of despair, says: "Blessings on 
 his heart that gives it me ! " See the noble influences of our art ; see the 
 good a simple musician is permitted to do. Though heavy walls separate him 
 from the one for whom he played, his music calls forth a blessing from the lips 
 of a despairing sufferer. Who can doubt that thousands of bleeding and suffer- 
 ing hearts, that were on the verge of uttering a curse, were through music made 
 to utter a blessing ? Who can deny that thousands of hearts have found consola- 
 tion in music, when no other earthly language would have reached them. 
 
 And now follow the poet a step farther, and notice that he regards music as a 
 sign of love ! Ah blessed Shakespeare ! Here one sees a spark of thy powers of 
 divination. Knowing nothing about art music and its powers, he ascribes to it 
 the spirit of love ! In these words he utters the greatest truth with regard to 
 music, for music is love, religion is love, and blessed love is the link that binds 
 the two inseparably. Yet, let us not overlook the sad fact, that while music and 
 love are divine gifts, they both are, also, shockingly abused. Both religion and 
 music aim to spread the spirit of love, which is the atmosphere of heaven, and 
 when love shall once reign supreme, then also will music exercise its greatest 
 power, for then shall we have reached the highest point of civilization. 
 
 Permit me to give you a few other quotations. King Henry IV, the dying 
 monarch, says : 
 
 " Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends, 
 Unless some dull and favorable hand 
 Will whisper music to my weary spirit." 
 
 What a picture ! A departing monarch, after enduring many struggles in 
 behalf of his crown, at last comes to the brink of that cold, chill river which 
 divides the known from the unknown. Though the possessor of a kingdom with 
 all its wealth, he asks only that some one will whisper music to his weary spirit ! 
 This, and nothing more ! Why did he merely ask for music ? Ah, it was to be 
 an invisible bridge for his pain-racked mind, on which he might cross this chill 
 river ; it was to be a soothing voice, that should enable him in peace to enter the 
 long sleep ! Oh, what is music, when dying kings are made to ask for it as their 
 last request? The monarch did not ask for the consolation of friends, he did 
 not long to hear his deeds of valor recounted, he did not ask for homage as a
 
 THE SANCTITY OP MUSIC. 79 
 
 sovereign, nay, all he wanted was a whispering of music that and nothing more. 
 What a tribute to the secret powers of our art ! Should, we not revere and love 
 it, should we not use it with genuine devotion ? But then King Henry's kst 
 request is the same as that of millions of Christians, who, when about to exchange 
 mortality for immortality, ask for no more than a simple song of praise. They 
 wish to die with the fragrance of religious song on their lips, or, if perchance the 
 voice is too feeble to sing, they wish to hear sweet song from the lips of the loved 
 ones, and with it in their hearts, they desire to reach the other shore. On the 
 pinions of song, they wish their souls to rise to the throne of Grace. Ask 
 ministers how many hymns there are that are wedded to death-bed scenes. 
 
 Still another quotation. In the "Twelfth Night," the Duke says to his 
 musician 
 
 " If music be the food of love, play on, 
 
 Give me excess of it ; that, surfeiting, 
 
 The appetite may sicken, and so die. 
 
 That strain again ; it had a dying fall : 
 
 Oh, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, 
 
 That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
 
 Stealing and giving odor." 
 
 In another place he says 
 
 " Give me some music ; that piece of song, 
 That old and antique song we heard last night ; 
 Methought it did relieve my passion much ; 
 More than light airs and recollected terms 
 Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times." 
 
 One might write a whole lecture about Shakespeare's wonderful utterances in 
 connection with music. Notice that the Duke asks for the antique song, and that 
 he preferred it to the light airs of the giddy-paced times. Learn from Shake- 
 speare, and use but that which is good ; avoid the giddy, the flashy and silly in 
 music. 
 
 Only one more quotation and I shall dismiss the immortal William, as our good 
 and learned Dr. Black so fondly calls him. In the "Merchant of Venice" 
 Lorenzo says 
 
 "How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! 
 Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music 
 Creep in our ears ; soft stillness, and the night, 
 Become the touches of sweet harmony. 
 Sit, Jessica : Look how the floor of heaven 
 Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold ; 
 There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st, 
 But in his motion like an angel sings, 
 Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins : 
 Such harmony is in immortal souls ; 
 But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay 
 Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
 
 80 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 The reason is your spirits are attentive : 
 
 For do bat note a wild and wanton herd, 
 
 Or race of youthful and nnhandled colts, 
 
 Fetching mad bounds, bellowing, and neighing loud, 
 
 Which is the hot condition of their blood ; 
 
 If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, 
 
 Or any air of music touch their ears, 
 
 You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, 
 
 Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze, 
 
 By the sweet power of music : Therefore, the poet 
 
 Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods ; 
 
 Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, 
 
 But music for the time doth change his nature : 
 
 The man that hath no music in himself, 
 
 Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, 
 
 Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; 
 
 The motions of his spirit are dull as night, 
 
 And his affections dark as Erebus : 
 
 Let no such man be trusted." 
 
 Here we see the poet describe the magic effect of music upon the animal 
 creation, and, indeed, there is scarcely any animal but does yield to its charms. 
 Even the crawling serpent with its poisonous fangs is tamed by sweet melody. 
 Well may one ask : Is all this meaningless? 
 
 Does God do a purposeless thing? Why do the human and animal creation 
 yield so willingly to the charms of music ? Undoubtedly it is the divine will that 
 it should so be. And now comes the question, why did he create this love for 
 music, and why did he give us music itself, unless it is to be an educational factor? 
 Ah, music is more than a mere amusement. If it were only this, we would be 
 deceived, all our musical practices would be the emptiest and most meaningless 
 performances imaginable. But can this be so, in view of all that has been said ? 
 Surely not ! God has given us this art for a high and noble purpose, he has 
 inclined our hearts toward it, and if we fail to realize all the noble influences that 
 may be drawn from it, it is because we have not studied the art as we should, 
 because we ourselves are not prepared for its blessed influences. 
 
 But listen to these words once more : " Such harmony is in immortal souls ; 
 but, whilst this muddy vesture of decay doth close it in, we cannot hear it. ' ' Ah ! 
 this music of the soul or the heart is a wondrous power, and if it has once been 
 heard, it will never be forgotten. He who has been under its influence, has tasted 
 greater joy and deeper sorrow than can be expressed in words. Would you hear 
 this music, seek solitude and silence, retire from the world of laughter and merri- 
 ment, and enter the world of love, sympathy and meditation. There, listen to 
 your heart and you may hear music that is calculated to arouse your emotional 
 nature to its deepest depth. When the sun has gone down beyond those red and 
 gorgeously colored clouds that appear like so many huge steps leading into 
 Heaven itself, when the birds have ceased to sing, when silence reigns, and when 
 the stars look down upon you like so many loving, watchful, but also soul-searching 
 eyes, then the heart vibrates most readily. Listen ! and perchance you will hear
 
 THE SANCTITY OP MUSIC. 81 
 
 your mother's voice singing again those songs you loved to hear from her lips. 
 Then you may also hear the old familiar Sabbath-school hymns, the songs of the 
 sanctuary as well as those of the school-room. Presently the vibrating strings will 
 also reproduce those strains you sang when a child among many children, gathered 
 around shady trees or sitting on the porch in the twilight of the evening. Then 
 you may also hear the song you sang so sweetly when love's impulses were first 
 touching your youthful heart. The longer one listens to this silent music, the 
 more powerful it becomes, until at last all communication with the outer world 
 ceases. Then the mind reaches beyond the present, and, in its flight, it searches 
 for those things that are hidden. 
 
 When we yield to such influences, it seems to me I hear the old church-bells 
 of my far-off home, I hear the sweet and majestic tones of the organ my youth- 
 ful fingers played with so much reverence. Many a lost chord, many a long- 
 forgotten melody then makes itself heard, chords and melodies which for years 
 had been crowded out of the heart and mind. Sadly I hear the choir chanting 
 the requiem for the dead, and quicker beats the pulse as I hear again the Te 
 Deum as it was sung on Easter and Christmas festivals. While thus in a reflect- 
 ive mood, scene quickly follows scene, ever changing like the figures of a kalei- 
 doscope. The heart music changes from the soft minor into the bright major, 
 and back again into the sombre minor. The grand and passionate Allegro is 
 succeeded by the gentle Adagio, and the painful scenes of the past are softened 
 and blended with those that are pleasant, as the dominant chord resolves itself 
 into that of the tonic. One after another the sluices of memory are opened, 
 bringing back old friends, events and situations, which the busy world had long 
 ago crowded into the rear chamber of memory. But then the silent music of the 
 heart is not always sweet and gentle. Discords, too, are heard, and painful 
 melodies are sung. The heart-strings often quiver, and the tones produced by 
 them are often loud and shrill, like those of the seolian harp when blown upon 
 by the fierce north wind. This is music of sorrow over wrong deeds, over life's 
 errors. Then are heard the dirges over ill-spent hours and over wasted oppor- 
 tunities. Who can long endure such music? Its effects, however, are softened 
 by the sounds of a sweet anthem that is wafted into the heart with the consoling 
 words, " Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you 
 rest." When this sweet and promising music is heard, the heart takes courage 
 again, it becomes calm once more, and while listening to it, its inner chambers 
 become bright and shining. Verily, at such an hour the heart realizes more of 
 the true meaning of life than philosophers ever revealed. This is music not to 
 be found in books, this is music which the -deaf ear can hear, music which the 
 heart is always ready to produce, if we but give it an opportunity. This music 
 is heard in its greatest beauty by those whose emotional natures are best developed 
 and most refined. This is the music which Beethoven heard all the more 
 strongly, because the sense of hearing had been destroyed. Having lived a life 
 of isolation for many years, having communed much with his own soul, his heart 
 music became more powerful. He diligently listened to it, he faithfully caught 
 it, and by the aid of his genius he gave it to the instruments. Hence it is that 
 his tones speak with such irresistible force. They come from the depth of a 
 noble heart, and for this reason they never fail to touch and to arouse the emo- 
 6
 
 82 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 tions of all fine feeling people. "What soul music must lie have heard as he 
 wandered lonely through fields and valleys, with no sound from the outer world 
 to disturb the music within ? The great tone masters were men of noble souls, 
 they were endowed with deep emotional natures ; hence it is that their music lifts 
 us up to a higher sphere as we listen to the beatings of their own hearts. We 
 commune with them in the spirit, and are made better by them. 
 
 But if the masters wrote from the heart, if they heard much silent music 
 within, which they wrote down for us, those who aim to perform it must in a like 
 manner sing and play with the best powers of their hearts and minds. No matter 
 how simple may be the strain that is awakened by the musician's touch of the 
 instrument, if the player expresses the composer's feelings and full meaning, the 
 performance is artistic. Every student should aim at this power of reproducing 
 the true heart music as it lies hidden in the notes. 
 
 When those who have communed much with their own souls, those who have 
 cultivated heart music, come to the end of their life's journey, they often see 
 sweet visions and hear sweet sounds that afford them consolation and joy. Though 
 speech, sight and hearing have failed them, making it impossible for those who 
 stand soiTOwing around the dying to communicate with them, though they can 
 neither see loved faces nor hear the gentle accents of beloved voices, though their 
 lips are parched and their voices are broken, yet in the midst of their suffering 
 and mortal loneliness we see their faces light up, and in rapture almost they 
 whisper : How beautiful ! How beautiful ! It is at such a time that they hear 
 the music of the soul, that silent music I spoke of, that music which the Scotch 
 believe comes from the spheres. Of course, only those who in life have cultivated 
 this heart music may also hear it in their dying hour. Well did Shakespeare 
 say to Jessica : 
 
 " Such harmony is in immortal souls ; 
 But while this muddy vesture of decay 
 Does close it in, we cannot hear it." 
 
 But listen and you will hear beautiful music that is, if it is in your hearts. 
 
 Having quoted the Bible, having heard what Shakespeare had to say about 
 music, let me now turn for a moment to the great Reformer, Luther. He surely 
 was chosen by God to do a great work, he gave a new impulse to that civilization 
 which Christianity had begun, but which had been retarded in its onward course 
 through man's love for oppression and gain. It surely is of interest to hear what 
 so great a man, a God-chosen instrument for a great and important work, has to 
 say about music. One of the first acts of the great Reformer was to introduce 
 music in the public schools of Saxony. Thus we see the great leader, who was 
 no doubt guided by God, bring music right down to the people. Not only did 
 he introduce music into the public schools ; nay, he allowed the people to sing in 
 the church, a privilege hitherto denied them. Thus he at once brought music 
 to the old and young, and he made it a blessing to the people. Of him it is 
 justly said, that he laid the foundation for German musical art. The first impulse 
 for German musical art came in connection with a great religious movement, 
 hence it rests on a religious basis, for out of the Protestant choral grew Bach and 
 Handel, the roots aud trunks of the German art tree. But then see how the
 
 THE SANCTITY OP MUSIC. 83 
 
 Reformer uses music as a means to spread the Gospel. The Reformation was 
 not only a revival of religion, but it was also an awakening of song. I will quote 
 only a few sentences from the two essays he wrote on music. Aside from these, 
 he often alludes to the art in his voluminous writings, and always professes for it 
 the deepest reverence and love. Says he, "I scarcely know where to begin and 
 where to end in singing its praises. ' ' He claimed that God takes care of man and 
 of art, and he strongly enjoins it upon the church to foster the latter. " Song, ' ' 
 says he, "makes the sad joyful, it gives courage to the faint-hearted, and the 
 haughty it makes more gentle." In his opinion there is nothing 'so well calcu- 
 lated to control the emotions as music, hence he calls the art a disciplinarian, 
 calculated to make children gentle and meek minded. He teaches that God has 
 honored music throughout all ages. Those who love not song, Luther calls, in his 
 blunt language, "blockheads, who ought to be treated to the bawling of donkeys, 
 the barking of dogs, and squealing of pigs. ' ' Those who use the art for selfish pur- 
 poses he calls ' ' degenerated children and changelings. ' ' He places music next to 
 theology, which is its proper place, and adds that, ' ' the devil hates it. " " Where 
 music is sharpened by art," says he, " one sees the great and perfect wisdom of 
 God in his wonderful work." Yes, he goes so far as to call music " the trans- 
 figured daughter of heaven," a solace to him in his arduous task. Now, is it 
 not a singular fact that the great Reformer, whom God had chosen to renew the 
 work of civilization, was a musician also, a lover of the art, a man on whom rests 
 the entire German musical art work ? Is this fact not significant ? and, in view of 
 what has been said, can it be meaningless ? And if it has a meaning, what is it? 
 
 But are not the poets in a sense inspired ? They are the sweet singers who are 
 also designed to help along the great work of civilization through their inspira- 
 tions. If I were to gather what has been said by them in praise of music, I 
 might fill a volume. Only a few quotations shall be offered, to show what fine 
 feeling poets have said about our beloved art. 
 
 Collins wrote : 
 
 " Music, sphere descended maid, 
 Friend of pleasure, wisdom's aid." 
 
 Montgomery said : 
 
 "Through every pulse the music stole, 
 And held sublime communion with the soul, 
 Wrung from the coyest breast th' imprisoned sigh, 
 And kindled rapture in the coldest eye." 
 
 Pope sang thus : 
 
 "By music minds an equal temper know, 
 Nor swell too high nor sink too low; 
 If in the breast tumultuous joys arise, 
 Music her soft assuasive voice applies, 
 Or when the soul is pressed with cares, 
 Exalts her in enlivening airs. 
 "Warriors she fires with animated sounds, 
 Pours balm into the bleeding lovers' wounds, 
 Melancholy lifts her head,
 
 84 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 Morpheus rouses from his bed, 
 Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes, 
 Listening envy drops her snakes. 
 Intestine war no more our passions wage, 
 And giddy factions bear away their rage." 
 
 Thomas Moore, Ireland's sweet singer, writes : 
 
 "Mine is the day that lightly floats, 
 And mine are the murmuring dying notes, 
 That fall as soft as snow on the sea, 
 And melt in the heart as instantly. 
 And the passionate strain that's deeply going, 
 
 Refines the bosom it trembles through, 
 As the musk wind, over the water blowing, 
 
 Ruffles the wave, but sweetens it too." 
 
 In another poem he says : 
 
 " Music ! oh, how faint, how weak, 
 
 Language fades before thy spell, 
 "Why should feeling ever speak, 
 
 When thou canst breathe her soul so well. 
 Friendship's balmy words may feign, 
 
 Love's are e'en more false than they; 
 Oh, 'tis only music's strain, 
 
 Can sweetly soothe and not betray." 
 
 Holmes writes, after listening to an organ concert : 
 
 " I asked three little maidens, who heard the organ play, 
 Where all the music came from that stole our hearts away. 
 
 I know, said fair-haired Edith: 
 
 It was the autumn breeze 
 That whistled through the hollows 
 
 Of all those silver trees. 
 
 No, child, said keen-eyed Clara, 
 
 It is a lion's cage; 
 They woke him out of slumber, 
 
 I heard him roar and rage. 
 
 Nay, answered soft-voiced Anna, 
 'Twas thunder that you heard, 
 
 And after that came sunshine, 
 And singing of a bird. 
 
 Hush ! hush you little children, 
 
 For all of you are wrong, 
 I said, my pretty darlings, 
 
 It was no earthly song,
 
 THE SANCTITY OF MUSIC. 85 
 
 A band of blessed angels 
 
 Has left the heavenly choirs, 
 And what you heard last evening 
 
 Were seraph lips and lyres." 
 
 Only one more of the many I might ofier you. 
 Says Miss Carter : 
 
 " The world is full of wondrous song; 
 We pause to hearken, and we hear, 
 Forever sounding far or near, 
 Those sweet vibrations soft or strong ; 
 Yet sweeter sound and far more dear 
 Than to the outward sense can hear, 
 That rings upon the inward ear, 
 The loved old songs of home. 
 
 We catch the music of the May ; 
 
 The tender voice of bird or breeze, 
 
 That trembles tuneful through the trees, 
 And faint and sweet from far away, 
 
 The mingled murmur of the seas ; 
 
 Yet sweeter, dearer far than these, 
 Though Sirens sang across the foam, 
 
 Are echoed, through life's silences, 
 The loved old songs of home. 
 
 The old, old tunes, the sweet old words 
 
 That lips grown silent loved to sing ; 
 
 How close around the heart they cling, 
 Smiting its truest, tenderest chords ; 
 
 Let all the world with music ring, 
 Where'er we rest, where'er we roam, 
 
 Not one can touch so sweet a string, 
 
 Or to the heart such rapture bring, 
 As these loved songs of home." 
 
 But I must cease quoting. Read for yourselves, and notice that, whenever 
 poets try to catch in words the spirit of music, they write their tenderest lines. 
 
 Now behold music as the companion of man. It follows him through joy and 
 sorrow, it is with him in sickness and health, it is a delight in the prison as well 
 as on the pleasure ground, it is heard in Sabbath-school and in church ; we love 
 it in youth as well as in old age, it is welcome in peace and in war, it delights us 
 in the school-room as well as in the home-circle ; we hear it while resting on 
 our mother's breast, it greets the bride at her wedding and follows us even to the 
 tomb ! Is there any other power or created being that is such a steady com- 
 panion to man's life, the word of God excepted ? Is there another companion as 
 tender, as faithful, and as soothing as sweet music, except the word of God ? 
 Is there another power that awakens and holds the human heart as does music? 
 
 And now, if God in his word speaks so frequently and so highly of music, if in 
 sacred history it is coupled with so many and with such important events, if it is
 
 86 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 the art that goes with us to heaven and that is practiced before the throne of 
 Grace, if it is the art which all ancient writers delighted to praise, and the inven- 
 tion of which they ascribe to the gods ; if music, like religion, is found among 
 all tribes and nations, no matter how uncultivated they may be ; if Shakespeare, 
 as if through divination, spoke in rapture of music's power, if Luther, the great 
 reformer, assigns to it a place by the side of theology, if the poets sing sweetly 
 of the art, if painters and sculptors have delighted in representing it, if all right 
 feeling men love it and yield to it, if even the animal creation is charmed by it, 
 if nature is full of it, if man's heart seems to have been made for it, then one 
 may well believe that God had a great and a wise purpose when he created music, 
 and hence it is that every serious musician seeks for something beyond the vibra- 
 tions that produce the sweet sounds. 
 
 What is music ? If we could tell as much of it as we feel when hearing it, we 
 might easily answer this question. Is it an eternal sentiment laid within our 
 breast, that is aroused when sounds are produced ? or are the sentiments hidden 
 in the sounds ? or are our hearts and the sounds, like opposite poles, attracting one 
 another? Says Jean Paul Richter : " Oh music, thou who bringest the receding 
 waves of eternity nearer to the weary heart of man as he stands upon the shores 
 and longs to cross over ; art thou the evening breeze of this life or the morning 
 air of the future one ? ' ' Or, as another put the question : ' ' Art thou a recollec- 
 tion of Paradise or a foretaste of heaven ? " 
 
 Who dares to abuse such an art ? who dares to belittle its powers ? He who 
 uses it only for his own glorification, shows how little he values it as a gift of God. 
 Let us study it as a most powerful and mysterious gift, as an art which is designed 
 to enhance the civilization of man. I often think of music as a soul-language; it 
 utters what words cannot express. Is it possible that music shall be the language 
 of heaven, and that, thereby, our daily or hourly utterances become praise? No 
 matter what definition of music we may give, so much is sure, that the essence 
 of the art is love. It comes from God, hence it leads back to God, and its mission 
 here can only be that of peace. Love never rests, it forever moves, it constantly 
 seeks new territory to spread happiness ; hence, music, like the Gospel, is heard 
 everywhere. Mankind leans toward love, and whatever brings it to us we take 
 to our hearts. 
 
 As the love of God is immeasurably great, so no one has as yet fathomed the 
 depth of music. It is the love language of the soul ; it is the medium between 
 this and the other world, between the natural and supernatural We shall for 
 all time continue to study this language, for it shall forever help to bring us nearer 
 to God. All men need an ideal world, and all men love to wander therein ; 
 religion and music arc the portals that open into this world. To deny the ideal 
 and to live only for the real is the same as denying religion and art. 
 
 Music cannot do what the ancient Grecians claimed it would do restore the 
 equilibrium of the soul ; no musician with a just appreciation of his art will make 
 such claims for it. Give the art its proper place where Luther has assigned it, 
 namely, next to theology, and rational musicians are satisfied. 
 
 The love power speaks out of music, and it is the one force that leads us all. 
 If it is not, pray tell us what it is. Love is the all-ruling principle ; without it 
 the true, the just, the beautiful are not possible. The heart is the living power
 
 THE SANCTITY OF MUSIC. 87 
 
 in man, and love is its centre ; it is the motor of the world. Music is love ; hence 
 its mighty power. Love is the source from which emanate all great art works ; 
 they bring down heavenly love, peace on earth to men, and so they lift us up 
 again, for God's revelations shall not be without their results. Often, when 
 listening to good music, my heart becomes sad, for I see my shortcomings, and 
 then there is heard a voice within, saying : Rise and become better. And hi a 
 like manner, when I hear good music, I say : Oh, that it may make my pupils 
 better men and women ! In view of what has been said of the art, in view of its 
 capabilities and its sanctity, I repeat what I have said before, that I am most 
 happy in my field of labor, and that if I could fill the highest offices on earth I 
 would still say : Let me be what I am, a teacher of music. This love in art 
 softens men's hearts, but it cannot change them, religion alone does this. Hence, 
 an unloving, a selfish musician, a proud, vainglorious and haughty musician, is an 
 inconsistent being, as anomalous as would be a selfish, proud and haughty min- 
 ister of the Gospel Read the lives of our great musicians and notice how they 
 loved their art, and how highly they thought of its influences and purposes. They 
 had studied the art ; surely they ought to know, in part at least, what its capa- 
 bilities are. Says Philip Emanuel Bach : "One of the noblest objects of music 
 is the spread of religion and the elevation of the human soul." Gliick said : 
 "The object of music is to soften men down without injuring them, and to make 
 them favorable to their surroundings, without lowering them. ' ' Hauptman says : 
 "The highest good of art is not for the connoisseur or the artist, but for all 
 mankind." And right here I say, and that in contradiction to what others have 
 claimed, that pure art, like religion, is for the masses, and not for the few. 
 Marx says: "That the tendency of music is to benefit the masses, and that it 
 cannot be without its influence upon their moral and spiritual condition. ' ' Ber- 
 lioz says : "Do you think I listen to music merely to be pleased ? The perfect, 
 be it expressed in the strangest sphere, operates toward the perfect. ' ' Schumann 
 said : "Does your music come from within? Have you felt it? Be sure it will 
 also affect others." Liszt says: "Everything designed to purify the taste oper- 
 ates upon the heart of man, and the rules of art give us a better understanding of 
 the world's sentiment." Ambros says: "That one is compelled to call music a 
 moral power; it is more than an amusement. " Praetorius wrote : "Experience 
 teaches that music does not remain where the devil rules, for the wicked are not 
 worthy of the art." 
 
 "Music," says Beethoven, "is the medium between the spiritual and the 
 realistic life. " This great master always saw something holy in his art, which 
 he placed above philosophy ; hence all musicians of high attainments are opposed 
 to anything rude, commonplace, frivolous and enervating in art. Hoffmann 
 says : " Love and music live in each other as head and heart." Another said : 
 " Where there is no heart there is no music." When Handel was told by his 
 sovereign that the performance of the "Messiah " had afforded him pleasure, the 
 composer replied : "Your majesty, I did not intend to amuse or to afford plea- 
 sure ; I meant to make the world better. ' ' But I must cease giving quotations. 
 There were musicians who did not view the Gospel as you and I view it, although 
 they were not without religious sentiment ; they all believed that the essence of 
 music is love. Hence all great musicians were self-sacrificing in their spirit ; they 
 cherished an undying devotion to their art ; nothing calculated to enhance its
 
 88 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 progress was too difficult a, task for them to undertake. Most great musicians 
 had a religious side to their lives. Look at Haydn, when the ideas ceased to flow, 
 how fervently he prayed. Read Mozart's letters and notice his devotion to 
 religion. On Beethoven' stable constantly laid a tablet, and upon it were printed 
 these words, "I am He that is. No one has my veil uplifted." Hear 
 Handel, who tells us that when he wrote "He was Despised and Rejected," 
 he shed tears ; and when he wrote the "Hallelujah Chorus," he thought he saw 
 the heavens open, with the angels standing around the throne. Behold the 
 solidity and indestructibility of Bach's religion. Read what Weber wrote under 
 a picture or in an album, saying, "As God wills," and that right under Rossini's 
 words, who said, " As the Public wills." Feel the spirit of genuine piety that 
 fairly streams out of the works of Palestrina, Allegri, Pergolesi, and the older 
 Italian masters. Behold Liszt turning toward religion ; notice the religious 
 tendencies of Mendelssohn's pure soul, as it reveals itself in his oratorios. What 
 good has been done in this world by one such work as the "Messiah " ? Behold 
 how constantly our art is coupled with works of charity ! How many concerts 
 in aid of the suffering have been given ! Yet, there are men who smile at 
 the powers of music ; they make light of its influence, nor will they recognize 
 the difficulties which the study of the art presents. Music is not a deception, it 
 is not a creature of the imagination, it is not a plaything or an amusement ; if 
 it were this and nothing more, then, as has been said, the art would not deserve 
 to exist, while those who teach it would lead the most useless lives of any class 
 of persons. Take away its religious basis and it becomes a tinkling bell ; what 
 Ambros said with so much irony is true : " Men who divest music of its religious 
 element, and claim to derive pleasure from the art, are like galvanized frog-legs. 
 There is motion but no life. There may be emotions but there is no love. Music is 
 designed to express the inner longing of the soul ; it says in tones what the mind 
 fails to utter in words. It is heart-language ; it is a heavenly language, and he who 
 banishes heaven from his heart fails also to fully comprehend the tone language. ' ' 
 Let me reiterate what has been said : God honors music in His word ; it is con- 
 nected with most important sacred events. The ancient Grecians used it as an 
 educational means, and sought to restore through it the equilibrium of the soul. 
 God inclined the human heart to love music ; yes, he placed the animal creation 
 under its sway. There is not found a nation or a tribe without music. All the 
 great poets speak of it in rapturous language ; nature itself is full of it ; it is to 
 be the language of the great beyond ; it is love, and love only can come from 
 God and must lead to him again. In view of these facts, can music be a mere 
 plaything, a mere amusement ? If so, all musicians and all lovers of the art are 
 most cruelly deceived by the influence it exercises. All those that study it waste 
 their time as well as their means, and the Koran is right when it forbids the use 
 of it, as weakening and injurious to man. Not only are we all deceived by study- 
 ing music, if it be not what it claims to be, nay, millions before us have been 
 deceived, and among them some of the loftiest minds and purest of hearts. No ! 
 Let us accept music as a gift, a most precious gift of God ; let us study it with 
 reverence ; let us practice it with humility and diligence, so that we may catch 
 and drink in the spirit of love which it breathes, which is of God, and which leads 
 to God. Let us bear in mind that music is to go with us to heaven, and that 
 there we shall see it in all its glory and beauty.
 
 CHURCH MUSIC. 
 
 The history of Christian church music begins with the fourth century. Doubt- 
 less, the early Christians used either the songs of Greece or India whenever 
 circumstances permitted them to sing in their worship. Christ left no directions 
 for the musical portion of divine worship, and, indeed, a peculiar Christian 
 church music could develop only in the slow course of time. St. Ambrose, who 
 lived in the fourth century, was the first to establish rules, and St. Gregory, who 
 lived two centuries later, continued the good work. It was he who laid the 
 foundation of the present system of Catholic church music. The masses of the 
 people were musically uneducated. Perhaps the church of Rome found it 
 difficult to teach the people to sing ; perhaps she could not supply the teachers 
 needed ; perhaps she preferred to exclude the people from all participation in the 
 musical part of divine worship ; whatever the reason may have been, it is an 
 historic fact, that only monks, friars and deacons were permitted to join in the 
 singing. In order to establish uniformity in singing, the popes sent teachers 
 throughout Christendom, and whenever disputes arose concerning the authen- 
 ticity of a method, bishops and monasteries sent teachers to Rome to be 
 instructed. Despite these earnest efforts to establish uniformity, the music of 
 the church from time to time declined. A certain Cardinal, when asked by Pope 
 Nicholas (1447) how he liked the singing then common in churches, said : " Me- 
 thinks I hear a herd of swine that grunt with might and main, without produc- 
 ing an articulate sound or word." Surely this was severe criticism, and that, 
 too, from one high in authority in the Catholic church. 
 
 Observe that Rome established an ecclesiastic church music. She excluded 
 the people not only from the pulpit, but from the choir. More than that, in 
 her desire to keep the art from evil tendencies, she checked its growth, but while 
 thus the art was fettered within the church, it developed without. The people 
 were fond of singing, and while at an earlier period the Minnesingers developed 
 song in castles of knights and palaces of the nobles, the Meistersingers at a later 
 period spread song and poetry among the common people, and made the homes 
 of the plain burghers resound with cheerful music. 
 
 This was about the musical condition of Germany when Luther entered upon 
 his work of the Reformation. The great reformer was a musician, and as such 
 appreciated the benign influences of the art. He calls it the fairest and most 
 glorious gift of God, to which Satan is a bitter enemy. He said that music 
 makes people more meek-minded. He advocated the introduction of music into 
 the public schools, and next to theology, he gives the divine art the highest 
 honors. Luther only gradually loosened those bonds which tied the people to the 
 Roman service. The first reform measure was the introduction of the German 
 
 89
 
 90 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 language. He translated those Latin hymns which were free from error, and 
 wrote others himself. In order to provide new music for his people he intro- 
 duced the popular melodies of the day. The whole congregation were invited to 
 join in the songs of the sanctuary. Observe how Protestantism in its earliest 
 development differed from Rome in the rise of religious music. The one had au 
 ecclesiastic music with which the people had nothing to do, the other insisted 
 upon congregational singing. 
 
 Music proved to be a powerful agent to help along the work of reformation. 
 In all ages and among all nations great political and religious upheavals have 
 found an expression La song. These outbursts are usually designed to fire the 
 heart and to engender loyalty to a cause. Catholic writers of those days said that 
 the people fairly sang themselves into Luther's doctrines, and the Jesuit, Conzen, 
 added that more souls went to destruction through Luther's hymns and tunes, 
 than through his doctrines. 
 
 It was but natural that the want of a hymn-book should make itself felt. This 
 want was supplied in 1524, when a little pamphlet appeared containing but eight 
 hymns and five tunes. The next edition, which appeared in 1525, had 16 hymns, 
 and the book, as published in 1545, contained not less than 89 hymns. Luther 
 not only used many popular tunes, but he converted popular songs to religious 
 uses. Aside from this he drew largely upon the Bohemian or Moravian church- 
 music collection. Luther's agents and missionaries traveled all over Germany 
 selling and giving away the new hymn- and tune-books. These often became 
 popular before a Lutheran preacher had addressed the people. Thus song con- 
 veyed the seeds of the gospel and spread the spirit of the Reformation. These 
 song-peddlers, as they were called, were often arrested, but where one was put 
 into jail ten others were ready to take his place. 
 
 Luther and his co-laborers were nobly aided in their work of providing new 
 hymns and music. These often were mere chance productions. An organist, for 
 instance, took sick, and his pastor wrote a hymn as a word of consolation, and, 
 after the organist had recovered, he set it to music. This is the simple origin of 
 that celebrated hymn and choral, " What God does, that is well done." 
 
 Both hyains and tunes of that period are very different from those of modern 
 times. The latter appear weak, yes, often insignificant, when compared with the 
 church music of the reformation time. The tunes and hymns that were produced 
 during Luther's time, and for a century afterward, must be called heroic; they 
 have about them a solemn grandeur, like the men and the times from whence 
 they sprang. The Reformation was not only an outburst of thought, but also 
 one of song. God's spirit was moving the masses, the Bible was unchained, the 
 shackles of centuries were loosened, and the days of religious freedom began to 
 dawn, religious freedom which is the necessary precursor of political freedom. 
 Who could keep from singing at such a time ! What poet, what musician was 
 there, who, when breathing the spirit of his times, could fail to produce a new 
 hymn or a new tune ? When the heart is full of religious fervor, the lips will 
 overflow with religious song. These hymns and tunes sprang from a genuine 
 religious spirit ; hence they live to this day, and if Protestant churches do not 
 admire them, sensible musicians do. Over 2000 hymns and tunes have been col- 
 lected from the first century after the Reformation. With the sad scenes of the
 
 CHURCH MUSIC. 91 
 
 Thirty Years' War this activity ceased, and as all standing still in moral and reli- 
 gious life generally leads to a retrograde movement, we may well say that the 
 decline of German hymnology dates from that period. 
 
 Although I am writing on the subject of Protestant church music, I am, 
 nevertheless, under the necessity of saying a few words about the music of Rome. 
 The Catholic church was friendly to the cultivation of arts, but because the 
 Catholic church is charged with errors, the arts, especially music, need not 
 be suspected of vicious influences. 
 
 As Germany's best Protestant church music was written during the century 
 succeeding the Reformation, so also was the best Catholic church music written 
 during the same period. I need but mention one Italian master of the 16th 
 century whom Protestant musicians admire as much as Catholics possibly can 
 I mean Palestrina. But this leads me too far. It has been said that the 
 Catholic church did more for the arts than for religion, just as Cardinal Wolsey 
 did more for his king than for his God. The modern Catholic church music is 
 grand, highly artistic, and often dramatic. It affects the listener as if it were 
 coming from an angelic choir above. It is, therefore, in the main inspiring ; it is 
 designed to draw the listener into the presence of God, Protestant church music 
 is plainer, less pretentious, but more vigorous. It has less of an art tinge and 
 more of a popular character. It is not designed to be a means of drawing 
 worshipers into the presence of God, but should call praise from their lips to 
 the throne of grace. The Bible more often bids us praise than pray. Are there 
 any among you who excuse themselves from singing, by saying : " I am musically 
 uneducated, I cannot sing." If so, let me ask whether you would refuse to pray 
 because you are not a scholar, and are not educated enough to use the best 
 language. God hears the humblest prayer of the humblest man that kneels in 
 his cabin to supplicate his Father. Yet that prayer may be far more effective 
 than hundreds of petitions offered by those who know how to use elegant 
 language. So God will hear your songs of praise, be they ever so humble, for 
 God looks to the heart first and then to the voice. 
 
 Rome has ever been the centre toward which a world contributed her wealth. 
 She was, therefore, rich and well able to cultivate the arts. Germany, on the 
 other hand, was poor, her climate was rougher, she lacked those refining influences 
 which Italy enjoyed for centuries before Germany became christianized. It was, 
 therefore, but natural that Italy should have been in advance of Germany hi the 
 cultivation of the arts. Poor Germany was afflicted with wars and political com- 
 motions. Foes from without and within assailed her. Germany is the geographical 
 centre, the heart of Europe, and owing to her peculiar situation she quickly feels 
 the slightest tremor of any part of the continent. She was chosen by God to 
 stand the shock of the Reformation, and bravely she stood it. That music did not 
 flourish during the Thirty Years' War is but natural ; but when peace returned, 
 and the poor land ceased to bleed from its many wounds, art began to flourish 
 again. There arose two great men who laid the foundation for all future German 
 musical art, namely, Bach and Handel. They were sturdy Protestants, and thus it 
 may be said that German art rests upon the spirit of Protestantism. Italian church 
 music is found only in Rome. France has really no church music that is deserving 
 of the name ; German Protestant music is found everywhere in that country.
 
 92 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 During the last century, Lutheran church music underwent a process of 
 modernizing ; the chorals were changed from the church modes to the modern 
 major and minor keys ; the language of the hymns was softened, but both hymn 
 and tune suffered in their spiritual character. The spirit of rationalism now 
 made its influence felt, both in the pulpit and in the choir ; worldly music was 
 heard and purely metaphysical sermons were preached. And again the hand of 
 affliction was laid upon Germany ; the land was again invaded by the old enemy ; 
 but, when peace was restored, William HI, King of Prussia, took vigorous steps 
 toward a revival of religion, and this work was begun with a process of purifying 
 Protestant church music. Germany still adheres to congregational singing. 
 
 Despite German rationalism, we may still go to Germany for our best works on 
 Protestant theology. All the English-speaking people of the globe have pro- 
 duced but about 5000 hymns, while Germany alone has enriched sacred literature 
 with 80,000 of them. If it be true that the lips run over with what the heart 
 is filled, no one dare to deny that Germany at one time was eminently a religious 
 country, and if she is no longer that, the sin must be laid to the charge of her 
 ministers, who first forsook the truth. 
 
 France. The Reformers found a rich storehouse of music and hymnology in 
 the Bohemian collection of church music. The Bohemians sang in their native 
 tongue, and practiced congregational singing long before the Reformation. While 
 Lutheran church music was set to harmony, that of the Bohemian book was not. 
 The tunes were to be sung in unison. The Jesuits have had a special dislike to 
 this book, and so persistent have they been in the work of its destruction that 
 but very few original copies are left us. Wherever Moravians sing, be it among 
 the Indians, the Hottentots, or in the snow-covered huts of the Esquimaux, they 
 use to this day the same grand old tunes and hymns. More than once, while 
 traveling in Pennsylvania, have I visited their churches, and have listened with 
 delight to their singing, but I am also sorry to say that the youth of that church 
 are opposed to these jewels, and seek to exchange them for " Sweet-By-and- 
 By," "Hold the Fort," etc. Of this style of church music I shall, however, 
 speak more fully. 
 
 The third and fourth styles of church music, namely, the Episcopalian and 
 Calvinistic, I will treat in connection with each other, because in England they 
 developed side by side, and because a great deal of English history is closely con- 
 nected with the development of English church music. The history of the Calvin- 
 istic mode of singing reaches into all countries where Protestantism has gained 
 a foothold ; yes, it reaches even into our present time. Lutheran church music 
 was more or less without centralization, that is, different cities and countries had 
 their own hymns and tune-books. The music of the Reformed churches, how- 
 ever, was everywhere the same. The Calvinists at Geneva, at Cassel and Frank- 
 fort used the same tunes. Calvin differed more radically from Rome than did 
 Luther, and, inasmuch as the Catholic church was much given to the cultivation 
 of the arts, the early Calvinists were hostile to them. They stripped their churches 
 of everything that reminded them of Rome, and in doing this they at times 
 went to extremes. What if they sang a Psalm before they began the work of 
 destruction in the Cathedral at Antwerp, such work cannot be called sanctified. 
 It is, however, a noteworthy fact, that while pictures and statues were excluded
 
 CHURCH MUSIC. 93 
 
 from churches, the most rigid Calvinists finally retained music. Still, the church 
 organ question is now, as it has been in the past, one of dispute in Calvinistic 
 churches, and there is no telling when it will be settled. When speaking of 
 Calvinistic church music, Psalmody deserves our first attention. Psalmody is of 
 German origin I mean thereby the singing of Psalms in their metrical form. 
 It is claimed that Huss and Wycliffe sang Psalms, but there is no good evidence 
 of this assertion. The Psalms, of course, were chanted in synagogues and in the 
 Catholic church, but the one used them in Hebrew, the other in Latin. Luther 
 translated a number of the Psalms, and sang them in his family worship and at 
 social gatherings, but not in public worship. He often expressed the wish that 
 some one might continue the good work he had begun. Suddenly there appeared 
 a translation of fifty Psalms into French. The work was done by Clement Marot, 
 and the first edition appeared in 1540. The work of translation was afterward 
 completed by Theodore Beza, who five years later, in 1545, caused; a complete 
 translation of the Psalms to appear in print. It was first believed that these 
 Psalms would morally revolutionize the realm, for they became at once very 
 popular, so much so that they were heard in the streets of Paris. The king, queen, 
 and, in fact, all his courtiers had their favorite psalms, which they sang to common 
 ballad tunes, and which were heard on all, yes, even the most trivial, occasions. 
 Thus, when the Dauphin went out on the chase, he paused for a moment under 
 the window of his favorite Diana de Poitiers and sang, " As the hart panteth 
 after the water-brooks," etc., and when he returned his mistress came to the 
 balcony and welcomed him by singing, "Out of the depths have I cried unto 
 Thee. ' ' Of Madame Valentinois it is said that she sang the thirtieth Psalm while 
 she danced. In England the Psalms were roared out at the Lord Mayor's dinner, 
 and that by men heated by wine. How common the singing of Psalms to dance 
 tunes was may be seen from a line in Shakespeare's " Winter Tales," which reads 
 thus : "There is but one Puritan amongst them, and he sings Psalms to horn- 
 pipes." 
 
 Calvin determined to use these Psalms in his churches, and gave orders that 
 they be sung in unison by the whole congregation. 
 
 When it became known that Calvin had adopted the Psalms to be used in the 
 regular service of the reformed churches, Catholics at once abstained from using 
 them, and Psalm-singing henceforth became a synonym of heresy. 
 
 Let us now turn our attention to England. When King Henry VHI deter- 
 mined to emancipate England from Rome, he aimed quite as much to emancipate 
 himself, and in his reformatory work he was at times guided just as much by 
 passion as by reason. He who defended the faith against Luther now followed 
 in the footsteps of that great reformer, and like him, began by introducing the 
 language of the country into the church service. Henry VIII and Edward and 
 Elizabeth were all great lovers of music, and they did all in their power to make 
 the Episcopal church service brilliant and impressive. Edward VI continued the 
 work of reformation, and during his reign the entire Liturgy of the English 
 Episcopal church, together with the Book of Prayer were perfected (1552). All 
 Catholic missals, breviaries and church music-books were then gathered and 
 destroyed. This took place in 1560. Despite the fact that the English service 
 was sanctioned by law, many were opposed to it, and a struggle ensued which
 
 94 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 lasted nearly a century. Psalmody was one of the principal points upon which 
 this struggle turned. The oldest translation of the Psalms into English is that 
 by Coverdale. It was followed by another, prepared by Sternhold and Hop- 
 kins, 1549. In 1562 these Psalms were supplied with suitable music, which 
 was mostly borrowed from Germany. These Psalms were bound in with the 
 Prayer Book, and, in order to please the Dissenters, were allowed to be sung in 
 public worship. These tunes were set to harmony after the Lutheran and Episco- 
 pal style of music. During the reign of Queen Mary, Psalm-singing was not a 
 safe mode of worship ; many Christians died bearing witness to their faith, while 
 others fled to Cassel, Frankfort, Geneva and other cities, where they became 
 acquainted with the style of singing practiced in Reformed churches, which style 
 was afterward designated the Geneva style of singing. When Elizabeth ascended 
 the throne, the Episcopal church service was reestablished in all its splendor. In 
 1559 she published her sentiments in decrees, and twice during her reign was the 
 church service sanctioned by law. The Dissenters who had to flee during Queen 
 Mary's reign now returned, and at once began the work of agitation against the 
 regular service, and in favor of the Geneva style of singing. They insisted upon 
 it, that plain Psalmody was best adapted to the praise of God. Being men of 
 great persistence, they gave the virgin Queen much trouble, and it required all 
 her firmness to keep these "meddlers," as they were called by Episcopalians, in 
 check. 
 
 Now let us hear what critics have to say about this Geneva style of singing. 
 Reports do not agree. One writer says that the Psalms sounded grand ; another 
 tells us that they were wretchedly sung. Of course, due allowance must be made 
 in accepting these criticisms, for the Cavaliers hated Psalmody as cordially as the 
 Dissenters hated the regular service. Both sides were determined not to yield, 
 and each did what it could to advance its own views. 
 
 During the persecution of the Duke of Alva hi Flanders, many reformers 
 had to flee from that country, and they generally turned their faces toward 
 England. These exiles were all Psahn singers, who added greatly to the strength 
 of the Puritans in England. Many of them were weavers ; men who were also 
 well skilled in music. They were known all over England, and Shakespeare, in his 
 "Sir John Falstaff," speaks of them in these words : "I would I were a weaver, 
 then I could sing Psalms." It is claimed that the descendants of these weavers 
 are to this day among the best singers in England. 
 
 How sad it is that men had to fight for religious liberty ! How slow the world 
 was in recognizing the fact that neither powder nor the flames could conquer a 
 man's religious convictions. Men may bow before a hat, or submit to oppressive 
 laws in order to save life and property, but a Christian never yields to what he 
 conceives to be error. Whatever may be said against these men, this much is 
 sure, that their courage deserves our admiration, for they fought out the battles 
 for religious liberty. Through these struggles they established principles, they 
 infused a spirit of independence which can never be crushed ; and this is the true 
 spirit of Protestantism, the right to protest, the right of liberty in matters of 
 religion. 
 
 The struggle in behalf of Psalmody gradually became general. Sermons were 
 preached and lectures delivered, and even such noted men as Dr. Whitgift,
 
 CHURCH MUSIC. 95 
 
 Archbishop of Canterbury, went so far as to challenge Thomas Cart-wright to a 
 public debate. The Puritans became bolder with every success, and finally pe- 
 titioned Parliament "to put down all cathedrals where the service of God is 
 grievously abused by piping with organs, singing and ringing and drawling of 
 Psalms from one side of the choir to another, with the squeaking of chanting 
 choristers, disguised in white surplices, some in corner caps and filly copes, imi- 
 tating the fashion and manner of Antichrist the Pope, that man of sin and child 
 of perdition, with his other rabble of miscreants and shavelings." This was 
 indeed bold language to lay before the highest tribunal of the church and the 
 country. 
 
 The Episcopal style of singing was then by the Puritans called " curious style 
 of singing, heathenish in its tendency and belonging to Rome. ' ' With the acces- 
 sion of strength by the Puritans, Psalm books also increased in number. The 
 most popular one then in use was that published by Ainsworth, 1612. This is the 
 book which the Pilgrim Fathers brought with them to this country. The poetry 
 of this book, if such it deserves to be called, is simply execrable. Let me give 
 you a few specimens : 
 
 "Why dost withdraw thy hand aback 
 
 And hide it in thy lappe, 
 Oh pluck it out, and be not slack 
 To give thy foes a rappe." 
 
 In another place we read 
 
 " For why their hearts were nothing bent 
 To God nor to his trade." 
 
 Further on we read 
 
 "Nor how he commit their fruit 
 Unto the catterpiller, 
 And all the labor of their hands 
 He gave to the grasshopper." 
 
 One more quotation, and I will pass on with my paper : 
 
 " Confound them all that do apply, 
 
 And seek to work me shame, 
 And at my harm do laugh and cry, 
 And say, there goes the game." 
 
 Playford, in his Psalm book of 1677, says that the piety of these people exceeded 
 their poetry, and he was mild in his criticism. 
 
 During the turbulent times of King Charles I, singing degenerated. The 
 clerks, who were appointed by government to take charge of music in the church, 
 became licentious. Says an Episcopal writer : "They are bad company, and yet 
 a society of good fellows. They were deep in the choir and still deeper in taverns. 
 Their pastime and recreation is prayer, but their exercise is drinking. So griev- 
 ously are they addicted to this vice, that they serve God oftener when drunk." 
 Was it a wonder that Puritans hated the very church service that was sung by 
 such musicians ? The English Puritans might eventually have yielded, but when
 
 96 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 King Charles I attempted to introduce the Episcopal liturgy in Scotland, lie 
 undertook more than he could accomplish. They took up arms and came across 
 the borders. A Scotchman is an unyielding sort of a being. It is said that you 
 cannot break him. Though you roll him, twist him and double him up, yet will 
 he strike an attitude for a fight, when you think you have him completely in your 
 power. King Charles at first attempted to persuade the Scotch to accept peace- 
 ably the new order of things. He gave them new tunes which were called after 
 Scottish cities and towns, in order to flatter them, but the good people of Cale- 
 donia would not accept of King Charles' new tunes, even if they were called 
 Glasgow, Dundee, etc. They preferred to fight, and being a brave people they 
 at last conquered. When they had the King in their possession, a Scottish min- 
 ister boldly preached a sermon at him, after which he gave out the 52d Psalm, 
 which begins thus : 
 
 " Why dost thou tyrant boast thyself thy wicked works to praise?" 
 
 Such a hint a King of England had never before received. He could not endure 
 such an insult, and therefore demanded that the 56th Psalm be given out, which 
 begins thus : 
 
 " Have mercy, Lord, for me, I pray, 
 For men would me devour," 
 
 which Psalm the people sang. But I need not relate here the end of this sad 
 struggle, for you ah 1 know the fate of King Charles L 
 
 The Dissenters, who had for so many years asked for simpler forms of worship, 
 now took matters into their own hands. In 1644 they passed a law authorizing 
 the destruction of organs, Episcopal music-books, painted windows, in fact of every 
 thing that reminded them of the Episcopacy. Especially severe were they against 
 organs, those "instruments of the devil and the Pope," as they were called. 
 Cromwell, however, had the pretty organ of St. Magdalen's Chapel taken to 
 Hampton Court, where he privately enjoyed its sweet tones. Organists and clerks 
 had to flee, and Psalmody became the established mode of singing. 
 
 After the return of Charles II, psalm-singing was again somewhat subdued. 
 This monarch, upon his return to England, at once began to gather the remnants 
 of the cathedral service. There was great need of books and music, great need 
 of organists as well as organs. Old organists had died, others had fled the coun- 
 try, and the few that were still found could not agree as to how the service should 
 be played and sung. In this dilemma Charles II called many musicians from 
 France, for he was fond of the music of that country. This, of course, gave 
 offence to English musicians, and in order to get these foreigners out of the coun- 
 try, English musicians went diligently to work ; they studied hard, until at last 
 the old order of things was reestablished. Since that time the service of the 
 Episcopal Church has remained fixed. New Te Deums and Gloria Patris have 
 been and are being written, but the service is the same to-day that it was in King 
 Charles' times. The two parties have ceased to war and fight, for the Episcopa- 
 lians allow the Puritans to sing psalms, while the latter are willing that the 
 Established Church should toss the psalms from one side of the church to the 
 other.
 
 CHURCH MUSIC. 97 
 
 A good old Caledonian of the free kirk of Scotland came to this country and 
 settled somewhere in Illinois. The Presbyterians of that place were building a 
 new church, and Sandy took a lively interest in it. One day, while attending a 
 congregational business meeting, the question of procuring chandeliers came up 
 for discussion. Our Scotchman, having but recently come from a little church 
 in the Highlands, knew nothing about chandeliers, for there were no such things 
 known in his church. With genuine Scotch caution he suspected at once that 
 it was some sort of a musical instrument they were talking about, and being 
 bitterly opposed to the "wistling kist," he arose and gravely said: "Well, 
 and what if you do get a chandelier, there is no one in this church who can play 
 on it." 
 
 With a few remarks about Calvinistic churches and their music in Scotland and 
 Ireland, I will leave the old country and trace out the history of church music. 
 All churches stand alike before the law. Organs have of late been introduced in 
 Established churches whenever people have desired to use them. I am, however, 
 unable to mention a single instance where an organ has been admitted into a free 
 kirk. Still the law permits them to use organs, if they wish to introduce them. 
 Psalms, paraphrases, and even hymns are used. Throughout Scotch rural dis- 
 tricts, however, Psalmody without the use of organs is the general mode of wor- 
 ship ; yes, even in larger towns organs are the exception. The Irish church, at 
 the time of the union of the Secession Church and the Synod of Ulster, recog- 
 nized Rouse's version. Some congregations in the Synod of Ulster had used 
 paraphrases in addition to the Psalms, hence these churches were allowed to con- 
 tinue their use, but none others were to follow their example. Melodeons found 
 their way into Sunday schools, and finally also into churches, which led to much 
 controversy. When the question came before the Assembly, there was a tie vote. 
 The Moderator refused to vote, the matter was dropped, and a resolution was 
 passed that vigorous efforts should be adopted to improve congregational singing. 
 
 The English Presbyterian church uses an excellent collection of hymns with 
 Rouse's version. They have chanting in their churches, a mode of singing which 
 the people like very much. Thus we see law and order prevailing everywhere, 
 and so we will leave Europe and come to America. 
 
 When speaking of the history of American church music, we must turn our 
 attention to New England. The Pilgrim Fathers naturally enough introduced the 
 customs prevalent in the Independent churches in which they worshiped in 
 England. As has already been stated, they brought with them Ainsworth's 
 collection of music, which they used until 1640, while a few churches retained it 
 until 1682. The reason they gave up their old friend was owing to the fact that 
 in 1640 the first music book ever published in this country left the press. This 
 was called the "Bay Psalm Book," which became a general favorite; so much so 
 that it passed through many editions, and was used in Scotland as late as 1776. 
 The versification of this book is simply horrible. Thus we read : 
 
 " Yah is my strength and song, 
 
 And he is my salvation, 
 He is my God and I'll prepare 
 For him a habitation."
 
 98 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 As a specimen of a spiritual song, I will quote the following : 
 
 " Jael the Kenite, Heber's wife, 
 'Bove women blessed shall be, 
 Above the women in the tent 
 A blessed one is she. 
 He water asked, she gave him milk ; 
 In lordly dish she fetched 
 Him butter forth ; unto the nail 
 She forth her left hand stretched, 
 Her right hand to the workman's maul, 
 And Sisera hammered ; 
 She pierced and struck his temples through, 
 And then cut off his head. 
 He at her feet bowed, fell, lay down, 
 He at her feet bowed where 
 He fell, whereas he bowed down, 
 He fell destroyed there." 
 
 Comment* are needless. A.fac-simile of this book was published in 1862. It 
 is prefaced by an argument, showing forth the lawfulness of singing Psalms. 
 It deals with the question as to how Psalms ought to be sung, whether in prose 
 or in meter, and who should sing them. This book passed through not less than 
 seventy editions, the last of which appeared three years before the Declaration 
 of Independence. In the ninth edition (1696) there appeared a few tunes, the 
 first music ever printed in this country. These tunes have only the air and the 
 bass, and directions are given as to " how to set them within the compass of the 
 voice, so as to avoid squeaking above or grumbling below." 
 
 For sixty years after the formation of the first New England churches only 
 about ten tunes were used, and this small number, at a later period, was even 
 reduced to six. They were Oxford, York, Lichfield, Windsor, St. David's and 
 Martyrs. Every one of these tunes was copied in the worshipers' Bibles ; later, 
 as I said, they were printed in song books. 
 
 The Pilgrim Fathers appreciated music, not music in our sense, but their church 
 tunes. They were taught in public schools, and children were early trained to 
 reverence them. Whenever they sang in church the congregation arose, and 
 when hearing one of them sung on the street they took off their hats. Though 
 their singing on Sundays often occupied a half hour, old and young would remain 
 standing until that part of divine worship was concluded. The Psalms were sung 
 in regular rotation, without regard to the subject of the preacher's discourse. In 
 consequence of the long-continued use of these tunes they were regarded as 
 inspired ; hence, the opposition to the introduction of new ones. 
 
 John Cotton, of Boston, in his constitution of the church, published in London 
 in 1642, two years after the " Bay Psalm Book " had appeared, defends congre- 
 gational singing. Two years later he wrote another book, entitled " Singing of 
 Psalms a Gospel Ordinance." An unsettled state of things had made itself felt, 
 for there were many who had scruples about singing at any time, while others 
 were bitterly opposed to all musical improvements, especially to the introduction
 
 CHURCH MUSIC. 99 
 
 of new tunes. Many Nonconformist churches had to meet secretly, and, in order 
 to avoid being detected, they had to dispense with singing. Thus they acquired 
 a habit of worshiping without music, and finally took a dislike to it. An instance 
 is mentioned of a congregation which, after deliberating for years, agreed to sing 
 once on communion day, but not regularly on Sundays. After six years of 
 further deliberation they agreed to sing on Thanksgiving Day. Fourteen years 
 later they arrived at the conclusion that they would not sin by singing once on a 
 Sabbath ; but, so as not to give offence to those who were opposed, singing should 
 only be indulged in after the last prayer, when the objecting portion might leave. 
 But, to reach the climax, a portion of this congregation seceded, and worshiped 
 twenty years longer without singing. 
 
 Many objections were raised against what was then called regular singing. 
 These may, in part, have sprung from prejudices, but they generally were based 
 upon conscientious convictions. It was the opinion of some that Christians should 
 not sing with their lips, but simply with their hearts. Others considered it sinful 
 to sing Psalms, inasmuch as we had no longer King David's music. Still others 
 claimed that Psalms should be sung in prose, while their opponents were in favor 
 of singing them in meter. Some permitted the use of hymns, others pronounced 
 them as sinful. Many were of the opinion that only one should sing, while the 
 congregation were to join by singing Amen. It was also a vexatious question 
 whether men alone or also women should sing in church, and whether only Chris- 
 tians or also carnal men might join in this exercise. Surely there were enough 
 questions for debates. Cotton answered all these objections with lengthy argu- 
 ments and also with much skill. People were at last prepared to allow all to sing 
 who could or would. 
 
 The practice of lining out was then general all over New England. In the 
 course of time this practice was attacked, and, of course, also stoutly defended. 
 Many were opposed to it, on the ground that God had not instituted an office for 
 the lining out of Psalms. This practice was strongly rooted. As late as fifty 
 years ago, a New England settler who lived somewhere near Chillicothe, O., was 
 in the habit of singing Psalms on a Sunday afternoon. This was all well enough 
 and praiseworthy ; but think of it, there sat our good brother, solitary and alone, 
 lining out the Psalms for his own especial benefit. Cotton also engaged in this 
 struggle. He admitted that the lining out of Psalms was useless, if all had 
 books and could read, or if they knew the Psalm by heart. The same writer 
 argued that, as God had only given us Psalms and not the tunes, we were forced 
 to invent new ones. After this idea was generally accepted, music books gradually 
 increased. The controversy, however, was by no means ended. During the 
 years of disputing over the question, whether or not it is sinful to introduce new 
 tunes, the people neglected their music, until, at last, their singing could no 
 longer be called such. All manner of shakes and twists had crept in, and scarcely 
 any two sang alike. Rev. Thomas Walter, in his book, entitled "Grounds and 
 Rules of Music," 1721, said that he had heard "Oxford" tune sung in three 
 churches with as much difference as there possibly could be between as many 
 different tunes. The church music of that time was mutilated, tortured and 
 twisted, said Walter, and psalm-singing became a mere disorderly noise, left to 
 the mercy of every unskilled throat to chop and alter, twist and change according
 
 100 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 to his own odd fancy. He further adds that their singing sounded like five 
 hundred tunes roared out at once, and that they dragged so fearfully that he was 
 obliged to take breath twice while singing one note. All this came so gradually 
 that they still deemed their singing good, yes, the most horrid discords seemed 
 to gratify their ears. 
 
 Walter's book brought about a great commotion. Many were the struggles in 
 behalf of better singing, and many and bitter were the objections raised against 
 the regular singing, as they called singing by note. They said that singing from 
 notes was an unknown tongue, that it was not as good as the old way, that there 
 were too many tunes to be learned, that no one could master them all, that the 
 new way caused disturbances, grieved good men, exasperated them, that it caused 
 them to behave badly, that it was popish, that it would soon bring the organs, 
 that the names of the notes were blasphemous, that this new style of singing was 
 merely a contrivance to get money, that it led to Rome, or at any rate to the 
 Church of England, and, lastly, that it must be bad, because the young people 
 took hold of it so readily. 
 
 The war was briskly carried on, and the people were at times so excited that 
 there seemed to be danger of bloodshed. Of course, there were those who defied 
 authority. Thus, we read in an old record that Rev. Samuel Niles, of Baintree, 
 in 1723 suspended eight church members for persisting in singing by note. They 
 were, however, soon restored, and the congregation was allowed to sing by note 
 and rule alternately, so that both parties might be satisfied. This rule, however, 
 gave offence to the Rev. Samuel Niles, and thereafter he held regular service in 
 his own house, leaving the church to the deacons and their new style of singing. 
 At last the controversy came to an end. The people of Charleston voted that 
 " Mr. Stephen Badger, Jun. , be desired to read and to set the Psalms, and that he 
 be excused his poll tax as long as he shall officiate in the said work. ' ' In 1742 the 
 church in Hanover voted to sing in the new way, and thus church after church 
 followed. This created a desire for musical instruction, and the necessity of sing- 
 ing schools was felt everywhere. This is the origin of the old-fashioned singing 
 school, which soon spread over all New England. 
 
 Having gained this much, let us see what the party of progress next demanded. 
 It was but natural that those who took singing lessons should also desire to sit 
 together in church. For many years they occupied the front pews, but were not 
 recognized as organized choirs, an institution not known in this country until after 
 the Revolution. Psalms were still lined out, and not unfrequently the most 
 ludicrous mistakes were made or contradictions were heard, causing the young 
 folks to titter and to behave badly. Thus the old deacon read out : 
 
 " The Lord will come and he will not ," 
 and after singing this line he continued reading 
 
 " Keep silence, but speak out." 
 
 Against this practice of lining out singing schools now declared war. The unfortu- 
 nate deacons not unfrequently made mistakes by leaving out a line, or by reading 
 another twice, thereby throwing the whole congregation into a state of confusion. 
 It is said that deacons in those days used brass candlesticks for the getting of the
 
 CHURCH MUSIC. 101 
 
 pitch. This, of course, is a base slander. It is, however, a fact that the deacons 
 used a large wooden pitch-pipe, said to have looked like a good-sized mouse trap. 
 This was stealthily passed from mouth to mouth as slily, says a writer, as a bottle 
 of brandy in a stage coach. It must have been considered a stupendous task in 
 those days to start a tune, for we are informed that as many as three were ap- 
 pointed to assist in this work. In spite of this fact, they often took the pitch 
 too high, thereby causing the old people to look at each other in a state of con- 
 sternation, while the young folks chuckled and laughed as one voice after another 
 dropped out, until at last the deacon had only the stout-hearted Ezekiel or the 
 reliable Prudence left to assist him in saving the tune from utter shipwreck. What 
 a relief when the end of that tune was reached ! Imagine the deacon as he gravely 
 wiped his face, for, indeed, it was hard work to stretch the neck and to sustain 
 such high tones. But woe to the deacon if he stopped to take the tune lower, 
 for he was sure to go too low. 
 
 There was therefore a popular movement set on foot against lining out and 
 against musically uneducated deacons starting the tunes. One parish after 
 another gave music over to the singers, and deacons were forced to struggle for 
 their time-honored rights or retire. It seems strange that a congregation should 
 meekly wait until the words were doled out to them, yet there were many who 
 cried Popery! whenever any one proposed to abolish the system. While these 
 discussions were being carried on the singers resorted to all manner of intrigues in 
 order to carry their point. They would start the tune before the deacon had time 
 to do so, and when he stopped for the purpose of lining out they sang right on. 
 Then, again, they would sing fast, leaving the deacon and his followers far behind. 
 If the deacon succeeded in starting his tune before they were ready, they would 
 suddenly start another, thereby bewildering the people. The good old deacons, 
 of course, resented these insults ; but then the system had to go. It received its 
 first official blow at Worcester, August 5th, 1779. A public meeting was called 
 to consider whether they should sing in the "usual way or in the rulable way." 
 " It was then decided by a vote that the singers sit in the rear seats, on the men's 
 side, and the mode of singing be without reading the Psalm line byline." The 
 following Sunday Deacon Chamberlain arose in the meeting in order to fulfill his 
 time-honored duty of lining out the Psalms, but the singers made no pause. Still, 
 the deacon read on till overpowered, when he took his hat and, with tears in 
 his eyes, retired. This was the first organization of a choir, and, as you see, it 
 started with a fight. Deacon Chamberlain was censured, and the choir rested on 
 their laurels. Another deacon revenged himself by waiting until the choir had 
 finished, when he gravely arose and said : "Now let the people of God worship 
 by singing such and such a Psalm." At the same time he looked at the choir 
 as much as to say, "Whose people are you? " The struggle went on, but the 
 deacons finally had to surrender. 
 
 Having thus gained two great victories, the choirs introduced still greater 
 changes. Now came a multitude of new tunes, and with them the bass viol, com- 
 monly called in those days " the Lord's fiddle ;" there came also the small violin, 
 that profane instrument the "devil's tunebox," as some churches named it, and 
 all this under the guise of assisting in starting the tune. Deacons and ministers 
 resisted these innovations, and people took sides. Thence churches in those days
 
 102 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 were distinguished as catgut and anti-catgut churches. A good old deacon, when 
 giving out the Psalm, said, with much irony in his face, " Now let us fiddle and 
 sing in praise of God such and such a Psalm." Still another, when hearing the 
 violins, became very daring ; he took his hat, danced a while before the pulpit, 
 and then, as gracefully as he could, skipped down the aisle and out of the church. 
 These deacons were, of course, reprimanded, and the choir chuckled and laughed. 
 Do you ask where and how all this ended? In an old record in Hanover 
 church, 1805, we read that money was voted to repair the bass viol, and to put 
 cushions (?) in the singers' seats. Now came also flute and horn, and all that 
 without further resistance on the part of the people or church authorities. 
 
 Strange to say, while the good people of New England churches sanctioned the 
 orchestra, and that poorly played, they still fought against the organ as the instru- 
 ment of the devil and the Pope. When an attempt was made in 1713 to intro- 
 duce an organ in Boston, the instrument remained unpacked on the porch of the 
 church for nine months. When the Dean of Berkshire presented an organ to 
 the town in 1735, it was decided not to accept the gift, because the organ, as an 
 instrument of the devil, was designed to entrap men's souls. Since 1830 organs 
 have, however, become more common in New England churches. As new 
 churches were erected galleries were put in for the use of the choirs, where they 
 sat often a hundred strong. Quartette choirs are a modern institution. The 
 choirs were recruited every spring out of the past winter's singing-school, which 
 was kept open two evenings in the week, and that at the expense of the church. 
 
 As choirs increased, new books flooded the market ; singing-schools and choirs 
 were organized from Maine to Georgia, and so rapid was the progress, that the 
 people could not follow they surrendered everything, and finally sat in silence. 
 It would be a waste of time to mention all the books that now appeared ; it is 
 enough to say that the trade, in connection with compilers of books, dictated what 
 churches were to sing. The pioneers of American church music were Wm. 
 Billings and Oliver Holden, both Boston men, and bora in the middle of the last 
 century. Many books became popular, but none perhaps exceeded the sales of 
 Lowell Mason's " Carmina Sacra," of which a million copies were scattered over 
 the country. 
 
 But we have not yet overcome the modernizing spirit. Our churches have not 
 yet arrived at any positive rules concerning church music. With the Sunday 
 school came also a new style of music. Children were willing at first to use the 
 regular church tunes ; they knew nothing else and asked for nothing else. But 
 soon there was a cry raised against the old church music as being too stiff, too old 
 fogy, too unmelodious for children. The little ones suddenly needed some induce- 
 ments to draw them into the Sunday-school, and one of these inducements was 
 to be lively tunes. The trade soon supplied the article desired. The first real 
 departure in this direction was made by Bradbury. Before speaking more fully 
 of our modern Sunday-school music, allow me to say, that I shall have no criti- 
 cisms to make of the texts read them carefully and judge for yourselves. Neither 
 am I unmindful of the fact that at least some of our so-called Gospel hymns have 
 become a power, and that I speak not indiscriminately against all of them. On 
 certain occasions it is proper to use themespecially is this true of home singing 
 around the fireside.
 
 CHURCH MUSIC. 103 
 
 To sum up all the good points that can be claimed for our Sunday-school music, 
 I would state, that it is easily learned, readily remembered, and, by reason of its 
 popular character, it fosters congregational singing. When, however, this music 
 is weighed, it is found wanting in what? In dignity, in solidity, in strength 
 elements which are very essential to good church music. 
 
 Rhythm is the most striking trait of secularism in music, and it becomes vulgar 
 in the same proportion as it is crowded into the foreground. Rhythm lends 
 character to a musical composition, and without it music cannot exist. The 
 ancients knew this. Plutarch already raised his voice against voluptuous rhyth- 
 mical music. If rhythm is essential to music, it is also its lowest element. The 
 ruder a people the more they love rhythmical noises. The beating of a drum 
 excites an Indian to ferocious deeds. The Hindoos never sing without their 
 talaams and tamtams. The Persians accompany their singing with snapping of 
 fingers. The Australians beat sticks together while shouting out their rough 
 songs. The Spaniards dance to the sound of tambourines and castanets, two 
 instruments neither of which produce a melody. The negroes are remarkable for 
 their strong rhythmical feeling. 
 
 Rhythm principally touches the sensual element of our natures. If rhythm 
 predominates, melody and harmony usually are the sufferers ; just as the spirit 
 suffers when the body largely predominates. Rhythm is the ruling element of the 
 dance ; the dance-rhythm touches our nerves, and, as the saying is, it makes our 
 feet move. A dance consists simply of a pleasing melody, with plain harmony 
 and a decided rhythm ; and here let me add that these are exactly the ingredients 
 of most of our modern Sunday-school music, and also of many Gospel hymn- 
 tunes. It is but natural that such music should be popular with children and 
 the uneducated. 
 
 If the art, however, is an agent for good, the church should only use it in its 
 purest forms, for then religion is to be benefited by it. The question I desire to 
 put to the ministry is this : Can the church afford to use such music which 
 appeals, appealing as it does, to the lower nature of man? Can the church 
 afford to abuse an art, though she aim thereby to improve the condition of man? 
 The art, being a gift of God, ought to be used conscientiously, especially so by 
 those who profess to love and serve God. Surely we could not afford to decorate 
 our church walls with coarsely drawn pictures in order to please the uneducated. 
 Yet in musical matters we do this very thing. Would it be safe to fill our 
 Sunday-school libraries with novels and silly stories in order to please uneducated 
 children? Yet the modern Sunday-school tunes are the silly stories of church 
 music. The rhythmical element is strangly developed in it ; hence these tunes 
 are often converted into dances, they are heard played at parades and picnics, 
 minstrels with blackened faces sing and play them. Hilarious young people, 
 coming home from picnics and parties, are known to have sung " Sweet By and 
 By," "Hold the Fort," and tunes like these. Surely such popularity cannot be 
 a credit to any church music. The old and calmer church tunes have never thus 
 been popularized, neither is it desirable that they should be. 
 
 The body is a creature of habits. Pleasures of the body are apt to lose their 
 charm the truth, the spirit alone abideth. It is for this reason that such Sun- 
 day-school music soon loses its power, and we hear constantly that children
 
 104 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 need new music, they have grown tired of their old. In order to continue this 
 interest in the Sabbath school the church is forced to supply from time to time 
 still more rhythmical music, and the question now is, how low shall we sink? 
 The church cannot afford to gratify the carnal man in one thing and oppose him 
 in another. The church should create and satisfy demands of aesthetic emotions, 
 and should not use the art to foster sensualism, for there is danger that musical 
 sensualism may produce its effects upon religion itself. It is alarming to notice 
 how ministers regard these melodies as a power in the church, and how frequently 
 they are used in order to produce that sentimentalism and nervous excitement 
 which many mistake for religious fervor ; hence these tunes are used especially 
 when revivals are the object of religious services. The church was blessed with 
 revivals long before these tunes were known. I believe in revivals of religion, 
 but only in such as are preceded by much prayer and humiliation. Alas ! the 
 Gospel wagon moves too slow in these days of railroads and electricity. Men 
 seem unwilling to wait patiently on the Lord's coming, so these tunes are used, 
 and though the fact is never stated, it is nevertheless true, that they are used 
 for the purpose of creating sentiment, which is supposed to be religious fervor. 
 The people, especially younger folks, with all their strong emotional natures, are 
 often influenced by these tunes, and when under their influence they decide to 
 join the church. Be it far from me to sit in judgment over any one's religious 
 professions, but, young gentlemen, it will be one of your duties to sit in judgment 
 over those who seek church fellowship. Be careful to ascertain whether the con- 
 version is thorough, or whether it merely seems so. Mere sentimentality does not 
 last long, it needs many props ; and a church member whose religious life must 
 be sustained by sentimental food, is usually very unreliable and often troublesome 
 as well. This is the sort of people who supply your stock of backsliders and 
 formal Christians. 
 
 Ministers alone are not to blame for this ; nay, the church at large is guilty 
 of wrong, for ministerial successes are but too often measured by mere acces- 
 sions to the church, and not by a high standard of piety. People look too 
 much to the number of sheaves a minister gathers, unmindful of the quality 
 of the gram. 
 
 The change for worse began in the Sunday school, and there also must begin the 
 work of reform. The fact was overlooked that children, while singing this 
 flimsy music, acquired bad musical tastes ; and was it reasonable to suppose that 
 when these children came to join the church there would also come change of 
 musical taste along with a change of heart? Certainly not. The young church 
 members still preferred their own light music, and disliked the hymns and tunes 
 of the sanctuary as old fogy stuff, and too unmelodious. Thus young converts 
 found themselves, in matters of music at least, in antagonism with the older 
 members, who preferred the old tunes. 
 
 But, then, the music of to-day, like the music of ten and twenty years ago, 
 must pass away, and the question is still unanswered as to where we shall stop. 
 Where and when will the church call a halt ! But how shall this evil for such 
 I call it be overcome ? Surely its eradication will not be accomplished as long 
 as the ministry fails to see the evil. The beginning of the reform should be to 
 use at least some of the regular hymns and tunes in the Sabbath school Teach
 
 CHURCH MUSIC. 105 
 
 the child to love that which is good, and when it haa grown up to manhood 
 and womanhood, it will continue to love it. 
 
 Church music which is revered, and which children hear from their youth up, 
 is sure to become a power hi the sanctuary. As it is, however, our music ia 
 unstable as a reed in the wind, hence it cannot become that power which it is 
 designed to be. The evil is long-standing, and so, likewise, will the cure be slow 
 and tedious. But no matter how difficult the cure may be, nothing is gained by 
 delay. It certainly was easier to step down to the sensational and the flippant, 
 than it will be to step up to the good, the true and the solid. 
 
 Much has been said and written on the subject of church music ; men, however, 
 differ widely in their views concerning its mission. What, then, is the mission 
 of church music ? There are those who view it as a pastime, a mere means of 
 destroying the monotony of the services. Others view it as a sort of a concert, 
 designed to entertain and to attract people to church. Still others regard it as a 
 concession to the people, who would otherwise take no active part outwardly in 
 the devotional exercises on Sunday. Some look upon church music as a means 
 of arousing emotions and of opening the heart for the reception of the Word. 
 There are still others who claim that it is the object of church music to raise 
 worshipers to a higher religious sentiment, to refine their feelings, and to dispel 
 worldly thoughts. Much of all this is true and correct, but church music is more 
 than all this. It ought to be the purest praise which intelligent creatures can 
 offer to their Creator and Benefactor. This is, indeed, a most serious act, the 
 first characteristics of which ought to be heartiness and sincerity. He who sings 
 in such a frame of mind will not likely indulge in criticism about the singing of 
 others, no matter how plain their voices may be. 
 
 Religion does not instill boldness, it does not make us over-confident, neither 
 does it give us over to despair. Church music should, therefore, be favorable to 
 calm reflection ; it should be purely spiritual, never appealing to the sensual man ; 
 it should subdue passion, and not arouse it. The less prominent its rhythm is, 
 the better for it. 
 
 World and church are opposites, so should worldly music and church music be 
 opposites. When visiting one of the cathedrals of Europe, we are impressed with 
 its grandeur, and although there may be no worship held within its ancient walls 
 at the time of our visit, one feels a holy awe, scarcely a whisper escapes our lips, 
 for we feel as if God were very near. So, when hearing church music, we should 
 at once recognize the fact that it is not worldly music we hear. 
 
 There are many ways of worshiping and praising God, by singing hymns or 
 Psalms, by using organs or by singing without them : but whatever your mode 
 of worship may be, try always to perfect it, remembering that God loves the 
 perfect better than the imperfect. Do not despise art. As God is all-wise and 
 all-merciful, so is He also the concentration of all that is beautiful. Art is a 
 manifestation of the all-beautiful ; hence, it is a revelation of God. Let your 
 choirs, then, cultivate art, let them sing the grandest and best our masters have 
 produced, but never surrender congregational singing. Do not yield it under any 
 circumstances, for it is not only your privilege but also your solemn duty to praise 
 your Maker with your own lips. Let there be progress in all things, in your 
 singing not less than in your moral life. Good singing tunes the heart and makes
 
 106 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 it ready for the reception of the Word. Good singing inspires the minister, it 
 unites the people, it impresses the mind deeply with lessons and Scriptural truths. 
 Good singing makes you happier and better, thus the very praise which God 
 commands you to offer is turned into a rich, never-ceasing fountain of blessings. 
 Allow me to add a few practical "Hints for Ministers," after which I will close 
 my discourse. 
 
 In many churches people rush their hymns through as if they were impatient 
 to be done with this exercise. I fear many people sing hymns merely as music, 
 and not as an act of worship ; hence, the subject of singing praise ought to be 
 explained to the people. Hasty songs, like hasty prayers, do not amount to 
 much. On the other hand, you must guard against dragging, which also is 
 injurious to the dignity of divine worship. The organist must regulate this 
 largely, and unless he appreciates the sentiment of the hymns, unless he is in 
 sympathy with the act of worship, you will be apt to have defective congrega- 
 tional singing. From this it follows that the organist should be more than master 
 of his instrument. He should be a good player and a true Christian. This leads 
 me also to say a few words about employing singers who lack religious sentiment. 
 If the singing of praise is an act of worship, then the heart, and the whole heart, 
 as well as the voice, should be employed in this act. As well might we employ an 
 eloquent Ingersoll to preach for us, provided he would abstain from that which is 
 heterodox. Yet all thinking persons would call him a hypocrite, and his words 
 would be without effect, no matter how we might have admired his oratorical 
 powers. The same is true of singers. They may sing with great skill, but it is 
 the heart only that gives weight to the act in the sight of God. This is the 
 central idea of worship in all its forms. Said a soprano singer one rainy Sunday 
 morning, ' ' I suppose we will not sing our anthem to-day, for there is scarcely 
 anybody here." My answer was as quick, as it was emphatic, "We shah 1 sing 
 this anthem if there be nobody here but the preacher ; for we sing not for the 
 people, we sing in praise of Him whose Spirit is ever present. Let me enjoin it 
 upon you, always to realize this fact. ' ' 
 
 Another point I desire to touch upon is this : many ministers, when selecting 
 their hymns, pay attention only to the words and not to the music. They are 
 satisfied if the hymn suits the subject of their sermon, forgetting, at the same 
 time, that the people are expected to sing the tune. This lack of judgment often 
 disturbs a service that might otherwise have been called perfect. The poor 
 singing of a hymn puts everybody ill at ease ; yes, it often tones down the fervor 
 and zeal of the minister, while, if the mistake occurs at the close of the service, it 
 is apt to wipe away many good impressions. If you wish the people to sing, give 
 them music which they can sing. There are many tunes in our hymnals that are 
 not fit for the people's use, and why they were admitted into that book I cannot 
 tell Moreover, we have too many hymns and tunes as it is ; as a people, we 
 cannot become familiar with them all. There is a disposition on the part of 
 hymn-book compilers to reach out for chips from operas, oratorios, popular music 
 of any kind, which is usually presented in a garbled and mangled condition, 
 neither fit for the choir nor the congregation. There are in every church plenty 
 of poor singers, and this is all the more a reason why only plain and easy music 
 should be used. Let churches hold praise-meetings from time to time ; see to it
 
 CHURCH MUSIC. 107 
 
 that you have a leader who knows how to present his lessons both from a religious 
 and a musical standpoint ; let the people begin with plain familiar tunes, and aim 
 first at perfection in the singing of these, before you take in hand new tunes. If 
 the people learn once to sing certain tunes well, the act of praise will become 
 more and more a source of delight. Let a people once be put on the road of 
 improvement, and they will take pleasure in walking therein. The American 
 people love song, Christian people love to sing. The problem is what means 
 should we use in order that we may have good singing. If our youth were 
 properly instructed in the Sabbath school our congregational singing would 
 rapidly improve as well. Alas ! the church hymns and tunes are denounced as 
 unfit for children, they are excluded from the Sabbath-school exercises, and, as 
 has been said, it is unreasonable to expect young worshippers to like at eleven 
 o'clock what was denounced or ignored at nine. 
 
 Now only a few words about the relations of the Pastor to the choir. There 
 are many and varied opinions on this subject ; of course, these relations must some- 
 what differ among the various denominations, but in their essentials they are the 
 same. If the minister is placed over the house of God as a spiritual guide, he 
 should, also, rule choirs ; he should watch over the music of the sanctuary. But 
 if he would rule intelligently he should also know something about music, and no 
 doubt the time is coming when a course of musical lectures will be regarded by 
 theological seminaries as a necessity. There is no minister living who has resting 
 upon his shoulders as many heavy burdens and perplexing duties as had Martin 
 Luther, yet in the midst of his arduous duties he found time to practice and to 
 study music. Why should not as much be expected of the theological students? 
 Ministerial ignorance in musical matters often is the cause of much mischief, it is 
 often! the first cause of disturbances in choirs. Says Mr. A. : Why should the 
 preacher presume to dictate to us what we shall sing or how we shall sing it, 
 when he knows nothing about the art ? It is for this reason that many organists 
 and choir-leaders say, let the preacher attend to his end of the church and we 
 will attend to ours. Pray, where is the line that divides the two ends? Such a 
 spirit is wrong, and is sure to be productive of hurtful results. This ignorance 
 in musical matters causes many ministers to step very lightly when they approach 
 their choirs, for they see danger, and feel their helplessness. No matter how 
 prudent a preacher may be when making suggestions to choirs, there is danger of 
 an explosion. There are found choirs, made up of Christian people, that get 
 along peaceably, because of their character and interest hi the church as well as 
 their love for their pastor. So one finds even here and there a choir made up of 
 non-Christian people, that do their duty as they are asked to do it by the minister, 
 but in such cases it is usually found that either the great personal influence, or 
 perchance the musical culture of the minister, keeps the singers in the line of 
 duty. Such choirs, however, are few and far between. Let ministers guard 
 their rights of supervision over choirs, let them not surrender the least of them, 
 for there is no telling what the outcome will be if preachers fail to keep watch 
 over the music of the church. Alas! many preachers fall asleep, or pretend 
 to see nothing, whenever a question arises with which the choir is connected. 
 Of course, young gentlemen, be prudent, use judgment and skill, when you 
 handle these musical bombs, but rather than yield to that which you deem
 
 108 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 wrong, I advise you to burst that bomb, even if it costs you your position. The 
 next pastor, at least, has the benefit of your courage. Some churches, like some 
 cities, never seem to learn true lessons of good government and moderation until 
 a bomb or two has been exploded. The kind-hearted minister, the gentle, 
 loving and long-suffering servant of God, who has the heart of his people, who, 
 to use a vulgar phrase, is backed by his people, as a rule, may safely walk in and 
 out of these musical powder magazines, yet I have known even such inadvertently 
 to step on a Lucifer match and blow up everything. Let me urge it upon you to 
 post yourselves on musical matters, acquire some musical knowledge, so that you 
 may be true leaders, in fact as well as in name. To give you some information 
 on the subject of musical history, to arouse you to action with regard to our 
 Sabbath-school music, to point out a few of the sharp corners on which you may 
 hurt yourselves when in active life, was the object of my lecture. If I have 
 done you the least service, I shall feel amply repaid for my trouble. With the 
 words of the Psalmist I will close my discourse : 
 
 "Praise ye the Lord. Praise God in his sanctuary. Praise him in the firma- 
 ment of his power. Praise him for his mighty acts. Praise him according to 
 his excellent greatness. Praise him with the sound of the trumpet. Praise him 
 with psaltery and harp. Praise him with the timbrel and dance. Praise him 
 with stringed instruments and organs. Praise him upon the loud cymbals. 
 Praise him upon the high-sounding cymbals. Let everything that has breath 
 praise the Lord. Praise ye the Lord."
 
 HINTS TO PUPILS. 
 
 1. You are a student of the University. Observe all the rules of the institu- 
 tion. 
 
 2. To master an art requires much time and close application. Be diligent. 
 
 3. Do not constantly look to the end of your studies ; look more to the daily 
 steps you take. Do your daily duty as well as you can, for then you will, at the 
 end of the year, have cause to feel satisfied with your progress. 
 
 4. To attempt to do in one day what should be done in two, crowds your 
 work and over-taxes your strength. This is sure to lead to bad results. Neglect, 
 therefore, none of your daily duties. 
 
 5. There is no short-cut in mastering an art ; there are no jumps ! 
 
 6. No matter how gifted your teacher may be, remember that you yourself 
 must labor hard in order to attain success. 
 
 7. You have no right to expect your teacher to take a deep interest in your 
 progress if you yourself are not interested in your studies. 
 
 8. Remember your parents spend their money, while your teacher spends his 
 time, in order to advance you. Use these means conscientiously. 
 
 9. If you do not mean to be a good student, do not enter this department. 
 
 10. Have regular practice hours, and never deviate from your plan of work 
 unless there is a good cause for it. 
 
 11. Never practice listlessly ; always have your whole mind and heart in your 
 Work. Know what you do and why you do it. Always hear yourself while 
 practicing. Watch the tones you produce. 
 
 12. Practice slowly, for thus alone will you secure a correct impression of a 
 composition. 
 
 13. When practicing by yourself, count loud and regularly. 
 
 14. He who uses bad tools is almost sure to do poor work. The pianist who 
 fails to play technical studies will play with a stiff hand ; he will do poor work. 
 Playing technical studies is for the pianist what the sharpening of the tools is 
 for the mechanic. 
 
 15. Do not play a piece over ten or twelve times try to master the difficult 
 places. 
 
 16. When tired or nervous, cease practicing. Take care of your health. 
 
 17. Watch your fingering. Good fingering is for the pianist what a good road 
 is for the traveler ; it facilitates motion. 
 
 18. Always phrase correctly. 
 
 19. Remember it is easy to acquire bad habits, but it is difficult to correct them. 
 The correction of bad habits in playing or singing consumes much precious time. 
 Always do your work so that you may not have to undo it. 
 
 109
 
 110 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 20. Strive to enter into the spirit of the composition you study. By playing 
 the notes merely, your playing is not artistic. Let music awaken in you 
 sympathy and love. Unless it produces these results your studies are in vain. 
 It is the object of your musical education both to awaken and refine sentiment. 
 
 21. Study your lesson until you have mastered it. Then review the past work. 
 He who neglects the pieces learned, is like the laborer, who, after earning the 
 money by hard toil, places it in pockets with holes in them. After reviewing 
 you may also try your skill on new things and practice sight reading. 
 
 22. Measure not your progress by the number of pieces you play, but by the 
 manner in which you play them, as well as by the character of the music that 
 you study. 
 
 23. Do not imagine that you are making progress in attempting to play a diffi- 
 cult piece. Only what you can play well and what you know, is your own ; not 
 what you choose to put into your portfolio. 
 
 24. The playing of a concerto or the singing of a great aria, represents as 
 much brain labor, and surely as much patient toil, as does the mastery of a lan- 
 guage or a science. 
 
 25. In your intercourse with fellow-students as well as with musicians in gen- 
 eral, indulge neither in jealousy nor envy. Always put art before yourself; never 
 yourself before art. The jealous and envious musician has not true music in his 
 heart, for music is love. 
 
 26. Strive to reach perfection. After tasting the pleasures of perfection in 
 one piece, you will be sure to aim at it in all your work. 
 
 27. Have confidence in yourself, but keep vanity out of the heart. 
 
 28. Carelessness in forming habits, negligence in doing your work, indulgence 
 in vanity or in envy while engaged in your musical studies, are sure to affect your 
 whole character. 
 
 29. Keep your music and piano in good order. The piano-lid reveals your 
 character. Have your piano tuned whenever it is needed. 
 
 30. Be punctual in corning for your lesson. 
 
 31. Feel sure of a hearty welcome. Never be afraid to ask questions. 
 
 32. Be cheerful while being corrected. 
 
 33. Be grateful to all your teachers, for they are good friends of yours. 
 
 34. Study harmony and musical history. Without the mastery of these 
 studies, you will always be a one-sided musician. 
 
 35. Read good books on music, and musical journals. Read also good books 
 on other subjects than music. 
 
 36. Hear good players and singers whenever you can. 
 
 37. Mingle among musicians, converse with them about your art. Seek the 
 instruction of more than one teacher, for every good teacher has his or her points 
 of superiority. Never beh'ttle another teacher or his work. 
 
 38. Be more than a mere player or singer. Be an intelligent, many-sided 
 musician ; a thinking and fine-feeling musician. 
 
 39. View your art as a precious gift. See to it that you use it properly, and 
 do not neglect to thank the Giver:
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 
 
 When I appear before you as the advocate of the Beautiful and of ^Esthetic 
 culture, I am not unmindful of the fact that this subject has, of late years, 
 suffered in public estimation through the efforts of that apostle of sestheticism, 
 Oscar Wilde. But say what we will about him, we must give him credit 
 for this virtue, that the end at which he aimed was a good one. Had he been a 
 manly man, had he dressed like sensible people, had he cut his hair short for in 
 these days long-haired men and short-haired women are, as a rule, looked upon 
 with suspicion he would no doubt have spoken to more willing ears. As it is, 
 his influence seems to have spent itself in one direction mainly. Instead of 
 planting sun-flowers in the rear of our garden patches, and giving the seeds to 
 the chickens as feed, we now plant them in the front yard, and many maidens 
 wear the big yellow flowers in their belts. 
 
 I therefore invite your attention to the question, What is the Beautiful? 
 without promising, however, that I will answer it, and for the simple reason that 
 the Beautiful, being concentrated in God, is infinite and cannot be fully under- 
 stood by the finite mind. 
 
 Wieland said, "the Beautiful can only be felt, but cannot be expressed." 
 Nevertheless, throughout all ages men have endeavored to do what Wieland said 
 could not be done. The greatest minds of all ages have busied themselves 
 speculating about the Beautiful, yet very few among the philosophers that have 
 written on this subject, have advanced new theories. 
 
 It is at any time difficult to give a correct definition of an abstract term, and 
 this difficulty makes itself felt in a special manner when attempting to say in 
 words what the Beautiful means. Writers have said that all things which are 
 pleasing to the eye and to the ear are beautiful. It is true, the Beautiful is 
 pleasing to the eye and the ear, but, for all this, the definition is exceedingly 
 vague, for not all things that please the eye and the ear are necessarily beautiful. 
 Let me illustrate. I have heard hungry German students go into ecstacy over 
 the beauty of sausage ! No matter how pleasing a sight it may be when nicely 
 browned, it is after all a very prosaic sort of an object. The hungry man is apt 
 to see beauty in everything calculated to satisfy his cravings. I have heard men 
 sing praises of their meerschaums, and no doubt they were things of beauty in 
 their sight ; to others they were mere loud-smelling objects. I have heard ladies 
 go into ecstacy over what they called a bonnet. Who doubts the fact that to them 
 it was a thing of beauty ? To men it was an object of ridicule. I have heard 
 ladies speak with rapture of the lover's language, as it was whispered into their 
 ears. I doubt not the words of my fair friends, but while love's language is 
 
 111
 
 112 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 beautiful to them, to disinterested persons it sounds absurd aud far-fetched, and 
 often deserves to be denounced as a pack of exaggerations. 
 
 Wben speaking of things that are pleasing to the eye and the ear, the question 
 arises : Whose eyes and ears are pleased ? And then comes the second question : 
 Whose eyes and ears are to be regarded as the standard for all others ? Human 
 eyes do not see alike, nor do human ears hear alike. They are mere agencies 
 that lead impressions to the brain, and in this operation they are often very 
 defective and delusive. But granted we all were to see and hear alike, are our 
 minds not so constituted that they differ widely in their operations, in their power 
 of receiving and assimilating impressions ? But granted all minds were alike 
 gifted in this respect, would we not still discover a vast diversity in our emotions 
 and in the training produced by early impressions and surroundings? Even 
 if we felt alike and enjoyed the same opportunities for culture, men would still 
 differ in the operations of their imaginations, for this gives a thousand colorings 
 to objects and situations, to thoughts and sentiments, and these colorings must 
 be peculiar to the individual. The true human standard lies in the recognition 
 of the best minds, a recognition which must endure for all ages ; for that which 
 is really beautiful cannot become ugly, no matter how tastes may change and 
 how far art may progress. The ait-works of the ancient Grecians are beau- 
 tiful to-day ; indeed, I am inclined to believe that we are better qualified to 
 appreciate their beauty than were the Grecian people themselves. Palestrina 
 lived centuries ago, Bach and Handel were born two hundred years ago ; and 
 although there is an almost immeasurable distance between these men and 
 Wagner, their works are still considered beautiful. 
 
 When I speak of a human tribunal concerning the Beautiful, I mean one 
 which is infallibly sure, instantaneous to perceive and to appreciate that which 
 is beautiful in art. Least of all, is there to be found a tribunal which is qualified 
 to comprehend fully the essence of the Beautiful, and to lay down infallible laws 
 for the artist. When men measure the depth of the sea they sink lines with 
 lead attached to them. So, says a writer, our intellects fathom the depths of the 
 arts and literature. But what a difference there is in the length of the mental 
 strings! All human beings no doubt derive more or less pleasure from the 
 Beautiful ; indeed, the power of enjoying it is inborn ; it is a gift of God ; it is an 
 evidence of our divine nature. But, for all that, we differ widely in the degree 
 of our enjoyment of the beautiful. Some have strings only a few inches long, 
 while others have only chips attached to them, which cannot sink. Yet persons 
 of this class are most ready in the expression of then- views ; they are the most 
 hasty and the severest critics. No matter how long the lines may be, it must be 
 accepted as a truism that none have as yet reached the bottom of the art sea, 
 and no matter how far we shall progress, none will ever reach it. No one can see 
 the All-Beautiful, no one can conceive of it ; and for this reason there can be no 
 positive human standard either for the eye or the ear, or for the brain, the 
 emotions or the imagination. Art is unlimited, and it is as free as it is unlimited. 
 The human race is progressive, and I conceive it to be our great mission ever to 
 progress toward the perfectly Beautiful, which is concentrated in the Deity. 
 
 The definition, therefore, that that which is pleasing to the eye and the ear is 
 or constitutes the Beautiful, is not a good one. The same is true of Webster's
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 113 
 
 definition. He says the Beautiful is an assemblage of graces or of properties 
 which please the eye or the ear, or the other senses of the mind. Let me 
 put by the side of this the diversity of human tastes and styles of beauty as 
 admired by different nations as well as by individuals. Allow me to quote 
 Voltaire, whose opinion I give merely in connection with this subject, not because 
 I endorse either his religious or social views. Said he : "To the toad, a yellow 
 throat, two round eyes and a big mouth are objects of beauty ; to the Hottentot 
 it is a black skin, thick lips and "a flat nose." What a distance from such an 
 ideal of the beautiful to that represented by an Apollo Belvedere or a Venus de 
 Medici. Again, look at the pleasure the uneducated derive from a French harp, 
 and how far above them stand those who admire Beethoven's symphonies, 
 Handel's oratorios, etc. We will therefore accept it as a fact that the term 
 Beautiful can no more be defined than we can define the sensation of seeing, 
 hearing or feeling. "Beauty," says a writer, "is a sense of the soul, and every- 
 thing that touches this sense is beautiful." Indefinite as this is, it is far better 
 than either of the other definitions I have quoted. In order to excite this sense 
 God has made this world beautiful, and he has given us this sense, evidently 
 meaning thereby that we shall cultivate it, and that it shall be made one of the 
 avenues which shall lead us to Him, who is the All-Beautiful. 
 
 The Beautiful was a favorite subject of speculation among the ancient 
 Grecians. Though they had no correct idea of God they sought the Deity 
 for the source of the Beautiful. Thales, who lived toward the close of the 
 seventh century, B. C., one of the seven wise men, and by many considered the 
 first who speculated on the constitution of the universe, said that "the Cosmos, 
 as the art-work of the gods, is the Beautiful." In other words, that the Beau- 
 tiful, as concentrated in the Deity, is expressed and manifested in the creation. 
 This is the foundation-stone upon which rest all ancient as well as modern specu- 
 lations on this subject. Pythagoras, who lived 570, B. C., and who is called 
 the founder of what is known as the Italic School of Philosophy, teaches that as 
 God Himself is the All-Good, the Harmony of liberty and necessity, so are all 
 His works impressed with the principles of harmony. Nature has her contrasts, 
 but these are blended in harmony. This unity in multiplicity, this harmony in 
 contrasts, Pythagoras defines to be the Beautiful. His teachings are also based 
 upon the idea that in the Deity we find the source of the Beautiful in its per- 
 fection. 
 
 Heraclitus assumes a similar theory. He said that the world consists of con- 
 trasts, but that the Deity brings harmony out of these contrasts. This harmony, 
 he teaches, is also found in the arts. There is contrast but also unity in the 
 colors of a painting ; there are high and low, long and short tones in music, yet 
 all make sweet melody. 
 
 An American writer said that "Plato was the first who speculated upon the 
 Beautiful." This, as I have already shown, is an error. Plato's name is, how- 
 ever, closely connected with this subject. While he has said much that is 
 interesting, we must bear in mind these two facts : First, he never gave a system 
 of his own. Second, he never separated the Beautiful from the Good. The sum 
 and substance of what he has said may be expressed in these words : The founda- 
 tion of the Beautiful is a reasonable, order addressed to the imagination through
 
 114 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 the senses; that is, symmetry in form, harmony in sound, the principles of 
 which are certain as the laws of logic, mathematics and morals, all equally neces- 
 sary products of the Eternal Intellect, whom we call God. Thus Plato, like his 
 predecessors, ascribed the Beautiful to that source of all force, the Creator of the 
 universe, the sum of whose exalted attributes he calls " to Agathon," the Good. 
 Plato refers to this subject in detached sentences, and it would be difficult to 
 formulate a complete system out of his discourses. He distinctly says that " God 
 is the All- Wise, the All-Good and the All-Beautiful." Of these three ideas 
 Plato regards the All-Good as the highest, for it approaches nearest to the Deity. 
 Out of this spring the other two ideas, those of the All-Wise and the All- 
 Beautiful. The boundary line between these two, he claims, is difficult to 
 draw ; for the Good plays over into the Beautiful, so that persons are often 
 misled. Everything good, true and beautiful has its foundation in harmony. 
 Virtue is the health and beauty of the soul, vice is sickness and deformity. 
 Plato makes distinctions in the grades of beauty. First, he regards the beauty 
 of the body ; second, the beauty of soul ; third, beauty of wisdom and knowl- 
 edge ; fourth, the beauty of the Divine Idea. Everything earthly, he teaches, 
 is in so far beautiful, as it partakes of the beauty of God. He who has the most 
 perfect body and purest soul is, according to Plato, the best representative of the 
 Beautiful. The effects of the Beautiful are joy, happiness and love. The 
 Beautiful, therefore, be it represented in colors, in tones or in words, is pro- 
 ductive of pleasant sensations and an agreeable state of satisfaction. This he 
 explains through the theory of pre-existence, according to which every soul had, 
 before its birth, while it was yet with God, also Godlike ideas of the Beautiful. 
 Hence, when the soul sees anything beautiful, it is instantly affected by it, for it 
 is suddenly seized by the recollection of its original home, for every earthly beauty 
 is but a reflection of heavenly beauty. Thus Plato tries to explain why we are 
 so powerfully moved when seeing fine art works, when hearing beautiful music 
 or when reading grand poetry, and why they so often make us sad ; for they 
 produce in us a longing for our former home of joy or a state of perfect bliss. In 
 other words, art makes us homesick for Heaven, our real abiding-place. 
 
 Aristotle thought that the Beautiful was created with the good and the true, and 
 that its main characteristics are order and limit. According to his theory the 
 Beautiful consists of definite quality and quantity, of correct arrangement and 
 perfect symmetry of parts. Hence neither a very small nor a very large animal, 
 according to Aristotle, can be beautiful. Small tilings are only pretty and well- 
 proportioned. The idea that the Beautiful calls forth love, was so self-evident 
 to him, that when he was asked for an explanation, he said that this was the 
 question of a blind man. 
 
 Aristotle's theories were for several centuries accepted as the only correct ones ; 
 here and there only, an idea from Plato and Pythagoras was mixed in with them. 
 The only philosopher after Aristotle who wrote with authority and originality on 
 this subject was Plotinus, who lived 250 B. C. He was the most important 
 philosopher of the new Platonic school, and his system in the main was based 
 upon Plato's theories. "Usually," says he, "we imagine the Beautiful to be 
 something recognizable through the aid of the eye or the ear, but does not the 
 Beautiful exist more in the spiritual than in the bodily ? Is there not beauty in
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 115 
 
 noble deeds, and in virtues? What then is beautiful? The usual answer is 
 that symmetry is beautiful ; but according to this idea only the complicated 
 things can be beautiful Hence, sunlight, lightning and the ocean cannot be 
 beautiful "This theory," he argues, "is not correct, for we know that sun- 
 light, lightning and the sea are beautiful in themselves." "Our soul," he 
 says further, "is a part of the higher and better world, and when we behold 
 anything relating to it, we are happy." This is, as you will observe, a revival of 
 Plato's theory of pre-existence. 
 
 Says Plotinus, a thing can be beautiful only as it is related to eternal 
 things, only so far as it is connected with divine beauty. Our soul compares its 
 inward idea of the Beautiful with the beauty of the things seen, and if they 
 harmonize, a thing is beautiful This is, in substance, the same theory with 
 which we started out, namely, that that which pleases the eye and the ear is 
 beautiful. The falsity of this theory has been shown, and I shall not, therefore, 
 stop to repeat. But there is a conclusion to be drawn from it, namely, that while 
 tastes and intellects differ, while we have no general standard whereby to measure 
 the Beautiful, it may safely be accepted as a fact that every soul has its own 
 standard of beauty. It is, therefore, perfectly proper for a person to say, I con- 
 sider this object beautiful, while it might be presumptuous to say, it is beautiful. 
 Therefore, when finding an object of beauty which fills our souls and draws forth 
 all our admiration, we may say that we have found our ideal of the Beautiful, 
 but we have no right to say that we have found the ideal. 
 
 As long as the soul is imprisoned in the body, mixed with clay, says the phi- 
 losopher, it cannot be beautiful. When the soul, however, is freed from this 
 tabernacle it regains its beauty. The soul through eternity becomes better and 
 purer ; more like its divine source. Hence it becomes more Godlike, for God 
 is the source of all that is beautiful. All those who seek the Deity are 
 beautiful Blessed are those that hear and see His beauty; miserable are 
 those that hear and see it not. We love the beautiful, furthermore says 
 the philosopher, as something that reminds us of our former existence, and 
 he continues by urging his readers to cleanse their eyes, so that they may see 
 the Spirit- World, for we shall never see the Beautiful until we ourselves have 
 become beautiful. 
 
 Plotinus regards the Beautiful as something immaterial Symmetry and pro- 
 portion are to him the foundation of the Beautiful, but not beauty itself. The 
 Beautiful is that which we perceive in the symmetric and well proportioned. In 
 order to make clear his idea he draws a comparison between a face of a live person 
 and that of one who is dead. The symmetry, he claims, is the same in both, 
 yet there is a beauty in the live face which does not exist in that which is dead. 
 This comparison is penetrable from the fact that there is no beauty in a dead 
 face, unless means have been used to keep it in a condition resembling the live 
 face. If a person dies, the muscles relax, the chin drops, the eyes stare, etc. 
 
 Plotinus says further, that beauty is spiritual, not material. True, divine 
 beauty never appears upon earth. Yes, it is according to his ideas sacrilegious 
 to suppose that divine beauty ever descends upon earth to dwell in vile clay, in 
 filthy, sickly bodies, where it would ever be marred and soiled. Yet Christianity 
 teaches that the divine beauty has dwelt in this "sickly, filthy human body."
 
 116 MUSIC AtfD CULTURE. 
 
 "Let him," says he, tl who would speak slightingly of art, bear in mind this 
 fact, that nature is but an imitation of the divine idea, and in order to make 
 nature appear more perfect the artist draws upon the resources of his own mind. ' ' 
 Yes, the philosopher goes so far as to claim that art is far more perfect than 
 nature, but being without life and therefore soulless, it cannot be perfect. 
 
 I have already said that the heathen philosophers have advanced the theory 
 that the Beautiful is found only in the Deity. Modern learning has added 
 nothing to this. To the contrary, some writers who enjoy the light of Christi- 
 anity endeavor to fix the idea of the Beautiful far lower than did the Grecian 
 writers already quoted. It was but natural that the ideas of the Beautiful as 
 taught by them should be perpetuated by the church Fathers, who were good 
 Greek scholars. The claim, therefore, on their part, that all beauty is divine in 
 its origin and that all created things are beautiful because their Creator is such, 
 is simply a reiteration of the ancient Grecian philosophy ; and when they further 
 say that God, the Father of all spirits, endows men with the powers of imagina- 
 tion and ideals of beauty, they are not far, if any, in advance of these ancient 
 Grecian teachers. 
 
 Before reviewing German philosophy let us hear what English and French 
 writers of modern times have to say on the theory of the Beautiful. 
 
 English writers have in the main speculated on the Beautiful in form and color. 
 That they felt unable to dive into the mysteries of the tone-world was but natural, 
 for while music was loved in England, it never prospered there extensively as an 
 art. Moreover, the English even to this day regard vocal music as the highest 
 and only true form of art. They always subordinated the tone to the word, and 
 speculated whenever saying anything tending that way, from the one to the other. 
 The English sought more to find the Beautiful itself, and not so much the idea 
 of it, as the Germans did. " English philosophy is an answer," says a writer, 
 "to the question, What is it that makes a thing beautiful? Is the Beautiful 
 inherent or is it based upon association ? ' ' 
 
 Shaftesbury entertained Platonic views, but his own peculiar theories are de- 
 nounced as unintelligible. It was he who believed in a sixth sense, for which he 
 was severely criticised by Jeffrey. 
 
 Sir William Hamilton distinguished absolute and relative beauty. " Both the 
 imagination and the understanding find occupation, and the pleasure an object 
 gives us is in proportion to the gratification these faculties derive from it." 
 
 Addison speaks on this topic in his immortal " Spectator," and does so very 
 ingeniously, but without producing anything new. Burke teaches that beauty 
 consists merely in the relaxation of the muscular fibre, but his theory was de- 
 molished with one sentence from Jeffrey's pen, namely, by directing him to a 
 warm bath, if he wished to realize the Beautiful. An able critic when speaking 
 of this author said, that " No work on the Beautiful is as worthless as Burke's, 
 and that none is read as widely as it. " Jeffrey no doubt said a smart and crush- 
 ing word. But there is more in Burke's theory of relaxation than his contem- 
 porary was able to see. I shall refer to this theory again. 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds advanced the idea that beauty consists in mediocrity, or 
 in conformity to that which is most usual. Vox Populi may be Vox Dei in 
 morals, but it is not so in art. This is a low view of the Beautiful, for it robs
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OP THE BEAUTIFUL. 117 
 
 it of its own superiority. Let me add, however, to the credit of Sir Joshua, that 
 his theory is of French and not of English origin. 
 
 Allison attributes beauty to association, in which he leans on Diderot's idea of 
 realism. " If beauty consists merely in association," says a thinker, " then the 
 same is true of deformity, for association is capable of awakening either." The 
 most powerful exposition of this theory of association is that given by Jeffrey. He 
 claims that the emotions seemingly produced by art and objects are the result of 
 association of recollection, but not of art-work themselves. There is some truth 
 in the theory, but it does not hold good for a thorough system. Ruskin and 
 Blakie gave it its death-blow and there is scarcely any one holding it now. 
 
 Ruskin says the term Beauty signifies two things. First the external quality 
 of bodies, which he calls the typical beauty ; and secondly, the appearance 
 of felicitous fulfillment of function in living things, more especially a perfect life 
 in man. This kind of beauty he calls vital Beauty. He further holds that 
 the application of the term Beauty to any other appearance or quality is false. 
 Thus Ruskin recognizes a Beauty of Body and a Beauty of Spirit. Undoubtedly 
 the ideal Beauty, that which constituted the Beautiful, must be the same in 
 both. The great writer denies that the Beautiful is the Useful. He denies that 
 it is dependent on custom or on association. Ruskin is also Platonic in his theo- 
 ries in so far that he seeks the ideal of Beauty in God. 
 
 Spencer teaches that all the aesthetic activity is essentially caused by the play 
 of the mind. He regards the aesthetic pleasure in degree according to the num- 
 ber of powers called into activity. The mere pleasure of sensation derived from 
 tone or color he considers the lowest. A step higher follows the pleasure of per- 
 ceptions derived from a combination of colors and symmetry of form ; the highest 
 are the aesthetic pleasures proper, derived from the varied emotions existing in 
 the mind through association. The idea of association has been rejected by 
 Ruskin, as has just been stated. It also will be noticed that Spencer places the 
 pleasurable sensation of tone and color lowest, while Schopenhauer in his phi. 
 losophy of music, which is regarded as the best thus far produced, places music 
 above all the other arts. 
 
 But, to go a step further, there were philosophers who denied the existence of 
 the Beautiful, simply because it cannot be proven like a geometrical problem ; 
 because mathematics cannot measure and calculate it. Because the Beautiful 
 must have a source they would rather deny the principle, so as not to be com- 
 pelled to acknowledge its divine origin. This applies to Voltaire, who belongs to 
 this class of negative spirits. He says : " Ask a toad what is beautiful and he 
 will tell you, two round eyes, a big mouth and a yellow throat. Ask a Hottentot 
 and he will tell you that beauty is a black skin, thick lips and a flat nose. Ask 
 the Devil," continues he, "and he will say a pah- of horns, four claws and a taiL 
 Inquire of the philosophers and they will answer you in a jargon. " Voltaire 
 would rather ask the Devil, a Hottentot or a toad, than to acknowledge a divine 
 Beauty. But if France has left us the doubtful legacy of Voltaire, she has also 
 left us other writers whose words we must not overlook. 
 
 Diderot declared that beauty was an inherent quality of things, that it was a 
 power to excite sentiments in the mind. Thus far he was Platonic and correct, 
 but he spoiled matters by declaring finally that beauty depends upon relation only.
 
 118 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 Hear what Victor Cousin, another French writer, says: In his "Du Vrai, 
 DuBeau etDu Bien," or the True, the Beautiful and the Good, he declares 
 that "the ideal beauty is found in God." 
 
 And now let us turn our attention to Germany, and hear the opinions of at 
 least a few of her great metaphysical speculators. 
 
 Kant, one of the foremost, if not the most noted philosopher even to this day, 
 says that the sublime cannot be contained in form ; that it can dwell only in the 
 soul of man. He teaches that the Beautiful is of one substance with the Good 
 and True. Accompanying the will and intelligence there is a mysterious factor 
 within us, commonly called the imagination, or, perhaps better, the phantasy, in 
 and through which the Beautiful comes to be recognized. Here, however, the 
 idea is not uttered in action or in thought, but is enshrined in some sensuous 
 form out of which it looks directly upon the soul. There is, therefore, accom- 
 panying the ethical and intelligent worlds an art-work, which challenges our 
 attention as a part of the heritage of man. 
 
 The first in Germany who speculated on the science of the Beautiful, and who 
 invented the word aestheticism, was Baumgarten, a professor at Frankfort-on-the- 
 Oder. With him, the Beautiful is the result of the highest aesthetic percep- 
 tions to the realization of which our finer natures aspire. 
 
 Wieland follows in Kant's footsteps, and claims, as has already been stated, 
 that the Beautiful can only be felt, but can never be explained. Schelling holds 
 to Platonic theories. He teaches that the Beautiful is the eternal, bodily repre- 
 sented, and that the highest beauty is concentrated in God and expressed in the 
 harmony of the universe. Hegel claims that the Beautiful is an idea, bodily 
 represented and realizing itself. There is a ceaseless approximation, a continued 
 attempting to realize it, but no full realization can be attained. He might have gone 
 further without destroying his theory or himself, by saying that this absolute idea 
 exists in God and cannot be realized, because the finite mind cannot comprehend 
 the infinite. 
 
 Schiller is very lucid. He does not admit that the Beautiful is the result of 
 mere limited experience, but pure abstract reflection. It originates in the perfect 
 union of matter and mind, and cannot be mere life or mere form. Schiller sought 
 a path of his own while speculating on the Beautiful, but he could not free him- 
 self from Kant's influence. He says that "the source of all aesthetic pleasure is 
 suitableness. The touching and sublime elicit this feeling, implying the existence 
 of unsuitableness." He further says that "Beauty is the work of free contem- 
 plation, and we enter with it into the world of ideas, but without leaving the 
 world of sense." 
 
 Vischer seeks the Beautiful in history, but be this history sacred or profane, 
 there is much in it that cannot be called beautiful. 
 
 I might here quote also the principles of Winckelmann and others, but this 
 would make my paper too lengthy. 
 
 Hand, who views this subject more from a musical standpoint, says that "if 
 the speculators on the Beautiful had taken painting and music more into consid- 
 eration, they would have avoided many errors, for many theories advanced by able 
 writers are utterly inapplicable to music. Indeed, many philosophers regarded 
 the Divine art as mere play, totally devoid of a science. Every human being
 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OP THE BEAUTIFUL. 119 
 
 has an idea of the Beautiful," says he, "and an object which reaches this idea, 
 which moves within us the sense of admiration, that is beautiful. ' ' He acknowl- 
 edges, however, that this does by no means define the meaning of the Beautiful. 
 He declares that it is only perceptible through feeling and not through thought, 
 and that it exists only for its own sake and for no other purpose. " The utilita- 
 rian principle," he asserts, "has nothing to do with it." 
 
 Schopenhauer is partially Platonic in his theories, but his original propositions 
 are of such vast importance that I shall give a few of his leading ideas. He 
 starts out by saying that "An object affords us pleasure only in so far as it relates 
 to our wills and purpose. But," continues he, "the Beautiful affords us 
 pleasure without affecting our will or purpose. The operations of the will dis- 
 appear in the enjoyment of an art work. The will is the cause of our misery in 
 life. When looking at an art work we forget the will ; the. will is silenced for 
 a time, and we are therefore in a state of pure will-less, painless, timeless con- 
 templation. The will is the source of our desires and emotions ; itlis the source of 
 our wants and suffering. But no gratification here can completely satisfy us, 
 and thus we are on the wheel of Ixion ; we pour water into the sieve of the 
 Danites, we are like suffering Tantalus. By looking at an art work or listening 
 to a piece of fine music, we are suddenly, and of course only temporarily, removed 
 from this endless stream of wants ; rest and quiet is established, the wheel of 
 Ixion stands still and we are happy happy whether the light of the sun shines 
 upon us in a prison or in a palace. ' ' This, no doubt, is in part at least, what 
 Burke meant when speaking of the relaxation of the fibres. 
 
 A thing is beautiful only when it does not concern us, for, says our author, and 
 here we meet with his pessimism, " Life is never beautiful, while the picture of 
 it, when idealized and represented in the mirror of art, is." Schopenhauer con- 
 siders light the greatest diamond in the cluster of the Beautiful, and it is of 
 decided influence upon the cognition of the Beautiful itself. 
 
 While Schopenhauer regards sunlight as the diadem among the objects of the 
 Beautiful, I will go a step farther and point to Him that made the beautiful 
 sunlight. Nature as the creation of God is greater than art, which is the pro- 
 duct of man's mind and imagination. Nature is superior to art, and as the real 
 thing is always superior to its silent representation, so God's work must be 
 superior to that of man. There are writers who claim that man is the ideal of 
 the Beautiful, who according to Scripture is the Temple of God. It must be 
 acknowledged that all human activity is but a reflection of the power of God, 
 hence the true scholar is not satisfied in his reflections to stop with the art work, 
 but turns from it to the mind that produces it, and finally ascribing all honors to 
 Him that has made all things, including so fearful and mysterious a power as the 
 human intellect. As God created the world, so, in a limited sense, He permits 
 man to create art work, so that by his representation of the Beautiful he may 
 show forth his Divine origin, thereby honoring the Great Creator from whom 
 came all good things and to whom all good things must lead. God is the All- 
 Beautiful, as He is the All-Good, the All- Wise, the All-Just and the All- 
 Merciful. All beauty is concentrated in Him, and both art and nature are made 
 beautiful so that we may see God in His beauty. The artist, therefore, who pro- 
 duces a fine work, draws his inspirations, whether knowingly or not, from the
 
 120 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 Eternal source of the Beautiful, he brings a part of the Eternal Beauty down to 
 man, which like a magnet draws us up again to the source from whence it came. 
 We cannot come in contact with anything of a Divine nature without being made 
 better thereby. Art has a Divine nature and to teach its beauty from this stand- 
 point I consider one of the noblest occupations man or woman can be engaged 
 in. Heart culture coupled with a love for the Beautiful is a blessing to any peo- 
 ple, for the Beautiful and the Good always walk hand in hand ; religion and pure 
 art are akin ; they came from the same source and must lead to the same end. 
 
 To be aesthetic means to perceive and to enjoy the beautiful in art and nature. 
 "As logic applies to thought, aiming ultimately at truth," says a writer, "as 
 Ethics sets forth the laws of morality, referring to action, so ^Esthetics apper- 
 tains to the Beautiful, which appeals primarily to sentiment. ' ' 
 
 Nature is a wonderful texture, interwoven as it is by innumerable objects of 
 beauty. Who can name them all ? To study and to love the beauties in nature 
 tends to produce in us reverence ; they soften us down and make us more attrac- 
 tive. Virtue is virtue, but it may be lovely and again it may be very homely. 
 Knowledge is knowledge, but it may sparkle as a thing of beauty, or it may lie 
 dull and inert like an uncut diamond. Without aesthetic culture the best man 
 lacks something. He may be learned, he may be honest and temperate, but 
 he is not what he might be, had he developed within him a love for the 
 Beautiful. 
 
 And now that I have come to the end of my discourse, I would remind you of 
 the fact that the Holy Book points us to the beauty of Holiness ; it speaks often 
 of the beauty of God's Holiness; it portrays to us the beauty of the character, 
 and it says that this world shah 1 be made beautiful as it shall be made good. 
 Have faith then in the final victory of the Beautiful, as you have faith in the 
 final victory of the good. If God loves goodness, he also loves beauty. If He 
 is mighty, He is also lovely. The millenium will not come until this earth shall 
 have been made beautiful, until the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose, 
 "and it shall blossom abundantly and rejoice with joy and singing."
 
 A PLEA FOR MUSIC. 
 
 Music ! What a theme ! As the guardian angel is said to follow us through 
 life, so music seems to be ever with us on our journey from the cradle to the 
 grave ! The little infant is lulled to sleep by its mother's song, and scarcely is 
 its tongue loosened, when it chimes in, trying to sing in unison with the voice 
 it loves so well. After entering the school-room and the Sabbath school, the little 
 one takes renewed delight in vocal exercises. Notice how, forgetful of self, 
 children will follow a hand-organ through the streets, while the sounds of a mili- 
 tary band arouse wild enthusiasm. The songs of childhood, the songs which our 
 mothers sang, who can ever be forgetful of their charms? When love's gentle 
 impulses for the first time take possession of the heart, the maiden gives expres- 
 sion to them in song, while the youthful lover delights in a serenade. Oh, how 
 great is the spell, when love's young dream is telling its story through the medium 
 of melody. We scarcely know, then, which is the mightier music or love ! In 
 the sanctuary we hear the peals of the organ, the strains of the choir, and tha 
 mighty song of the congregation. When listening with a believing mind and a 
 feeling heart, our souls are wafted upward on the wings of song, until in the 
 imagination we are in the blessed realm above. Watch the soldier when he hears 
 the bugle call. Notice how the sound enters his innermost nature ! Ask him 
 what it is that stirs him, and he will tell you that those strains speak alternately 
 of security and danger, of quiet camp-life and of terrible strife. Sing the old 
 war songs before our veterans, and notice the effect. The one becomes excited 
 and chimes in, while the other settles down into quiet reflection, the tears stream- 
 ing down his cheeks. On how many weary marches have these songs been a 
 means of cheer ? How often have they inspired the fighting soldier, when almost 
 ready to give up in the face of overpowering forces ? How sad, when a dirge is 
 played over the grave of a departed comrade, and how full of meaning was that 
 short bugle call which was sounded after Gen. Grant's remains had been com- 
 mitted to their last resting place. The brief signal said "Lights out," and no 
 doubt it conveyed a more forcible meaning to the soldier's heart than words could 
 have conveyed. I have witnessed a revolution in Europe, and from personal obser- 
 vation can testify to the power of music in swaying an excited crowd of people. 
 It was song that imparted to the timorous populace the courage to resist the strong 
 arm of the militia. Even when the light of reason has gone out, music follows 
 man into this darkest period of his existence. Music is one of the chief joys of 
 those unfortunates who are confined within the walls of insane asylums, and it is 
 a fact but little known, and far too little appreciated by our medical profession, 
 that many a shattered mind has been restored to reason through the soothing 
 influence of our art. Who can imagine a Fourth of July celebration without 
 
 121
 
 122 MUSIC AND CULTUttE. 
 
 music ? When far away from Lome and the loved ones, what language is so 
 powerful to keep alive affections and pleasant remembrances of our birthplace, 
 as that of music? The strongest heart, that has endured many trials and braved 
 many dangers, the heart that has learned to govern its emotions, yields to the 
 few notes that make up the little tune "Home, sweet Home ; " and this simple 
 strain has been the means of bringing many a wayward wanderer home again. 
 When a young couple is about to take upon themselves the solemn marriage vow, 
 the brilliant wedding march is almost certain to be a part of the ceremonies, and 
 when they have advanced in life until their hair is frosty and their steps are 
 tottering, they still listen with indescribable emotions to the songs of old. Though 
 they stand on the brink of the grave, these songs carry them back to childhood's 
 years, and with a fond smile they view once more the scenes of their youth. 
 
 Ah, the old tunes, the dear old songs, how easily they lead us along the whole 
 of life's path ; they cause us to stop at the places where we plucked the fragrant 
 flowers, where we whiled away our leisure hours, enjoying the sweets of tender, 
 youthful love. The eye may refuse at such a moment to shed a tear, but the 
 heart throbs and beats wildly. Even when our voices have lost their former full- 
 ness, when we lie stretched feebly on the last couch of sickness, when night is 
 about to break in upon our earthly career, when kind friends stand by our side, 
 waiting with sorrow for our departure, when we say farewell to the things of this 
 life and wait patiently for our removal, music is still with us, and in faith we 
 sing a hymn of praise, only to take up the unfinished strain in the great beyond, 
 where saints stand around the throne, praising Him who has bid us exchange 
 mortality for immortality, and who has called us to dwell in that great mysterious 
 realm, from which music comes as a divine inspiration. 
 
 Doubtless the fact that the love for music as well as its cultivation among the 
 people is so general, leads many to view it from their own standpoint, which is 
 generally one of limited knowledge, for, say they, is it not natural to sing, is it 
 not easy to catch a tune ? Many believe this to be most of what there is of 
 music. It is, however, a fact worthy of notice, that while learned philosophers 
 and scientists have successfully grappled with many great topics, they have failed, 
 as yet, to discover the true inward nature of music. Earth is not its nativity, 
 hence it is not likely that we shall ever fully penetrate its mysteries. Yet it is 
 so simple to our minds and hearts, so easily understood and so readily felt, that 
 to speak in its favor is like holding a candle out of doors at night, in order that 
 we might see the moon or behold the stars in all their beauty. 
 
 In the estimation of many persons, and even of learned men, our beloved art 
 is merely a pleasurable sensation and nothing more. This is the lowest influence 
 of music, but let us bear in mind that even in the production of pleasurable sen- 
 sations it is a great power. It may not have occurred to these persons that these 
 influences are always pure and refining, provided we use the art aright. Music 
 cannot be impure, and if it becomes at all degrading in its influence, as no doubt 
 it sometimes does, it is not so by its own nature, but through its connection with 
 improper acts and words. Music has a higher mission than merely to please the 
 ear. It is the art which appeals most powerfully to the heart, and through this 
 affects our characters. The idea that music has no higher influences than simply 
 to produce, for the tune being, pleasant sensations, has done much harm to the
 
 A PLEA FOR MUSIC. 123 
 
 progress of the art, in schools as well as among the people, for it has caused 
 many thinking men to regard music with a good portion of suspicion. It has 
 always been a great disadvantage to our beloved art, that among those who feel 
 its powers most, there were but few well qualified to set forth its benign influence 
 and inward operations. Being preeminently emotional in their natures, they 
 failed to view, and hence to teach, the art from an intellectual as well as from an 
 emotional standpoint. On the other hand, philosophers, who are preeminently 
 brain-men, could not enter into the emotional powers of the art, and these are, 
 after all, its true key. Relying upon mere speculations of the reasoning faculties, 
 the real powers of the art remained a mystery. 'Tis easy to yield to emotions, 
 but it is difficult to analyze them ; it is difficult to reduce them to thought, for 
 just as soon as the mind steps into the arena, the emotional fire wanes. The fact 
 that music deals with our emotional natures first, leads men of brain to snub the 
 art ; they look down upon it as a mere pleasant pastime. Yes, they go so far as 
 to charge that music tends to weaken character, while directly the opposite is the 
 case, as I hope to show. I am aware of the fact that in claiming refining powers 
 for music, I have many weak spots to meet and to explain, but this can be done. 
 Says a writer, refinement of mind may be defined as an act or process of putting 
 the faculties into the condition in which they can do the best work, appreciate 
 the nicest distinctions, value properly the highest ideals, and grasp the loftiest 
 conceptions. The term refinement, says the same writer, is generally applied to 
 work done upon valuable material. We do not refine iron, but only gold and 
 silver ; we endeavor to instruct the ignorant and the degraded, but we speak of 
 refinement only in connection with those who are educated. There are learned 
 men and women who lack the very first traces of refinement, while there are 
 musicians who lack a good education and a correct moral training. But I shall 
 speak on this point in another place. 
 
 The mere emotional influences of the art alone will never refine. If we aim 
 to impart culture, we must do it through subjects that are worthy of the human 
 mind as well as the heart. Music is such a subject, if it is properly presented 
 and rightly taught. Whatever we search for in a subject, that we are apt to find. 
 He who seeks in music mere pleasurable sensations, will find what he seeks, and 
 he who searches in it for discipline both for the mind and heart, will no doubt 
 find that also. He who seeks but shallow reading, can find it in the domain of 
 literature ; he who delights in crude pictures will invest no money in works of the 
 masters. So he who loves the shallow in music, he who uses it merely as a 
 pastime or as a means of show, may find the kind of music that responds to his 
 tastes. For the student, however, who strives higher in art, there is much in 
 the great storehouse of musical literature that is worthy of his closest study. If 
 our tastes point in the direction of music, let us see to it that its study becomes 
 a means of refinement, and with this purpose in view, let us pursue our work 
 with our best emotions and our clearest thought 
 
 We must aim to be intelligent students ; we must strive to see more in music 
 than mere pleasurable sensations ; we should study it as an art, hence we must 
 become artists ; that is, we must be imbued with the highest love for and the best 
 understanding of what we study. To make it a refining, elevating medium, we 
 must not merely be players and singers, but also art students. Strive, then, to
 
 124 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 become thinking as well as feeling musicians. Believe what has been said by 
 those who know most about our art, that its refining, its humanizing influences 
 deserve our closest attention. 
 
 A taste for brutal noise, for coarse sounds, goes hand in hand with a taste for 
 brutal conduct. A taste for shallow music indicates a shallow mind, as far as 
 musical culture is concerned. Cultivate the inborn love for the beautiful in any 
 form thoroughly, and it is sure to lead to a love of the beautiful in all things ; 
 and again, this love produces a dislike for ugliness, in morals as well as in our sur- 
 roundings. Let the influence of your studies be a chastening and softening of 
 the spirit. Good music never fails to enter our inner natures, and if at all rightly 
 used, it cannot fail to exercise an influence for good. This influence I claim is 
 eternal. The little snowflake, which, in ah 1 its purity and beauty, falls into the 
 ocean, is melted instantly, and, as far as our eye is concerned, it has forever 
 vanished. Yet the little drop of sweet water it contained has helped to sweeten 
 and to increase the immense body of water, in which it disappeared. So the 
 honest hearing of a good piece of music cannot be without some lasting influence, 
 be it ever so feeble or ever so completely hidden. Every beautiful idea, be it 
 expressed in marble, in colors, in words or in tone, comes of necessity from the 
 one source of the beautiful above, and is it at all reasonable to suppose that such 
 repeated influences should be merely transitory in their character ? It cannot be 1 
 
 No doubt God had a great and wise purpose when he gave us music, and that 
 it was given to us with a purpose is manifested by the love for music that lies in 
 the hearts of all right-feeling people. Is not the same true of that religious sense 
 which pervades the breasts of ah 1 men, let them be ever so low in the scale of 
 civilization ? 
 
 It is the testimony of learned musicians everywhere, that the art is inspiring, 
 that it arouses our inner natures, that it awakens powerful emotions, and that the 
 higher we soar in its realm, for the time being, at least, the less we care for the 
 empty things of this world. This enthusiasm is not what some characterize it, 
 a selfish indulgence, but it is a pure gratification. This enthusiasm and inspira- 
 tion arises from our coming into contact with works of beauty, and through them 
 with some of the best and loftiest minds that ever existed here on earth. This 
 enthusiasm is akin to religious zeal and devotion, and this zeal forever forces us 
 onward and upward, in search of greater beauty and perfection. As religious 
 devotion produces the spirit of missions, so the lover of art knows no greater 
 pleasure than to unfold its beauty before others, that they too may enjoy its 
 benign influences. When viewing the music teacher's work from this standpoint, 
 does it not deserve to be called a noble work ? 
 
 In common with all musicians who have studied their art and its effects, I 
 ckim for it refining influences. No doubt you will accept this as a truth, yet you 
 cannot fail to say, behold the passions of musicians, the petty rivalry and jealousy 
 that are displayed among them ; are not these also the effects of music ? No, 
 they are not. They are the outcome of defects in character, they are the result 
 of a defective education. Having given themselves too exclusively to music, 
 having enjoyed and studied the art only from its emotional side, they neglected 
 the cultivation of the mind and development of character, hence those defects 
 among little as well as great musicians, which are so offensive in our sight.
 
 A PLEA FOR MUSIC. 125 
 
 Moreover, musicians of prominence are too often flattered, and that to such 
 an extent, that what little strength of character they possess is almost entirely 
 destroyed. Let us also bear in mind that great musicians are as shining lights, 
 and in our foolish adoration, we often fail to condemn them for improper acts. 
 There is no reason why genius should be allowed to overstep the boundaries of 
 good breeding, and if public condemnation were to follow swiftly, even the most 
 eccentric of musicians would be more careful about his public behavior. The 
 more prominent men and women are, the more we notice their public lives. Bad 
 behavior in common mortals hardly produces more than a local excitement ; the 
 misstep and degradation of a prominent musician becomes the gossip of a nation. 
 
 A father and his daughter once visited me, the object of their call being a con- 
 sultation with regard to the latter 's course of education. There was a radical 
 difference of opinion between the two, and I was evidently chosen as arbiter because 
 the daughter, being fond of music, expected me to decide in her favor. She 
 desired to devote herself exclusively to music, though her common school education 
 was deficient My advice was for the father to give his daughter a thorough 
 literary education, allowing her at the same time to study music. Turning to the 
 young lady I said, ' ' If one of the two must be delayed or neglected, let me beg you 
 to delay or neglect music." The arts are educational means, but, like all other 
 branches of study, they are merely so many spokes of the great educational wheel. 
 A musical education alone must produce one-sided results, and so a complete 
 education which has included art studies, is more perfect than one that lacks 
 such culture. 
 
 Man is a social being. Says a writer : " Unselfish society is the harmony of 
 humanity," and so it may also be said, that kind words and pleasant interchange of 
 courtesies are the music of social life, which is designed to enhance human love. 
 Music should be made a part of our home life, of our school life, and without 
 fail it will in the course of time also become a living part of our national existence. 
 Music is a social art ; it fills many hearts with the same emotions, it sets many 
 minds to work, and like no other art, oratory perhaps excepted, it arouses large 
 bodies of men to almost superhuman action. We scarcely ever meet for any great 
 object but that music is drawn in and is made to serve a purpose. Is it simply 
 to pass time ? No, it is introduced in order to lend additional charms to the pro- 
 ceedings and exercises, in order to arouse pure sentiment, to strengthen enthusiasm 
 for a good cause, to unite those who meet in the assembly ; and thus the art is 
 often ignorantly used for good purposes, even by men who have but a low opinion 
 of it. As a people we need every good agent to help along the cause of culture 
 and refinement. Wherever art plants its foot, the tendency is to tone down and 
 to moderate our well-known national self-assertion, our aggressiveness, our youth- 
 ful boisterous roughness, which many mistake for independence of character. 
 Americans delight in boasting of their liberties, but they are often slaves to 
 business and speculation. This is our national failing. We need more restful- 
 ness, more reserve, and art studies are among the best means to bring about such 
 a result, for meditation about art and the looking at fine art works causes us to 
 lose sight of the world without Bough people take no delight in art, yet it is 
 created for them, just as religion exists for the benefit of the unconverted. Many 
 persons lack all culture and refinement, they even lack good breeding and polite
 
 126 MUSIC AN1> CULTUKK 
 
 manners. They prefer noise, loud talking and rough sports to the gentler in- 
 fluences of art and literature. You can scarcely arouse them to enthusiasm, 
 except it be in the gratification of their lower natures. Young people quickly 
 show by their outward appearance, by the choice of their amusements and social 
 preferences, what their true inwardness is. Alas ! people say, boys must be boys, 
 and under this plea much rudeness and offensive conduct is tolerated. We need 
 social agents designed to lift us out of our daily routine life, to turn boys from 
 the ways of boisterous roughness ; we need agents to awaken sentiment, agents 
 that shah 1 prove sweet harmonizers between the outer and inner man. Music is 
 such an agent, and while as a people we love it and take readily to it, we fail to 
 cultivate it sufficiently as an art, and for this reason we fail as yet to derive the 
 fullest benefit from it. Our art efforts, like our church enterprises, must be indi- 
 vidual efforts, for our government, unlike those of European countries, can do 
 nothing directly for the advancement of art culture. The unsupervised and ill- 
 directed effort of individuals unfitted to teach music, retards its growth. But 
 its slow development is no argument against its ennobling mission, nor against its 
 final success. Look at the immense machinery that is set to work to christianize 
 and to educate mankind, and notice its slow progress. Music is the youngest art ; 
 it is only now in its highest state of development ; let us give it as much time as 
 we have accorded to religion, to education, before we indict it as being without 
 lasting and ennobling influences. Only of late years is our musical profession 
 rising to a higher level, and the most surprising results already have been attained. 
 That music is making rapid strides in this direction, the most short-sighted should 
 be willing to acknowledge. Notice the increase of cheap popular concerts in our 
 cities ; notice the numerous bands which play in public parks ; observe how 
 deeply music is striking root in our public school system, and then say whether 
 or not we are on a fair way toward becoming a musical people. And right here 
 let me repeat what I said in the Musical World recently : " It is undeniably true 
 that our public school education falls short in the development of the child's 
 emotional and imaginative faculties. Music is one of the best means at our com- 
 mand to awaken sentiment, yet there are teachers who make great pretensions as 
 educators, who speak boastingly of training the whole child, but who would not 
 lift a finger in behalf of music as a branch of public school education. How 
 short-sighted and inconsistent ! " 
 
 But look still closer at our national musical progress. Concert programmes are 
 multiplying and improving, and likewise the standard of public performances is 
 rising. More copies of standard musical works are sold, musical literature is im- 
 proving, the taste is better and purer than at any previous time, music schools 
 are increasing and charlatans are driven into the backwoods. If you as future 
 teachers would be useful and stand in the ranks of the profession, you must study 
 the masters. "With light music you will hardly get along any more, for where 
 you least expect it, you will be asked to use these great works. Prepare your- 
 selves, therefore, that you may be up to the standard of the profession. 
 
 It has been said that Music is a great art ; it binds together rational natures ; 
 hence it has a high moral influence in the family, and for this reason all thinking 
 people love to foster it at home. A musical home is a happy home. Ill-natured, 
 cross-grained people rarely love music ; why they would hardly whistle a tune.
 
 A PLEA FOB MUSIC. 127 
 
 But then music, if it once permeates the heart's feelings, drives out ugliness; 
 ill-nature and music cannot exist together, for the heart that comes under the 
 spell of good music is thereby made ready for good deeds. Parents who fail to 
 cultivate the musical gifts of their children deprive them, and through them the 
 coming generations, of that moral and intellectual legacy which is due them. 
 And just as music is a power in the family, so it is in the world at large. The 
 Reformation came a little later than printing, but it came with the first artistic 
 development of music. Says a writer : " Had the Reformation occurred among 
 a people less musical than the Germans, it is a doubtful problem whether it would 
 have succeeded as well as it did. ' ' Music is a means to refine and to elevate social 
 solitude. But if music is a social art, if it inspires numbers, it is also a true 
 friend. In fact, it is best felt when alone, just as the most fervent prayers are 
 offered in private. It is good for us to seek solitude, it is beneficial to meditate. 
 Go in the evening to the doors of musicians' rooms and listen, and there you 
 will hear their hearts' best emotions poured out upon their instruments. I can 
 conceive of no greater pleasure than to express my emotions upon my instrument, 
 unheard by man. When in the twilight hours there comes a feeling of yearning, 
 a feeling of loneliness, I find no words to express my emotions ; but through the 
 medium of music I can tell all I feel, and in this expression of my inmost emo- 
 tions, I find relief. We are so constituted that we must give vent to our feelings, 
 and because there are sentiments the words cannot convey, music was appointed 
 to serve man. When I am thus alone with my art, the masters come and go ; 
 they visit me in spirit, and the air is as full of music as it would be full of fra- 
 grance, had the room been filled with flowers. 
 
 And then at such, an hour the soul often rises on the pinions of song to the very 
 footstool of grace, for music being a divine language, the language of the heart, 
 is well understood by our heavenly Father. Yet there are those who say that 
 music is only a plaything, a recreation, a very agreeable pastime. Music, say 
 some, is good enough for girls, but is illy suited to boys. In Europe, boys as 
 well as girls study music ; hence, everywhere in that country will you find states- 
 men, generals, priests and bishops, professors as well as students, bankers as well 
 as merchants, practice the art. Some of these amateurs, such as Thibault, 
 Ambros, Hauslick, and others, became famous in the world of music. The much 
 lamented Emperor Frederic was a good pianist, while the celebrated Moltke, the 
 general whose wars are beyond comparison on account of their brilliancy, played 
 the piano. Yet his musical knowledge did not detract anything from him in the 
 fields of his profession ; he was as brave a fighter as ever lived. Would that 
 American boys could be more thoroughly imbued with an art spirit ; would 
 they could be divested of that destructiveness and loudness that is displayed by 
 some. Their better natures would be called forth through the aid of music ; 
 the hidden springs of their affections would be unearthed, so that they could 
 flow more freely. Oh, let us open the windows of our souls, so that the light of 
 love may shine in freely, for love should be our soul's normal condition. How 
 often, when hearing or when playing good music, do I say, God be praised for 
 such precious gifts, and my heart then, methinks, is large enough to love a 
 universe. 
 
 'Tis pleasant to express one's sentiments ; all good people delight in that which
 
 128 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 appeals to their better natures ; the heart seems ready for it, as a niche is ready 
 for the statue, or the vase is ready for the flowers. No one is contented with the 
 actual ; it is the nature of all intelligent beings to aim at the beyond, the super- 
 natural, and music is one of the most pleasant roads that leads that way. Our 
 consciences tell us what is right, says a philosopher, but they never would lead 
 us in the path of the beautiful. To strive after the beautiful is, in a measure, 
 equal to striving for the good, for both come from and lead to the same source. 
 The beautiful surely leads to some sort of progress ; it cannot be otherwise. It 
 comes from heaven and it brings heaven down to us ; not a heaven too great for 
 our comprehension, but a heaven just fitted for our human needs, for our hearts 
 and homes. 
 
 Music is a language. Without language we would not be the human beings we 
 are. Language gives expression to thoughts, and because men are differently 
 constituted, we have a great diversity of dialects. Language is of a people ; it 
 expresses a people's thought, and he who learns it, enters into another nation's 
 spirit ; he who masters a language, so to speak, multiplies himself. 
 
 The emotional world, also, needs a language. All human hearts are akin in 
 their feelings, all humanity feels alike. Music is preeminently the language of 
 the emotions, it is the language of the heart. When comparing the language of 
 words to that of music, Thomas Moore says : 
 
 "Music, oh, how faint, how weak ; 
 
 Language fades before thy spell ; 
 Why should Feeling ever speak 
 When thou canst breathe her soul so well?" 
 
 If this language of the heart had not been needed, God would not have given 
 it to us, neither would he have given us the power of understanding it. This lan- 
 guage of the heart, this music, brings all humanity into one household ; it is the 
 language of the brotherhood of man, while literature brings us only together in 
 the republic of letters. Which is the greater, the head or the heart ? Let me 
 answer by saying that God asks for our hearts, not for our brains. Are these not 
 reasons why we should study this universal language ? Through its medium, we 
 can speak to and reach the hearts of those whose words we cannot understand. 
 The characters of this language are substantially the same the world over. In 
 studying our beloved art, we learn- to speak a world's language, and that the only 
 world's language we know of. Its spirit unites, permeates and controls humanity. 
 Music expresses more than the word, in fact, all musical writers agree that where 
 the word fails, the full meaning of Music only begins. Says Wagner : " The tone 
 language is the beginning and the end of the word language, just as sentiment is 
 the beginning and the end of the intellect, just as the Myth is the beginning and 
 the end of history, and the Lyre the beginning and end of poetry." Schumann 
 says : " That would; indeed be a small art that only gives us sounds and no lan- 
 guage, no expressions for the conditions of the soul." Music tells us far more 
 than the heart can take in, hence the art is inexhaustible ; the deeper we study 
 the more music reveals to us. 
 
 Pure art music is but little understood, even by many of our best educated 
 men. The masses lack as yet the depth of sentiment, as well as the mental
 
 A PLEA FOR MUSIC. 129 
 
 capacity, to understand the full meaning of the works of the masters. To 
 appreciate the heart language of a Beethoven, presupposes a good degree of 
 culture. The mental strain required to understand it is too great for the 
 uncultivated, hence they cannot understand it as well as he who has spoken this 
 language for many years ; yet the charge is that music is a mere plaything, a 
 pastime. Despite the depth of good music, it is never listened to, by the uniniti- 
 ated even, without some profound expressions. Good music properly played never 
 fails to touch us. Yet there are many who, after listening to the works of the 
 masters, are much in the same position as was the Western editor who, after 
 listening to a lecture by Emerson, turned to his neighbor and said : " What does 
 he mean ? " A grand musical composition expresses the composer's inner life far 
 better than would the best biography. To draw near to the feeling hearts and 
 the powerful minds of our great masters is indeed a privilege to be highly valued. 
 Through their works we are made partakers of their greatest joys and deepest 
 sorrows, and on the pinions of their inspirations we rise to heights we never 
 reached before. If the unmusical could but read in words what these master 
 minds have said in tones, how much they would enjoy such literature, and to 
 what a high place they would assign these works. 
 
 Man uses human language to express vileness and deceit; men swear and 
 blaspheme in the language of words, but no one can swear, no one can blaspheme 
 in music ; it cannot revile. It is the language of heaven, for it seems to be the 
 only one admitted there. All art is pure, all art is sacred, and the works of our 
 masters, as far as they are not coupled with objectionable words or actions, are all 
 sacred music ; they are the profoundest utterances of human hearts. Who would 
 dare to play with such an art ? who would dare to play with the works of such 
 masters ? who would use such an art for selfish purposes, for the low purpose of 
 flattering one's own vanity ? Such an art must be carefully and sincerely studied : 
 alas, rather than do this, young people prefer musical small talk, and rather than 
 to train the masses to rise to a comprehension of the pure and good in art, many 
 teachers are satisfied to teach this small talk, and to train pupils to repeat it, as 
 birds are trained to sing. Much of such small talk is often heard in our homes, 
 in schools, and in concerts, yet the question may well be asked, What must be the 
 effect of great and pure works, if even this musical small talk is so pleasing to the 
 ear and the heart ? 
 
 But say some, music is emotional and not intellectual, hence it deserves no 
 place by the side of other studies in the curriculum. Stupid talk 1 As a study, 
 music is highly intellectual. He who would learn it, must read new signs, more 
 varied in their character than arc those in the Greek language or in chemistry. 
 The study of music implies at least some mathematics, and he who wishes to 
 enter the mysteries of acoustics must have mastered the science of numbers. The 
 study of music implies a knowledge of rhythms more varied than are those in 
 Greek, Latin, or English poetry. It implies correct time and correct phrasing. 
 The student must grasp the melody as well as the harmony, he must read many 
 notes at once, and not only that, he must produce them instantaneously upon 
 his instrument. Not only must he touch many keys at once; he must strike 
 them with the proper degree of strength, rapidity and feeling, and while his eye 
 reads, while his hands play, his feet must properly manage the pedals. To drink 
 9
 
 130 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 in, and to reproduce quickly the spirit of a composition is in itself difficult, yet 
 this is done in connection with such a multiplicity of mental actions, that it is 
 surprising how the human mind can perform them all at once. Music undoubtedly 
 develops the mind in many directions, and yet it is said that the art is not intellectual. 
 But let us go still further and enter the composer's laboratory. The poet or 
 prose writer has his manuscript before him, and he may alter and change it until 
 it expresses his ideas. The painter constantly watches the effect of his colors on 
 canvas as he puts them on, but the composer must write a complicated score of 
 instruments and voices, without hearing a sound. All these artists quietly exhibit 
 their work after it is finished, but the player or singer steps before the public and 
 there executes his art work. Surely a musical performance is a marvel in itself. 
 How many keys does a Sherwood or a Mrs. King strike during an evening, and yet 
 each must be struck at the proper time and in the proper manner. Notice how 
 these artists perform whole programmes from memory, and this they do with the 
 utmost accuracy and dexterity. Some great singers know as many as forty operas 
 by heart, each of which requires hours for a hearing. Where are the orators that 
 remember forty lectures? And yet there are some who say music is not intellectual. 
 Look at the study of harmony, counterpoint and fugue, examine the mysteries of 
 orchestration in all its wonderful tone colorings, look at the study of musical his- 
 tory and biography, take a glance at musical philosophy and aesthetics, and then 
 answer the question whether or not the study of music requires thought. Lan- 
 guages and sciences may be mastered in far shorter tune than it requires to fully 
 master music in all its branches. Educational history tells us that for centuries 
 our art has held its place in the universities of England. It is now taught in 
 all German universities, and this, no doubt, is also a testimony in favor of the 
 intellectuality of music. Even the ancient Grecians had a musical system that 
 requires the acutest mind to understand, and this is also true of many Persian 
 and Arabian musical works. But let us take another interpretation of the term 
 intellectual ; let us regard it as meaning a natural constant preference for higher 
 thoughts over lower, and according to this definition, music will have to be 
 regarded as an intellectual study. 
 
 The performance of a piece of music may not arouse or call into activity the 
 faculty of reason, but then, let me ask, does poetry or does a prayer do so ? Are 
 we reasoning when looking at a pretty picture or a fine statue ? Of course we 
 begin to reason as soon as we begin to criticise and analyze a work of art, and this 
 holds true, also, with reference to music. Having viewed the artist's work so far, 
 let u? now measure, if we can, the flight of his imagination when composing or per- 
 forming an art work, let us listen to the wild beatings of his heart, and the artistic 
 work becomes still more intellectual. Everything that calls into activity our spirit- 
 ual natures is intellectual ; and who dares to deny that music does this to a 
 high' degree ? Why such an art should be regarded as a mere plaything, why it 
 should be treated as stepmotherly, as it is treated in many schools and by many 
 learned men, I cannot comprehend. 
 
 The normal sentiment of the human heart is, or ought to be, love. Music is 
 love in its purest essence. Berlioz said somewhere, "Which one of the two 
 powers may lift man to the highest plane, love or music ? That is a problem. 
 But it seems one might say, love cannot give us an idea of music, while music
 
 A PLEA FOE MUSIC. 131 
 
 expresses love." And then he bursts out by saying, "But why separate the one 
 from the other? Are they not the two wings of the soul? " Weber said, What 
 love is to man, that music is to the arts, for it is love itself. It is the most aes- 
 thetic language of the passions. Love also is the essence of religion, hence they 
 are closely allied. Every good piece of music therefore is religious, for it ex- 
 presses love, and to take into our hearts this love, to express it again in tones, 
 that is and always must be one of the most edifying acts we can engage in. Oh ! 
 that we might see the art in ah 1 its grandeur, purity and loveliness! Luther 
 fairly bubbled over with powerful sayings when speaking of it, and in one of his 
 table talks, he places the art next to theology. If the art you study is a social, 
 emotional, intellectual and religious agent, if it is a blessing, let us use it, study 
 and enjoy it as a blessing. Be impressed with the fact that your studies are 
 worthy of your most serious attention. View your art always from its sacred 
 side, aim to rise as high as you can, and you will be happy in your work nay, 
 more, you will be fitted to use your attainments as a blessing to others as well as 
 yourselves.
 
 THE VALUE OF A MUSICAL EDUCATION. 
 
 It is not to be expected that all should study music as a science or as an art. 
 but it is expected that people of culture should know something about it; Place 
 yourselves under the benign influences of the divine art, and you will not regret it. 
 Learn to love good music ; cultivate your taste as much as possible. 
 
 When I first 'entered this pleasant field of usefulness, I perceived the neces- 
 sity of meeting music pupils collectively at least once in a week. Would that 
 we could meet oftener, for there is much to be said, and there is always 
 inspiration in larger gatherings. The student who plods along on the road of 
 learning without associates, the student who never meets those that are engaged 
 with hun in the same work, is apt to become self-sufficient and conceited, or per- 
 chance he become independent. At any rate, he fails to develop a spirit of com- 
 petition and a wholesome emulation. Students should meet students at proper 
 places and at proper times ; they should hear and see what others do. There is 
 always a great deal of good coming from class-work, for in the class-room the 
 student may realize his own standing, his degree of proficiency and growth, and 
 in the class-room the sluggard is often stirred up to greater activity. Private 
 instruction is absolutely necessary for those who aim to master an art, but class 
 instruction should not be neglected on this account. That there is more in music 
 than mere playing and singing, that there is something objective, something abso- 
 lute, spiritual, elevating, eternal, yes, that there is something divine in our art, I 
 desire you to realize ; that music, as an art, does not depend upon the frail criti- 
 cism of the uninitiated. It is necessary that you should be made to believe, at the 
 very outset of your career as students, that there is something higher in music 
 than that which the masses see or hear in it ; those who know nothing about aes- 
 thetic or artistic enjoyments ; those who assert that there is no more in art than 
 they themselves realize and recognize. It is my duty to lift you up ; to give you 
 higher ideas of art and artists. It is my duty to lead you onward and upward on 
 that golden path of beauty, as it is revealed in art, feeling certain that you will 
 also learn to love and to adore the source from whence cometh all this beauty. In 
 order to accomplish this, I must give you weekly instructions, for these lessons 
 will never come to you through mere playing or hearing music. A good technique 
 is not sufficient ; nay, there must be understanding as well as execution. So, in 
 the reverse order, musical instruction, without hearing good music, avails but 
 little. Hearing, without understanding, is as the top of the tree without life- 
 sustaining roots, and so understanding without hearing good music, is all root and 
 trunk, without flowers, leaves and fruits. You see, therefore, the necessity of 
 both lectures and recitals ; they supplement each other, for the lecture prepares 
 the mind to hear aright. In order that you may become well-rounded and intel- 
 ligent teachers and musicians, you must be educated as thinking and feeling men 
 
 132
 
 THE VALUE OF A MUSICAL EDUCATION. 133 
 
 and women. The lecture sets you to thinking, while the recital arouses and culti- 
 vates your feelings as well as your art-taste. In order to enjoy an art, you must 
 understand it ; the more you think about it, the deeper will become your emotions, 
 and the more you thus study your art from its twofold sides, the more effectively 
 thought and sentiment will harmonize and develop within you. Sentiment is 
 the top-soil in which grows our art, but let us see to it that our emotions are 
 pure, so that the thoughts arising from them may also be pure. These plants 
 must be carefully nurtured, for they never develop well without fostering care. 
 You perceive from this that both lectures and recitals are needful for your musical 
 growth. They help to surround you with a musical atmosphere, which is sure to 
 be conducive to a healthy musical growth. I therefore commend such exercises 
 to you, and it is to be hoped that no music student will absent himself from them 
 without good cause. 
 
 Let me ask you to remember that our life's journey is divided into smaller por- 
 tions by certain events. These events appear as huge milestones, and are rarely 
 ever lost sight of. Your entrance into an institution of learning is one of these 
 milestones, for no matter how old you may become, you will always look back upon 
 your stay there as one of the most important events of your lives. It is in 
 accordance with our natures, that, when entering upon certain new phases in life, 
 our minds and hearts are more receptive than usual, and to be permitted to make 
 impressions upon hearts and minds in this condition is one of the greatest privi- 
 leges a teacher can enjoy. Some of you are for the first time entering college 
 life ; others are merely continuing the work begun in former years. It may be a 
 sad fact to realize, but it is nevertheless true, that you have left the parental 
 home, never again to dwell for any great length of time under its sheltering roof. 
 You enter college to prepare yourselves for life, and you expect to enter upon its 
 duties as soon as this work of preparation is completed. Be this as it may, all 
 of you are beginning a new year of mental activity. A college is a small world 
 in itself ; within its limits you have every opportunity to exercise your faculties, 
 to develop your minds and to cultivate your hearts ; here you have all necessary 
 means at your command to fit yourselves for your future duties. One part of 
 your life is closed and lies behind you, and you enter college to prepare yourselves 
 for that portion of it which lies before you. Your state here is that of prepara- 
 tion for an unknown future, exactly as our existence here on earth is a state of 
 preparation for eternity. Bear in mind that he who loses the chances and fails 
 to embrace the opportunities offered here on earth, is, so the Bible says, a 
 sufferer throughout eternity. So he who fails to improve his opportunities in 
 college is the sufferer, at least throughout life. Mistakes made there, habits 
 formed there, avenge themselves throughout life. Allow me then to say a few 
 words as to your life and work, hoping that what I offer may not be spoken in 
 vain. 
 
 He who wishes to live right must strive to know this world of ours, with 
 all its hardships and joys, with all its certainties and uncertainties. ReaUze, then, 
 this fact, that we are not all made alike, neither in size, looks, gifts nor characters. 
 We differ widely, and this difference among creatures of the same species is 
 noticeable everywhere in the world ; it is God's intention that so it should be. If 
 we differ widely, it becomes our second duty to study others as well as ourselves.
 
 134 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 In a word, our success in life depends largely upon a correct knowledge of the 
 world in which we act, a knowledge of the men with whom and for whom we act, 
 and especially does it depend upon a knowledge of ourselves, who must forever 
 act, and who are destined to rise and fall by our own actions. 
 
 This created world is the same everywhere ; it is fashioned after God's plan, 
 and he pronounced it good. Although it is the same in goodness, it makes many 
 kinds of impressions, it is viewed in many ways, and all this for the simple reason 
 that we are differently constituted. Most people see the world as through colored 
 glass, only few learn to see it with the naked eye, and as water often partakes of 
 the taste of the soil through which it runs, so the world in its appearance partakes 
 of our own natures. 
 
 You think you deal with the world, and 'so you do, but you deal every time 
 first with yourselves. You cannot get out of, nor can you get away from, your- 
 selves it is you that is living your own life, it is you that is writing your own 
 life's history every day. You cannot escape from this world and its respon- 
 sibilities, do what you will, least of all can you escape from yourselves ; you must 
 forever live and act, and while here on earth, you must once in every twenty-four 
 hours fill a page of your life's history. Every human being has his or her own 
 peculiar experience, hence, a peculiar :'history of his own, different from that of 
 others, and that is owing to the fact already stated, that every individual differs 
 from all others. From the foregoing statement, it follows that the appearance of 
 this world, our views of life, its duties, its pleasures and cares, depend not upon 
 our surroundings, but altogether upon our own conception of them. As the man 
 sees the world, says a philosopher, so it appears to him. If he is stupid or vulgar, 
 the world likewise appears stupid and vulgar, and naturally he delights in the 
 company of the stupid and the vulgar. If he is bright, happy and contented, if 
 he is cultured and refined, this world will be the same to him. Start out then 
 with this idea, that Grod made a good world, and that, if all men were alike gifted 
 and alike good, all would see this world in the same light of beauty and good- 
 ness. Man, however, fell ; man is imperfect, he has necessarily an imperfect view 
 of self and the world, and as men are differently constituted, they must differ 
 even in their imperfect views. The higher we rise in culture, in refinement, the 
 more this life and world must become to us. The lower we sink in degradation, 
 the lower must also be our views of this world, of man, and of life itself. Having 
 thus thrown some light on your relations to life and to the world, let me draw 
 from it this lesson, which I beg of you never to forget, that, inasmuch as our 
 views of life and men depend upon our own inward condition, our happiness lies 
 not without, but within ; that we are made happy, not by what we have, but 
 only by what we are. A great mind sees great things in this world and life, a 
 petty thinker, a small-minded man, finds fault and quarrels with everything. 
 To him, men and things appear small and defective. A bright-thinking and 
 quick-observing mind sees a thousand things which afford it pleasure and also 
 pain, all of which escape the notice of the dull and unobserving. The intellectual 
 and charitable man has a high and noble purpose in life, the selfish and sensual 
 man always lives for low purposes, yet both live and exist in the same world, all 
 chances and opportunities for good are alike open to both. From this it follows 
 that the world is not to blame, but man is. It follows, also, that no matter how
 
 THE VALUE OP A MUSICAL EDUCATION. 135 
 
 our condition may be changed, no matter how rich we may be made, even if we 
 were to live in luxury, or to enjoy all the honors this earth can bestow, we 
 ourselves would still be the same, hence, we would in reality not be happier than 
 we were before. In order, then, to improve ourselves and others, we must lay 
 hold of the inner man ; we must educate both the head and the heart, for the 
 mere bestowal of riches and honors would not be bestowing real happiness. If 
 we were to give men all the honors, all the wealth they desired, it would be 
 found true that the drunkard would still drink, the blasphemer would still 
 blaspheme ; nay, their conditions might possibly be worse, for great material 
 prosperity without correct mental and moral training often fosters all the 
 greater evils. 
 
 As this world appears to us either good or bad, according to our own good- 
 ness or badness, according to our own understanding, it must be plain that the 
 highest gift a man can attain is understanding, or in other words the one thing 
 most needed is education, which, in the full meaning of the word, includes relig- 
 ious and moral training. Education, therefore, is of more value than money and 
 precious stones. An ignorant millionaire cannot be as happy as a poorly paid but 
 well educated preacher or college professor. An ignorant lord or king is far 
 more miserable than is the poorest paid and least recognized country school 
 teacher. Many a rich land owner sees less pleasures in life than does his hard- 
 working tenant. 
 
 Life is like a kaleidoscope ; it changes with every rising and setting sun ; but 
 while life constantly changes in its situations and scenes, man changes but 
 slowly. It has been said that the man of a clear brain and a good heart sees the 
 world as it is ; the man of mediocre mind sees it through the lens of his own 
 desires and passions. The man of clear mind and good education understands 
 events ; he sees their efiects ; he seizes upon them and uses them, and thus he 
 advances his own interests. The ignoramus, the uneducated, is not qualified to do 
 this. The ability to seize circumstances and to use them for one's own good, or 
 the inability to do so is by many called good and bad luck. In reality it is good 
 and bad training, good and bad education ; it is ignorance versus wisdom, quickness 
 of mind versus dulness of mind. Men embrace their chances because they have 
 education sufficient to see them, and they fail to see them because they lack 
 education. Shun the idea of fatalism, it is hurtful. Dismiss the foolish notion 
 that some are born to succeed, while others are doomed to failure. Every man 
 is, in a sense, the maker of his own destiny ; if it were otherwise, we would be 
 mere puppets on the stage of life, pulled here and there by that invisible force 
 called Fate. This idea is repugnant, yet many clutch and cling to it, probably as 
 an excuse for their own stupidity or laziness. Some people act in life as if they 
 were hoodwinked whatever they obtain is caught by chance ; whatever they do 
 seems to be done by chance. While this is a fact much to be deplored, it must 
 be acknowledged that the fault is not with the world, it lies with men. The 
 good things lie about them all the same, but they cannot see them, and that 
 because of a lack of education. He, however, who is educated, has the scale of 
 ignorance cut from his eyes ; he sees things and situations in their true light, and 
 he therefore acts wisely, using this world without abusing it. To obtain an edu- 
 cation is a great privilege, for the proper use of which you will be held responsible.
 
 136 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 Therefore use your opportunities, for you will need, in active life, all the informa- 
 tion you can possibly obtain. 
 
 Impress upon your minds this lesson, that religion, character and learning are 
 three precious gifts worth striving for ; they are permanent gifts ; they do us 
 good ; they lift us up, while money and honors fail to do so. Through education 
 you are enabled to draw pleasures from this world which are denied to the rich 
 ignoramus, for the only true and lasting pleasures come from within ; all outward 
 pleasures are necessarily followed by renewed wants and often, also, by bitter 
 results. 
 
 Some young students seem to think that college life is or ought to be, in part at 
 least, a period of pleasure-seeking. There are peculiar pleasures connected with 
 student-life, and every rational person loves to see students meny and lively, but 
 remember it is a sad mistake in students as well as others to seek pleasure 
 first and all the time, for to him who does so, amusements will be as the Loreley 
 rock. They will surely wreck his life's barge. It has been said that our lives 
 unravel themselves like balls of twine. When watching students in schools, it will 
 be noticed that many sincerely endeavor to weave this twine into some design, 
 into some useful articles ; there are, however, others who simply drop it as it 
 unravels itself, thus wasting their days and opportunities. Many students are 
 unmindful of the fact that, as has been stated, they must fill every day a new page 
 of life's volume. Alas, how much foolishness is noted down day after day, how 
 many bad deeds and idle words are recorded which can never be blotted out. No 
 matter how successful you may be in after life, no matter how useful you may 
 become in after years as men and women, you will find that in your quiet 
 moments of reflection, this book of your life's history will be^thrust before your 
 eyes, and whether you will or not, you must read. Memory and conscience are 
 two great accusers ; they will bring back foolish actions and idle words, and this 
 will necessarily give you much pain. It is wicked to palliate young people's 
 indiscretions by saying that they must sow their wild oats. No one has a right to 
 sow wild oats ; no one has a right to claim that young people must do so. Sow 
 good seeds ; sow them now, that in after years you may enjoy fragrant flowers 
 and luscious fruits. Sow seeds of morality, for they spring up to be heavenly 
 plants in the life to come. Sow seeds of pure thought, for they lead to pure 
 action. Sow the seeds of pure action, so that you may form good habits, and 
 thus you will establish character. Look not too much to the future, for it often 
 deceives ; look more to the present ; look to every day, for every day unravels 
 your life's twine, everyday a new page is turned over for you to write upon. 
 
 Many young people start out in life with the idea that happiness consists more 
 in having than in being. Of course they aim first at riches, for they care more 
 for what they have than for what they are ; true happiness, however, is found 
 only in moral and mental progress. A good conscience, a clear head, and good 
 health, are the true sources of happiness, for the loss of which neither money 
 nor honors can compensate you. You may be poor, and no doubt many of 
 you have to struggle for your education ; you may have to stint and deny your- 
 selves in many ways, but from this it does not follow that you must be unhappy or 
 humiliated ; it does not follow that he who has all the good things imaginable 
 is necessarily happy. We look too much to what we lack, and not enough to
 
 THE VALUE OF A MUSICAL EDUCATION. 137 
 
 what we have. Having nine things and lacking one, many foolish people fret 
 
 over the one and forget to enjoy the nine. Remember to look first to what 
 
 you are, and aim at that alone which is truly worth having, namely, character 
 
 and learning. Money may be taken from you ; at best it entails many cares and 
 
 is apt to prove a chain that ties men to the things below, but character and 
 
 learning remain forever with you ; they are cords that draw you to the world 
 
 above. It has been said that we cannot get away from ourselves ; we are forever 
 
 with ourselves, we remain ourselves throughout eternity we are, therefore, 
 
 " forever our own company," and is it not sensible to improve this company, so 
 
 that it may be worth enjoying ? The bad man has always bad company, the 
 
 ignorant man is always in company with an ignorant man, and that, too, every day 
 
 of his life. What lives such people must lead 1 Happiness produces outward 
 
 cheerfulness, and never lose sight of the fact that cheerfulness is always welcomed. 
 
 It makes you strong and gives you influence among pupils, both old and 
 
 young ; it is welcomed in the sick-room, in the store, in church, on the street, in 
 
 fact, everywhere. Cheerfulness is always useful, no matter what sphere of life 
 
 you may enter. Young students sometimes allow moroseness, jealousy, envy 
 
 and other unwelcome guests to enter their hearts. At first they come as brief 
 
 callers, as momentary guests, but there comes a time when these guests will stay, 
 
 and so there comes a time when they will rule you in your own household, 
 
 driving out every good caller. These guests will prove to be cruel landlords, 
 
 hard taskmasters and tyrannical, and they will become more and more so until 
 
 your dying day. Would you be your own masters, your own landlords and 
 
 kings, watch your hearts and minds now; see to it that you allow no bad 
 
 roomers to come in. Says a writer, "Bad habits are masters ; the slave has only 
 
 one, but how many have we ? " And so it might be added that the turnkey 
 
 puts the law breaker behind only one or two locks, but your habits are as a 
 
 thousand locks, almost closing every avenue of escape. Let me beg of you, to 
 
 remain free, to keep bad company out of the heart, to avoid forming bad habits. 
 
 As students, be social with each other, seek all proper sources of enjoyment, 
 
 but, bear in mind that while the pleasures of society are often agreeable, they 
 
 also consume much time, they lead often to temptations and entail many 
 
 burdens. Therefore be sparing with them. When you are alone, you are 
 
 yourself; in society, said a philosopher, you sometimes must be somebody else, 
 
 at 'least you are tempted or even forced to be somebody else. Fashionable 
 
 society does not often recognize real worth, for wealth and beauty generally take 
 
 its place. Social conversation often leads to trouble, and these troubles you may 
 
 safely avoid by staying at home, where your tongue keeps quiet. Never indulge 
 
 much in talking, for often will you be sorry for words spoken thoughtlessly. We 
 
 are often innocently led into making statements which, when once made, are 
 
 like stones that have left the hand, they belong no more to us, neither can we 
 
 stop them in their course. Said a great man, when speaking of having attended 
 
 social parties, " I often came home less of a man than I was when I went." We 
 
 are constantly tempted to talk freely ; most people love to hear themselves talk ; 
 
 but free talkers often destroy their own peace and that of others. Select not 
 
 your friends among such, for you are apt to regret it. Young students are often 
 
 dazzled by those who have glib tongues, and thus they form friendships hastily
 
 138 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 and inconsiderately ; friendships which lead to no good. Grow slowly into 
 your friendships ; see who it is upon whom you bestow this boon, and if you 
 find you were mistaken in selecting a companion, cut him off! Be sparing in 
 your friendships, be friendly to all, but let your bosom friends be few. Friends 
 sometimes turn out to be "robbers of our time and invaders of our privacy. " 
 Make it a rule not to make too much of any fellow student, lest you might be 
 compelled to make too little of him. He who goes with persons afflicted with 
 contagious diseases, is apt to catch the ailment; he who goes with students 
 addicted to immoral or ungentlemanly habits, can scarcely escape catching im- 
 morality and rudeness. Lively fellows, men given to the same evil habits and 
 inclinations, like sparrows and blackbirds, always go in flocks, for birds of a 
 feather flock together, but, says a thinker, eagles fly alone. 
 
 There are many young people, and older ones too, who cannot bear to be alone, 
 for they are poor, miserable company for themselves. Hence they seek society ; 
 they visit every theatre and opera house where anything can be seen or heard ; 
 they indulge in all manner of games ; they love to gossip, and all this because 
 they are but poor, miserable company for themselves, because tune hangs heavy 
 on their hands. Time is one of the most precious gifts, yet how wasteful we are 
 with it. When Queen Elizabeth was about to die, she offered all her possessions 
 for a little time, an article which you have now in abundance. Oh, use it care- 
 fully and wisely ; for though your ball of twine seems to be large, though it seems 
 to unravel slowly, believe it, there is an end to this string, and there is a day 
 known to God now which must be your last. Ministers who have visited death-beds 
 testify to the fact, that selfishness, wordliness and waste of time are among the 
 chief causes of unhappy death-beds. Oh, that I might cause you to realize now 
 what you are sure to realize in later years, namely, the preciousness and the short- 
 ness of time. Oh, that you might do every day your duty toward yourselves 
 and others, for this is the only ladder that leads to fame and distinction. 
 Said a young musician to me, "How can I best secure fame? What must 
 I do to have reputation?" My answer was, "Do every day's duty as well 
 as you can. No other road leads that way." It is sad to think that 
 there are so many who leave this world pretty much as they found it, having 
 done nothing toward the progress of self or others. Employ your time 
 well, for sometimes the busiest people waste most of this precious article. Learn 
 to find contentment within yourselves, and thus time will never hang heavy upon 
 your hands. By improving yourselves, you will be able to dispense with the 
 amusement world, which robs you of much valuable time, and which is apt to 
 lead you into trouble. You deprive yourself thereby of certain pleasures, it is 
 true, but you avoid also much pain, and, as an old philosopher says, " There is 
 more true happiness found in avoiding trouble than there is in actual indulgence." 
 Says another philosopher : " The man who feels constantly the need of company 
 and pleasures, is like a State which imports everything, but produces nothing. ' ' 
 He is sure to remain poor hi the end. Amusement seekers have no peace ; they 
 are forever on the alert for new pleasures ; they are apt to get into bad company ; 
 they are somewhat like the giddy fly, which gayly and thoughtlessly roams 
 around until suddenly it is caught in the spider's web. Amusement seekers 
 always are poor students ; they are nearly always poor thinkers. Do some think-
 
 THE VALUE OF A MUSICAL EDUCATION. 139 
 
 ing for yourself; do not import exclusively ; raise a crop of home pleasures, for 
 these you may have at any time. 
 
 Take the best care of your health. Health depends upon steady and judicious 
 employment, and upon a rational, regular, moderate style of living. Be systematic 
 and moderate in your work, in your rest, in your social intercourse, and also in 
 your eating and drinking. I attribute my good health to the systematic living 
 and working which I have followed for twenty-five years. You may feel the 
 power within you to do great labors, but be sure that you do not overtax the 
 body, for thus you live no longer on the interest of your money, but you are act- 
 ually using up the capital. Reduce your needs and wants to the minimum, for 
 thus will you stand the least chance of disappointment and privation in life. He 
 who needs a big house for his happiness, has much expense in furnishing it and 
 much labor in keeping it in order. But do not go to the other extreme of deny- 
 ing yourself the necessities of life. Students who endeavor to deprive themselves 
 of necessities, will find to their sorrow, that when they have nearly accomplished 
 their task, they have also ruined their health. 
 
 Healthy students are usually happy students, for happiness, says a writer, ds 
 necessary to health ; but health does not always produce happiness. In the end, 
 happiness, like many other states and conditions, is in part, at least, a matter of 
 habit. Happiness is not apt to allow those other roomers, already mentioned, to 
 take possession of your own house and home. Happiness, in a sense, means free- 
 dom and enjoyment of labor and of one's own existence. Cultivate it now, and 
 believe it, that in later years, it will prove to be a big shade tree under which you 
 may rest securely. Happiness desires to see others happy, and, says Sydney 
 Smith, "If you send one person, only one, happily through each day, that 
 makes 365 in the course of a year. And suppose you live only forty years after 
 you commence that course of medicine, you have made 14,600 beings happy, 
 at all events, for a time. " Be happy and diligent students and you are pretty 
 sure to meet happy teachers. What a trial it is to instruct soured, ill-natured, 
 fault-finding pupils, and what a delight it is to see sunny faces about you. Verily 
 the latter always have my best efforts. He who does no good, rarely ever gets 
 much good ; he who cares not for others, soon finds that others care not for him. 
 Be mindful of the wants of others, for thereby others will also be mindful of your 
 needs. The student who shirks duty is not happy. Never shirk duty, never 
 put off till to-morrow what ought to be done to-day. Every day has its own duty ; 
 do it with all your energy, for to-morrow brings new responsibilities, and, if you 
 would make good the neglect of to-day, you must, on to-morrow, overtax, or at 
 least double, your energies. If your life is a journey, remember you never go 
 twice over the same portion of it. If your life is as a book, with as many leaves as 
 you may h've days, you never write twice on the same page. You never live a 
 single day twice over. A day seems but a little span of time, it is only morn, noon 
 and night, yet poets like Pope, Young and others have deemed it one of the 
 greatest sayings of the Emperor Titus, that he bemoaned the loss of a day. 
 Every day brings you nearer to that line which divides the known from the 
 unknown, and the devout Lawrence Scutari correctly said, "Spend it always as 
 if it were your last. " 
 Many music pupils err in constantly looking toward the end of the year or
 
 140 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 the term. They wish to know positively what they shall have accomplished by 
 that time, and when telling them what others have accomplished, they are con- 
 tinually on a strain trying to do as much as others did. Avoid this, for it is 
 hurtful. Do every day's duty, and let to-morrow take care of itself. Whatever 
 you may have accomplished at the end of the term, if you were faithful, that is 
 all you can do, and with a good conscience you may rest, feeling assured that you 
 have gone as far on the road of improvement as lay in your power. 
 
 Avoid all half-way work. It is one of our national failings to be sometimes 
 contented with outward appearances, but be assured, this sin is fast vanishing 
 from our national character, and with every succeeding generation, Americans 
 look more and more to real merit in learning as well as in character. Many young 
 music pupils measure their progress by the number of pieces they have in their 
 portfolios. This also is a great error, for only what you know is your own, 
 not what you have. I have had pupils who in their great eagerness for progress 
 practiced too much. Bear this in jnind, that your work will benefit you only as long 
 as the MIND is fresh and active. Whenever you work beyond this limit, you begin 
 to consume your capital, you shorten your days. Aside from this, such work 
 avails but little. Set aside regular hours for practice and also for rest and for the 
 reading of good books. I am a friend of newspapers, but remember that mere 
 newspaper reading is sure to lead to shallowness of mind. Strive to cultivate 
 your minds ; store them with good knowledge, for the mere singer and player is 
 in these days regarded as a machine that simply grinds out music. There is 
 more demanded of you than the mere ability to sing or play, for a musical educa- 
 tion consists of more than a high degree of execution. 
 
 Take daily exercise. Your body is a piece of machinery, says a doctor, the 
 interior of which is constantly in motion ; give the frame also a chance to move 
 and to exercise. Breathe plenty of fresh air, for this is the food for your blood. 
 Open windows and doors and let in fresh air and sunlight, for both are needful 
 for the student. That our health is of the utmost importance is plain from the 
 fact, that when we meet friends we first ask, "How do you do ? " When answer- 
 ing this question, stop a moment and think whether you do well with yourself. 
 Many young people fail to appreciate the value of health, and never realize the 
 greatness of this blessing until it is lost. Value your health, for it is a bank 
 account, which you draw upon every day, and which may at any time run out. 
 Do not overdraw it, for there is no borrowing of health, no matter what interest 
 you offer. 
 
 The healthy and clear-headed man usually sees the world as it is ; he sees it as 
 if it were reflected in a clear mirror ; the sick man sees it through a glass that is 
 blurred and untrue. How can he act prudently and wisely ? It is worse than 
 foolishness to trifle with one's health ; it is wicked ; for its loss robs you of your 
 usefulness and happiness. In your intercourse with students, and, indeed, under 
 all circumstances, guard your honor. Seek not your honor merely in the opinions 
 of others, but be the honor itself, clear to the core of the heart. You may be 
 regarded as a good student, and at the same time be a consummate scamp. You 
 may be looked upon with suspicion, and yet have honor. This inward knowledge 
 of being on the side of right is honor. Honor is of more worth than gold. It 
 may be quickly lost, but it requires years to restore it, if indeed it can ever be
 
 THE VALUE OF A MUSICAL EDUCATION. 141 
 
 fully restored. To have one's honor questioned, wounds our feelings ; be there- 
 fore slow to doubt that of others. It is better that you were deceived twenty 
 times, than that you should suspect or accuse one person unjustly. While public 
 opinion is unable to create or to destroy your honor, it is nevertheless of importance 
 to you that you should be well spoken of. Never be indifferent toward public 
 opinion, but never seek to turn it into your favor by sacrificing principles. Always 
 see to it that you are right, and then fear no one. Have some positive influence. 
 Act so that when in after years your name is mentioned and your influence is 
 measured, it shall not merely be said of you that you were good pupils, that you 
 never failed, that you never were known to do a wrong thing, but rather strive to 
 have it said that you exerted a decided influence for good. 
 
 Be assured your true standard will be ascertained, your mental and moral cali- 
 bre will be tested and measured by teachers and fellow students. He who thinks 
 that among students he can appear as something else than what he is, is much mis- 
 taken. Your and my character will be read without fail, and is it not the wisest 
 plan to be open, frank and candid ; is it not the wisest to appear exactly as we are ? 
 
 While I would not have you be over-sensitive, for this fault brings much trouble 
 to our hearts, yet would I urge you to look well to your right and left. I would 
 have you open your ears for criticism, for, from those who uncover our faults, we 
 learn more than from those who bestow fulsome flattery. It is customary to com- 
 pliment those who sing or play well, and flattery is an exceedingly pleasant dish 
 for the average musician. You may do well and be deserving of praise, yet 
 you should not forget that perfect performances are as rare as perfect bodies and 
 souls. Remember also, that while you have done well, others have done better, 
 and there is room for improvement clear around the circle of your art attain- 
 ments. Of all faults that make young people most frequently disagreeable and 
 unhappy, jealousy and conceit are two of the commonest. 
 
 Jealousy is one of the meanest of human faults, for it envies others their own 
 possessions. The jealous person attempts to obtain for himself the praise and 
 honors due others ; at least, he would withhold that which is due. Often he 
 speaks in an unfriendly tone of others, and secretly he wishes evil and ill success 
 to the one envied, and thus becomes malicious. What if a fellow student has 
 attained higher perfection than you ; would you have this perfection, attained 
 through much labor, destroyed or belittled, simply because you are a lesser 
 light? Ought you not rather rejoice, that so high a degree of perfection has 
 been attained by human effort, and ought we not to esteem those who through 
 diligence have attained it? How mean, then, to be jealous, how mean to belittle 
 the efforts of others. Would you not feel grieved to hear others belittle your 
 own efforts? Endeavor to establish an atmosphere of generosity; listen not 
 to those who try to destroy the reputation of others ; give credit honestly 
 for what is due others, remembering what Carlyle said : " It is one of the 
 noblest traits of human character to recognize the worth of others. " Not to do 
 so is a mean trait, which I hope never to encounter here. 
 
 It is claimed that we musicians are especially afflicted with jealousy and con- 
 ceit, but this is a false charge, for both faults blossom and often come to ripe 
 fruit in other professions. Conceit, like the measles, is a disease which breaks 
 out more or less among all young people. All that is needful is to watch that the
 
 142 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 disease does not strike in, for if it does, there is scarcely any hope for recovery. 
 There is a period in every one's life, when, in order to see either the smartest or 
 the handsomest young person, the young man steps before his own mirror. 
 There are people so conceited that they imagine the west end of the town 
 is sure to tip up whenever they step toward the east. Conceit is always 
 a way-bill of an empty head. The cranium must be filled with something, and 
 the room which is not occupied by solid learning, is usually given over to 
 conceit. He who knows much, realizes the vastness of the fields of learning, 
 and comparing with it, his own limited stock of knowledge, is apt to proclaim : 
 How little we know, after all Conceited people are an innocent sort of beings. 
 Conceit, therefore, is a harmless sort of a malady, harmless in its effects upon 
 others, when compared with jealousy. How silly to think too much of oneself, 
 for it is the sheerest self-deception. What if you think yourself twelve feet 
 tall, there is sure to be some one who considers himself still taller than you. 
 Conceit, however, often provokes us, for the conceited man not only overestimates 
 himself, but also undervalues us. Be assured, young friends, that the conceited 
 student is cordially disliked among his classmates. Often this ailing disease is 
 brought in from other places, for it does not easily take root in a large school. 
 Generally the conceited one conies from some small academy, where he stood at 
 the head of his class, on account of which he has become an object of praise and 
 admiration. Of course, he becomes inflated, like a football, and when at last he 
 enters the university, he is apt to be treated like one. 'Tis hard that it should be so, 
 but then young people often are inconsiderate ; they have their strong likes and 
 dislikes, and they especially dislike a conceited fellow student. There is always a 
 disposition to let the wind out of the innocent little balloon, and this operation 
 often is apt to be painful and vexatious. Usually the knife of ridicule is used, 
 for this seems to be the only instrument sharp enough to penetrate the rhinoceros 
 hide of the conceited one. There is danger, however, that the operation of 
 letting the wind out of the balloon may be too sudden, for in that case there is 
 apt to be a great fall, from which there may be no rising. Look about you, and 
 you will find everywhere young men who, in their own estimation, are Adon- 
 ises, Ciceroes, Napoleons or Shakespeares, and so we find some who imagine them- 
 selves to be Liszts, Beethovens, Pattis and Nillsons. 
 
 When the Scotch pray that they might be blessed with a canty conceit o' 
 themselves, they mean not to pray for the power of over-estimation, but rather 
 that they might have a proper appreciation of themselves, that they might "see 
 themselves as others see them." Self-knowledge is apt to produce self-confidence, 
 and self-confidence is not to be confounded with conceit. The conceited man 
 overrates his powers and has nothing wherewith to sustain his high opinions of 
 self; the self-confident man knows his powers ; he trusts in them, uses them 
 judiciously and effectively, and for this reason generally succeeds. The self-confi- 
 dent man dares to aim at the prize and often he gains it, while he who hesitates, 
 seldom wins anything. Self-confidence is needful in all stations of life ; he who 
 lacks it, is an humble sort of a fellow, better designed to follow and to serve, 
 than to lead. He needs constant advice and encouragement, and people usually 
 weary in bestowing it. 
 
 Keep your imagination in check. 'Tis a useful article to the artist, but it is
 
 THE VALUE OF A MUSICAL EDUCATION. 143 
 
 often a very untrustworthy mirror of life. Do not waste time and strength in 
 building castles in the air, for you can't live in them ; they won't keep you 
 warm, and in the end they will be pulled down either by yourself or others. 
 Build on solid facts ; build solid houses, resting on genuine attainments. Vision- 
 ary people are driven to and fro ; they are unstable. They are apt to be optim- 
 ists or gloomy pessimists. 
 
 Be prudent about the display of your knowledge and wisdom. Do not press 
 your ideas too much forward. Talk only about those subjects with which you are 
 familiar, for knowledge, like timber, says a writer, should be well seasoned before 
 it is used. Be a ready listener, and a reluctant talker. Never be ashamed to 
 confess your ignorance of a subject ; hesitate not to ask questions. Most people 
 will be generous toward you when confessing a lack of information, but they can 
 hardly be expected to be generous toward the pretender. 
 
 Be polite to all. Cultivate politeness as a habit, for it cannot be put on and 
 off at pleasure. Politeness endears you to everybody ; as future teachers, 
 preachers, physicians and lawyers you need it every hour in the day. Cultivate 
 it now, so that it may become a part of yourselves. 
 
 Cultivate patience. Be patient under reproof, patient in the discharge of 
 duty, patient in waiting for results. 'Tis foolish for pupils to be impatient under 
 reproof, if kindly administered. You come here for the purpose of being 
 reproved ; you need your teachers' corrections ; how foolish, then, to feel unduly 
 sensitive and restless, or even offended, when corrected. Impatience makes your 
 work all the harder, while your restlessness eventually becomes a serious impedi- 
 ment to happiness in life. Write these lines as a golden lesson in your mind ; 
 wait patiently on the world and its opportunities, but never keep the world wait- 
 ing on you. "Wait patiently until the world shall recognize your merits. Be 
 patient in ^bearing with the peculiarities of others ; do not hastily and rashly 
 attempt to correct or reprove what you see amiss in others. Do not press your 
 own individuality too forcibly upon others, but miss no chance to place yourselves 
 under the influence of great and good men. He who builds a house by the 
 wayside must be satisfied to let people passing by criticise his plan ; so if you 
 play and sing in public you must expect people to criticise your efforts. Be patient 
 under criticism. 
 
 Compare yourself with others, but look not exclusively up or down measure 
 yourself with those above as well as with those beneath you. Be severe in 
 your judgment of yourself, but be lenient toward others ; be not easily satis- 
 fied with your own attainments ; seek to see the faults of your own work ; but 
 when criticising the work of others, seek first to see that which is good. Seek not 
 after distinction, but do everything well, because this is the right way to act, 
 feeling contented with having done your full duty. It was Riickert, the poet, 
 who said, that the rose which ornaments the bush also ornaments the garden. 
 What if your merits are not recognized by others, you are surely not the sufferer, 
 for you are still what you are, and more than that you cannot be. I love the 
 spirit of emulation and competition ; I like to see men strive for front places and 
 honors, but those who recite best, those who obtain first honors, are not always 
 the greatest men. Who then is the greatest ? Not he or she who recites, or 
 plays, or sings best, but, says a good man, he who chooses right with invincible
 
 144 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 resolution, he who resists the sorest temptations from without and within, he 
 who bears the heaviest burdens cheerfully, he who is the calmest in storms and 
 whose reliance on truth and virtue, on God, is the mos^ unfaltering. 
 
 It only remains for me to speak on the subject of your musical studies. There 
 is a truth in music as there is a truth in religion, in the sciences, and in politics. 
 The question which I wish to put to you now is this. Is it wise to spend one's 
 time in following error when the truth lies right at our feet ? Surely not. Is it 
 right to read dime novels when there are so many good books to be had, and that 
 almost for the mere asking for them ? Is it right to live on the husks when there 
 is so much good corn growing ? Surely not. Is it right for you to use the divine 
 art as a thing of fashion or selfish gratification when it may do your souls good ? 
 Surely not. We use only the purest gold of music in this workshop. But say 
 some, there are many people who pass brass for gold, or who even prefer it to 
 gold. Let me say that if the people, the world over, were to take brass for gold, 
 it is your duty to expose the fraud. If all people were to run after Baal, would you 
 join the crowd and deny your God ? No, you would stand by the truth ; and the 
 same you should do in your musical studies. The truth comes from God ; to stand 
 by the truth means to stand on God' s side, and this makes you strong. But say some, 
 my friends do not like such music. In reply, let me say that you do not study 
 music to please your friends, but to elevate yourself and others. Every lover of 
 truth can afford to wait until those for whom he labors see the truth also. That 
 good music must win the victory, is as sure as the fact that the Gospel must win 
 the victory. Let us help, then, to hasten the good time coming, by doing our 
 share toward the spread of good music. 
 
 And now in closing, only a few words in behalf of those good parents you leave 
 when you go to college. There are, to-day, many anxious fathers and mothers 
 whose children are before me. There may be those among them who do not pray, 
 but there are none among them who do not wish their children to do well, none 
 who wish you to forget their parental ^instructions. Never, therefore, undertake 
 anything of importance without asking yourself in your heart, whether your parents 
 would sanction your action. You may, and you may not, be children of the 
 church ; but even if you are not, remember the old Sabbath-school lessons which 
 you received. Do not cut loose from the old moorings of home instruction. And 
 now success to you and to your endeavors. May our efforts be crowned, and may 
 we all feel that it was good for us to have met ; may we realize our expectations, 
 and may you accomplish that which you seek.
 
 MEMORY. 
 
 The ability to play music from memory is justly regarded as an accomplish- 
 ment. Of late, however, an undue importance has been attached to it, for 
 pianists seem to vie with each other in the exhibition of the power of memory, 
 even more so than in the art of playing itself. That the power of playing from 
 memory is of great value, both to teacher and pupil, cannot be denied, and it is 
 therefore a proper, yes, even a very profitable subject for consideration. 
 
 Memory is that power which enables us to store away in that great, unseen safe 
 of ours the mind the many ideas that have presented themselves to it. Mem- 
 ory retains all past ideas and perceptions of the mind ; recollection, however, as 
 the word indicates meaning to recollect is the faculty which enables us to recall 
 them. Recollection is usually spontaneous ; it is not as much subject to the will 
 as appears to the general observer. Yet it must be said, that the will often is of 
 great assistance to us in the exercise of this faculty. Memory is the safe, it is the 
 storehouse for thought ; without it, we would gain no knowledge. But, says a 
 writer, memory is not like a post-office box, or like a pigeon hole, in which all 
 information may be stored like so many letters or memoranda ; to the contrary, it. 
 ought to be like a well edited periodical, which prints nothing that does not har- 
 monize with its intellectual life. This implies that the mind should not be mind- 
 ful of anything that does not benefit it, or that does not come up to our moral and 
 intellectual standard. Memory is absolutely necessary for our existence; for 
 without it, there could be no personal identity. Haven says : " Memory is our 
 only voucher for the fact that we existed at all at any previous moment. " 
 
 Nature never bestows her gifts equally. To some she gives great power, while 
 others are left almost empty handed. The power of memory also is unequally dis- 
 tributed. It must, however, be borne in mind, that the power of memory is to a 
 great degree the result of cultivation. Some persons, as we shall presently see, 
 have attained an unusual degree of perfection of memory ; their mental safes 
 seem to be both larger and more secure than those of others. It must be acknowl- 
 edged that the power of retaining and recalling facts, dates, incidents, faces, ideas, 
 locations and so forth, is certainly a most remarkable gift ; for all, it is true, that 
 this power is not by any means the highest faculty of the human mind. The 
 mere memorizer Is, at best, but a mechanical being, his mind is simply stuffed 
 with other people's ideas. Or, if we would make another comparison, the 
 mind that thrives only by memorizing, is but as a cistern. It must be filled 
 from the roofs, while the mind of the original thinker is as the well, that supplies 
 itself. Pump out the facts of a "memorizing man," and like a cistern he event- 
 ually becomes empty ; but try to pump the ideas out of a thinking mind, and you 
 will never strike bottom, for, like a well, it supplies itself. One idea leads to another, 
 one thought produces another. The memorizer' s mind is as a storehouse in 
 10 145
 
 146 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 which so much merchandise is put away ; the thinking man's mind is as a factory 
 that produces this merchandise. As the merchant must go to the manufacturer 
 to replenish his stock, so the rnemorizer must go to the thinker for his ideas. 
 
 The power of memory has been the subject of much investigation and many 
 curious theories have been advanced with regard to it. Thus it is said, that the 
 memory of the lower classes of human beings is superior to that of the more civilized 
 races, because the primitive people must rely more upon their memories for the 
 preservation of facts, while educated people may refresh their memories at any 
 time by referring to books and manuscripts. It has also been observed, that 
 idiots and otherwise weak-minded people had remarkable memories. This is a 
 flat contradiction of the idea entertained by many, that those who are possessed of 
 good memories, are also great people. In the "Memoirs" of Mrs. Summer- 
 ville, we read of an idiot, who lived in Edinburgh, Scotland. He could repeat the 
 entire sermon he heard on a Sabbath ; yes, more than that, he could tell where 
 the preacher coughed and where he wiped his nose. The same writer epeaks of 
 another idiot, who knew the Bible so well, that he could, without hesitation, tell 
 where any verse was to be found. Archdeacon Fearon speaks of a man who, 
 though a complete fool, could remember the day when every person had been 
 buried in the parish for thirty-five years, and that he could recall the name and 
 age of the deceased, as well as the names of the mourners that attended the 
 funeral. Aside from these facts, he could not give an intelligent reply to a single 
 question. 
 
 It has been said that memory, as a rule, is stronger among the uneducated. 
 Let me give a few illustrations. Hone, in his " Table Book," speaks of a Sussex 
 farm laborer named George Watson. Upon being asked what day of the week a 
 given day of the month occurred, he immediately named it, and also mentioned 
 where he had been and what the state of the weather was. A gentleman who 
 had kept a record put many questions to him, and his answers were invariably 
 correct. Daniel McCarthney, a native of this country, who had no higher employ- 
 ment than turning the wheels of a printing press, had a prodigious memory. 
 He declared, says Mr. Henkle, in the Journal of Speculative Philosophy, that he 
 could remember all the dates and the days of the week, from 1827 to 1869 ; that 
 is, from the time he was nine years old up to his forty-second year. He also could 
 tell where he had spent each of these 15,000 days and what he did. He was 
 employed in the ofiice of the Salem Republican, and, says the Hon. T. K. 
 Ruckenbrod, upon turning to the files of the Journal, the man was always found 
 to be correct. This man's memory, however, was not confined to dates alone. 
 He could give the cube-root of such figures as 59,319 or 571,787. He could 
 also repeat 250 hymns and sing 200 tunes. "With all this singular power of 
 memory, however, he was not a man whose general grasp of mind was in any 
 way noteworthy. 
 
 Reid, in his "Intellectual Powers," gives an instance of an ignorant woman, 
 who in a fever recited page after page of good Greek, Latin and Hebrew, which 
 were identified as passages she had heard by chance many years ago. This, says 
 the writer, is an instance showing the permanence of simple impressions. It is 
 no doubt a fact, that the mind keeps all impressions it receives. This, however, 
 by no means implies the power of recollecting or recalling them at any time.
 
 MEMORY. 147 
 
 Sometimes when sitting quietly at rest, memory seems to delight in opening its 
 safe, and the power of recollection, as if it were playing with me, repeats names 
 of persons of whom I had not thought for twenty-five years. Incidents, which 
 I am sure have never been recalled by my memory since I came to this country, 
 suddenly recur and dance before me, as if to tantalize me. It is said, Our power 
 of recollection is not our power of memory. We remember what we cannot 
 recall, but the time will come when we can recall all that the mind has remem- 
 bered ; in other words, all that the mind has been mindful of. The idea that 
 what has once been put into the mind will remain there forever, is one that 
 ought to make us cautious as teachers and parents. It is a most serious idea, and 
 should make us careful in our intercourse with others. A trifling remark upon a 
 serious topic may escape the mind of him who uttered it, but it often makes an 
 indelible impression upon the mind of him who hears it. 
 
 Observation goes to show that the memory is most tenacious ; that under certain 
 circumstances, it suddenly and infallibly recalls impressions made years ago. 
 Doubtless through some imperfections of the mind, we are prevented from 
 recalling all we saw and heard. Insignificant incidents are often hidden away 
 in the mind, as little slips of paper are hidden among an immense mass of manu- 
 scripts which fill an author's drawer. Let a favorable opportunity arise and 
 these insignificant ideas and almost forgotten facts turn up, as do the little slips 
 of paper just alluded to. 
 
 An educational journal speaks of a lady in the last stages of a chronic disease, 
 who was carried from her London home to a friend's country residence. While 
 there, her infant daughter was brought to visit her, and after a short interview 
 was carried back to town. The lady died a few days later, and the daughter 
 grew up without any recollection of her mother. When she had reached a mature 
 age, she happened to be taken to the room in which her mother died, without 
 knowing of the occurrence. Upon entering she became agitated, and when asked 
 for the cause, she replied : "I have a distinct impresssion of having been in this 
 room before, and that a lady, who seemed very ill, lay in this corner, bending 
 over me in tears. ' ' Other and equally remarkable instances showing the tenacity 
 of memory might be given, but it is, perhaps, unnecessary. 
 
 It is claimed by prompters on the stage, and also by professors of elocution, that 
 the memory of women, as a rule, is superior to that of men. This accords with 
 my own observation. It is a fact generally acknowledged, that the memory of 
 youth is more vigorous than that of more advanced years. It is most vigorous in 
 childhood, and seems to be strongest about the age of fifteen, from which period 
 it generally begins to decline. It must, however, not be inferred from this state- 
 ment that the decline of memory implies also a decline of mental activity. Mem- 
 ory, as has been stated, is to a great degree the result of training. During the 
 years when the boy or girl is at school, memory is constantly exercised and thereby 
 strengthened, while in later years this practice is somewhat neglected ; at least, 
 memory is not trusted to a very great extent. While professional men must rely 
 upon memory, while merchants and mechanics will never forget certain facts, it 
 will be generally found true that in later years men tmst more to pen and pencil 
 than to memory. As the mind grows older, it necessarily gathers more learning ; 
 at the same time it is also burdened with greater cares, and is distracted by the
 
 148 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 more serious affairs of life. Hence men in advanced years are not very apt to 
 repeat pretty poetry or interesting quotations. This perhaps explains why men 
 are sometimes forgetful of love's vows, and the many tender promises they made 
 when engaged in that interesting and delightful occupation of making love. 
 Ladies, as has been stated, have better memories, especially in this particular 
 direction. Great tact and wisdom is required in recalling these facts to men's 
 minds, and right here let me say that many ladies err and cause themselves much 
 unnecessary trouble. A physician of prominence claims that the memory of 
 feeble-bodied people, as a rule, is superior to that of robust persons ; and, as a 
 proof, he adds that by examining the condition of students in colleges, it will be 
 found true that those who are the greatest memorizers, are generally those that 
 are lightly built. It is also claimed that the memory of farmers and of country 
 people is, as a rule, better than that of townspeople. We all know that memory 
 is freshest and easiest impressed in the morning, hence Germans say : 
 
 ' ' Die Morgenstunde 
 Hat Gold imMunde." 
 
 It has also been asserted that people living in warm climates have superior 
 powers of memory, as compared with those living in northern countries. 
 Memories excel in different directions. Some easily remember faces, others 
 remember names, while still others never forget dates. Some are easily 
 lost in the woods, or in the streets of a city, while others quickly find 
 the right road. Some children easily remember poems, others can readily 
 commit whole chapters of the Bible, a gift entitling them to the appellation 
 of good children and enabling them to carry off prizes, while those who lack 
 this gift are often and that very unjustly called lazy, or even bad. Because 
 they lack strong memories, it is charged that their minds run away from good 
 things. I do most heartily sympathize with such children, for I, too, belonged 
 to that unfortunate class who found it difficult to commit the catechism. 
 
 The illustrations thus far given referred to the idiotic and to children. Allow 
 me now to give a few instances calculated to show that great and powerful minds 
 may also display unusually strong memories. Before doing so, however, let me 
 briefly allude to the statement made by Sir Arthur Help, who claims that 
 the memory in past centuries, but especially among the ancients, was more 
 powerful than is the exhibition of this faculty among students of to-day. This 
 is equivalent to saying that the power of memory has universally declined, 
 especially since the art of writing and printing has become so widespread. 
 This is not accepted as a fact by physicians. While in these days of scientific 
 investigations and discoveries we cannot exclusively rely upon the memory, 
 we nevertheless use this faculty very extensively more so than did our fore- 
 fathers. We necessarily use the memory more, because the lines of our horizon 
 of knowledge have been removed far beyond that of our ancestors. 
 
 A good, active memory is in these days absolutely necessary for success. We 
 need memory to retain facts of science and mechanical appliances ; memory to 
 retain languages ; memory to retain data and facts in political life, and a very 
 good memory to grasp the lessons of life. Doubtless the ancient Grecian rhap- 
 eodists had remarkable memories, but they are equaled, if not excelled, by the
 
 MEMORY. 149 
 
 modern Shanaiiia-Khans of Persia, singers who recite poetry by the hour from 
 memory, without even stammering. The bards of the Calmucks also repeat 
 songs and poems from memory, the recitation of which sometimes lasts whole 
 days. 
 
 There were Grecians who knew their Homer by heart ; but then, what is this 
 compared with Justice Scaliger's memory, who committed the whole of Homer 
 in twenty-one days, and all the Greek poets in three months. There have been 
 hundreds that knew their Homer by heart. Isaac Walton tells us that Bishop 
 Sanderson could repeat all the odes of Horace, all of Tully's offices, and the 
 best part of Juvenal. We are told of one Porson who knew by heart the writ- 
 ings of Horace, Virgil, Homer, Cicero, and Livy, and all that, before he went to 
 school at Eton, England. A classmate once played a joke on him by slipping a 
 wrong book into his hands just as he was about to read and to translate. But 
 the boy was not at all disconcerted. He simply recited the lesson from memory. 
 In later years he could recite all the Greek poets and prose writers. He could 
 give whole plays from Shakespeare ; he could recite complete books from "Para- 
 dise Lost," and many other works. 
 
 Archdeacon Fearon, in a pamphlet, tells us of a boy fourteen years old who 
 repeated 14,000 lines in Homer, Horace and Virgil. But I must not pass the 
 ancients, for among them we also find men endowed with remarkable powers 
 of memory. We are told that Cyrus remembered the name of every soldier 
 in his army. Lucius Scipio is said to have known the name of every citizen 
 in Rome, when that city could furnish 200,000 able-bodied fighting men. 
 Pontius Latro could repeat verbatim every speech he ever had heard in the 
 Roman Senate. Crassus, when he was praetor in Asia, was familiar with all the 
 Greek dialects ; and Mithridates, king of twenty-two nations, administered their 
 laws in as many languages. But then we also know that Sir William Jones 
 could speak thirteen languages and could read in thirty others. 
 
 A few years ago England could boast of two men, Borrows and Palmer, who, 
 as a writer says, might have traveled from the hills of Wales to the Ural Moun- 
 tains, or from Lisbon to Algiers and Delhi, without meeting a language in which 
 they could not converse. 
 
 Sir William Hamilton tells of a Corsican who had a most remarkable memory, 
 which he tried thoroughly. Words were dictated to him which were selected 
 from the Greek and Latin, and were so arranged that they conveyed no idea. 
 This was continued until everybody was tired. The Corsican then repeated every 
 word, and having done so he recited them backward without missing one. Then 
 he named every third, then every fourth word, etc. , without making a mistake. 
 But what is more remarkable, after a year's time he could still repeat the same 
 words. 
 
 An incident is mentioned of a Polish forester who had been located in Ger- 
 many, and who had neither heard nor spoken his native language for forty years. 
 While under the influence of chloroform, he spoke, prayed and scolded in Polish. 
 
 Mr. von B , envoy to Petersburg, was about to make a visit, but he 
 
 could not tell the servant his own name. Turning to a gentleman that was with 
 him, he said : " Do tell me who I am. " The question excited laughter, but 
 upon explanation he was told who he was, and he finished his visit.
 
 150 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 Who among my hearers has not experienced that uncertainty of memory, when 
 suddenly we fail to remember how a familiar word is spelled ? If grown men are 
 so forgetful, how much more patient should we be with children. In hospitals 
 one meets quite frequently with patients that are deprived of the use of certain 
 words. They cannot, for instance, remember the words knife or tumbler, but 
 speak of the thing that cuts, or the thing we drink out of. Yet such persons 
 have been known to play games that require close observation and much 
 calculation. 
 
 Speaking of the loss of memory, I must recall the case of Rev. Onnond. He 
 met with some financial reverses, took sick, and during that illness he lost his 
 memory. He had forgotten how to read and write ; he could not name any one, 
 not even his wife and children. I knew the man, and testify to the correctness 
 of this statement. Strange to say, one evening he engaged in prayer, when sud- 
 denly his powers of memory returned. In his devotions he mentioned every one 
 of his family by name, and could even recall facts. That night he died, 
 
 In some people the memory is on certain days a blank ; nothing can be 
 recalled or remembered. Dr. Azarn describes a woman who lived two distinct 
 lives. In one she was serious, in the other gay and coquettish. She 
 had no memory that extended to both conditions. When she was gay, she 
 remembered nothing about her serious spell, and vice versa. Indications of such 
 a double life, one sometimes notices among children. Often teachers are forced 
 to ask themselves the question, how it is possible that a child, which a week ago 
 recited such excellent lessons, should to-day be so stupid and thoughtless. Chil- 
 dren sometimes seem to be bereft of the powers of memory, for when asking 
 them questions, which at ordinary times they answered readily, they give 
 us simply a vacant stare. Unless the teacher is a student of the human mind, 
 especially of the minds of children, unless he observes the operations of his 
 own mind in order that he may know something of those minds he is called upon 
 to instruct, he is doomed to meet with many enigmas in the schoolroom, the 
 solution of which will be beyond his ability. 
 
 Such irregularities in children's minds often lead to sickness and premature 
 decay. Many instances are on record in medical works of children who suddenly 
 forgot all they knew. It has been said that impressions once made upon the 
 mind can never be fully effaced. How then do we explain the failing memory of 
 old age ? It can only be explained on the ground that aged people fail to exer- 
 cise this faculty, and that therefore it fails to act readily. 
 
 Men who are remarkable for strong memories are not necessarily remarkable 
 for superior thinking powers. Memory must be cultivated and should receive 
 proper attention in early youth. Yet we must bear in mind this fact, that the devel- 
 opment of memory is entirely distinct from the development of the thinking and 
 reasoning faculties. It is a fact much to be deplored that the memory is allowed 
 to become too important a factor in the educational work. Pupils are not only 
 allowed, but cften forced to rely upon it, at the cost of clear thought and sound 
 reasoning. There are teachers who are either unwilling or unable to see this. I 
 detest any system of education that relies chiefly upon memory, for by it the true 
 inwardness of the lesson is lost sight of. Such pupils must become lifeless, as no 
 doubt their teachers are. We have met pupils who could repeat rule after rule,
 
 MEMORY. 151 
 
 but who never learned how to apply one. I have met pupils who could recite 
 page after page in Butler's Analogy or in mental philosophy, but who under- 
 stood but very little of what they said. And so many young people recite verses 
 from the Bible, but after all know very little of true religion. There are many 
 who can recite poem after poem and can spell a whole class down, who are, after 
 all, utterly unable to express one solid thought. Many parents and teachers are 
 foolish enough to pride themselves upon the memories of their children and 
 pupils. They cram facts, dates, poems, mathematical rules and what not, into the 
 children's minds, overlooking altogether the fact that they are training mere 
 machines ; that by their mistaken course they often undermine the children's 
 health, and perhaps cripple them for life. 
 
 Aside from the formation of character, the most important part of the educa- 
 tional work is to teach the pupil to think that is, to set his mental faculties to 
 work to enable him to use that great and powerful tool, the brain. What matters 
 it if we know ever so many facts, but cannot use them ? We are then, and 
 always will remain, mere one-story people. Great originality appears to be in- 
 compatible with dependence on memory. Those who repeat only what others 
 have said, rarely will say anything worthy of themselves. They fill their minds 
 with other people's ideas. They soak in thoughts, so to speak, but never think. 
 
 Memory, says a writer, must be viewed somewhat like a stomach. Only so 
 much of the food becomes nourishment as is assimilated by the body, through 
 the process of digestion. A stomach that fails to digest the food it receives is a 
 dyspeptic stomach ; so the mind which fails to assimilate the lesson committed 
 by memory, fails to digest it and is a dyspeptic mind. Only those lessons which 
 the mind assimilates will be of service to the future man or woman. Memorizers 
 can tell many things, but they rarely ever say anything very original or profound. 
 Their minds are soaked in other people's ideas, and thereby they have lost the 
 flow and flavor of their own thoughts. They put other people's ideas into their 
 heads, as bald men put other people's hair upon the top of their heads. They 
 cover their baldness, and so far so good, but usually they try to make us believe 
 that the luxuriant crop of hair which they cany about is of their own growth. 
 When examining the article, one readily sees that it is false, and the fact quickly 
 becomes known, beyond a doubt, that the wearer of it is bald. In like manner we 
 soon discover, in the course of conversation, the baldness of the memorizer's brain. 
 He can tell only what he has read, and, like a sponge, as a writer says, he is 
 never very particular as to what he draws in. Squeeze it, says the same writer, 
 and you will be sure to see dirty water. 
 
 It is of the utmost importance that pupils be early trained to think and to express 
 their own thoughts in words. One idea coming direct from a pupil's mind, is of 
 more value to him than the reading of twenty pages of Shakespeare. The idea 
 may have no value to the world at large, but to the person that uttered the same 
 it is of the utmost importance. Education consists not only in putting things 
 into the mind, but also in drawing them out, in setting the mind to work in order 
 that it may reach conclusions through its own activity. I never or very rarely 
 ,give facts which can be drawn out of the pupil's mind by judicious questioning. 
 Many teachers view the child's mind as if it were a mere barrel or a cistern to be
 
 152 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 filled, while in reality the teacher ought to regard it more in the light of a valu. 
 able spring, which he is called upon to open, so that the precious clear water 
 may have free flow. 
 
 Education does not consist entirely in putting the seed into the ground, but 
 also in preparing the soil, in caring for the plants that have sprung up. Mere 
 telling is not teaching, mere committing to memory is not learning. He who 
 raises memorizers has nothing else to do than to follow the text-book. He who 
 would be called a teacher, must aim in every conceivable way to set the mind to 
 work, he must put fire into the mental furnace that moves the brain, and like a 
 good machinist he must know the engine he handles, and watch over it with care. 
 Some pupils' minds are like old rusty machines. They require a great deal uf 
 heat and oil to start them. This operation is sometimes painful, and the teacher 
 is in danger of being suspected of severity ; in the end, however, he is sure to 
 reap his reward. The mental engine must, as a rule, be moved by electric and 
 magnetic forces, and the giving out of these powers is what w ars out the 
 teacher's energies. It is this that weakens him, yet this fact is but very little 
 seen or understood by the masses, nor by pupils themselves. 
 
 Ours is a time which demands thinking teachers, thinking preachers, thinking 
 mechanics and scientists, and for this reason the teacher should do all in his 
 power to force his pupils to think for themselves and to express their own thoughts 
 in their own language. Said a pupil: '' I know the answer to your question, but 
 I can't tell it." "No," said I, "you do not know it, for only that which we can 
 tell or write down in clear comprehensive language, we know. Only that and 
 nothing more. ' ' 
 
 Let us now speak more particularly of the musical memory. When Hans von 
 Biilow at one time played five of the later sonatas by Beethoven from memory, 
 it was regarded as an unheard-of event, and the fact was mentioned by musical 
 journals the country over. It doubtless required tremendous powers of memory 
 to do this. Since then my friend Henry Bonawitz has done the same thing, 
 while another pianist, whose name I cannot recall, played all of Mendelssohn's 
 "Songs without Words" from memory, and did this remarkable feat at one sit- 
 ting. But if the present boasts of remarkable memories, the past is not in the 
 least behind. When the blind Irish harpist Carolan heard one of Viotti's violin 
 concertos, he instantly repeated it upon his harp, although he had never heard it 
 before. When Mozart was in Rome during the Easterweek (1790), he heard 
 Allegri's Miserere. He begged the Pope for a copy of this beautiful composition, 
 but this request was positively refused. While attending the rehearsal, Mozart 
 paid close attention, and upon his return home he wrote down the whole compo- 
 sition from memory. To note down from memory such a complicated choral 
 work indicates a prodigious power of memory. Another instance is mentioned 
 showing the power of the same master's memory. He had promised to write a 
 piano and violin sonata for Mad. Schlick, the great violinist. Instead of attending 
 to his promise, he went to work on other things, and postponed the sonata until 
 a few days before the concert, when the new work was to be played. Mozart 
 then composed the sonata in B flat major, and had the entire work ready in his 
 mind, but still delayed the odious task of writing it down. A day before the concert 
 the lady was terrified, having not yet received the manuscript from the composer.
 
 MEMORY. 153 
 
 She at once sent a servant to remind him of his duty, whereupon Mozart hastily 
 wrote out the violin part and sent it to the lady. In the concert, however, he 
 played his own part from memory, having never played it before. Instead of 
 being proud of such an achievement, the modest Mozart, fearing to attract atten- 
 tion to himself and his gifts, laid a sheet of music on the instrument. He was 
 absolutely afraid lest the Emperor might discover the fact that he was playing 
 from memory. There are musicians who remember as many as twenty, thirty, 
 and even forty operas, each of which would fill an evening. The blind flutist 
 Dullon knew 125 concertos by heart, and distinguished each by a certain number. 
 Other remarkable facts might be given, but I must pass on. 
 
 The mind readily remembers melodies, yes, certain tunes have haunted us for 
 weeks, or have gone with us through life. Tunes usually are connected with 
 incidents, and the one produces the other on memory's page. Tunes open the 
 floodgates of memory, and cause scenes of other days to pass vividly before us. 
 Though the leaves of our life's tree may have been frosted by the approaching 
 winter, we still love to dwell upon the warm days of our spring and summer. 
 
 ' ' When through life unblest we rove, 
 
 Losing all that made life dear, 
 Should some notes we used to love 
 
 In days of boyhood meet our ear, 
 Oh how welcome breathes the strain, 
 
 Wakening thoughts that long have slept, 
 Kindling former smiles again 
 
 In faded eyes that long have wept. 
 
 " Like the gale that sighs along 
 
 Beds of oriental flowers, 
 Is the grateful breath of song, 
 
 That once was heard in happier hours : 
 Filled with balm the gale sighs on, 
 
 Though the flowers have sunk in death ; 
 So, when pleasure's dream is gone, 
 
 Its memory lives in music's breath." 
 
 Deep, deep into the heart goes the song that takes us out of our every day life 
 and guides us, as it were, up to a mountain, from whence we behold the distant 
 landscape through which we wandered. Oh how strong is the yearning to tread 
 once more those paths so wrought with youthful pleasures, and how stern the 
 irrevocable command, to pass on to the silent grave ! Ah, the imagination may 
 take us there, the gale sweeping over these pleasure grounds may fan our weary 
 brow, but it fails to bring us the fragrance it once did. Yet who would not be willing 
 to be led again and again by the gentle hand of song, to see once more the lawns 
 where we played as children, the bowers where we whiled away our time with 
 those we loved best? As the sun's warm rays of the Indian summer plays in 
 vain around the tree, it being unable to bring forth new life, the sap having 
 waned at the approach of winter, so does the recollection of the past come to us 
 through the medium of song, sweet in itself, but unable to give us the pleasures
 
 154 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 belonging to it, or the power of enjoying them. Well did a writer say, that 
 there is no joy in the true memory of music, but a sadness made sweet and holy, 
 because it is inspired by the purest spiritual sympathy, and has its birth and 
 death in melody. 
 
 A strong retentive memory is very useful to a musician. Not only does it 
 enable him to afford pleasures to willing listeners at any time or place, but by 
 playing or singing without the aid of notes, he is free, and is thereby enabled to 
 perform with more liberty and sentiment. The close musical reader is fettered, 
 a good share of his mental activity is expended upon reading the notes, upon 
 observing expression marks, while, if he were free from this bondage, he could 
 throw his whole soul into the performance. The musician who sings or plays 
 from memory is a second-hand improviser, he forgets self, he lives in the music 
 and not in the notes or in his surroundings. This is the reason why musicians 
 prefer to play from memory, and it is the lack of this faculty that keeps so many 
 respectable players from soaring aloft on the wings of their imaginations. The 
 musician who plays from memory is as the bird that flies unfettered ; the musician, 
 however, who is tied to his notes, is as the bird that is tied to a string. 
 
 A good memory is something to be admired and to be worked for. The masses, 
 however, are very apt to overrate it, hence Billow's performance of five of 
 Beethoven's later sonatas from memory was by many considered a greater feat 
 than the performance itself. Such people extol the artist at the expense of art. 
 No matter how we may admire the memorizer, let us not be unmindful of the fact 
 that the memory is, after all, as has been said, but one of the lower faculties of 
 the human mind. 
 
 While the strength of the memory depends upon training, it is a power 
 that cannot be forced. Not all are gifted alike. If a powerful memory is to 
 the musician as a portfolio in which he carries his music, the portfolios of 
 some contain many, those of others contain but few pieces, if any at all. Most 
 of them might be better filled than they are. Parents and teachers often err in 
 discouraging young pupils, when playing from memory. Rather encourage them, 
 but see to it that what they play from memory is correctly played. Slovenly, 
 careless playing from memory, leaving parts out or changing others, ought to be 
 discouraged, and in this particular the teacher cannot be too careful If a little 
 one catches a tune and plays it on the piano, the teacher should be pleased, but 
 he should guard against this practice, whenever it absorbs too much time and 
 crowds the regular lesson into the background. 
 
 It must be said that he who remembers many dance tunes, has not as 
 good a memory as he who plays but one sonata by Beethoven, or a fugue by 
 Bach. Some persons have very incorrect and treacherous memories. When 
 attempting to play without notes, they fare like the Western legislator who 
 was ambitious to make a speech. Said he: "Mr. Speaker, when I reflect 
 upon the character of George Washington ", and here he stopped. Beginning 
 a second time, he said : " Mr. Speaker, when I reflect on the character of George 
 Washington ", and again his memory failed him, and he stopped. He started 
 for a third tune, but ended with the same result. At last a waggish member 
 rose and said : " Mr. Speaker, I rise to a point of order : it is not proper for a 
 member of this house to cast reflections on the character of George Washington :"
 
 >IEMORY. 155 
 
 and amidst shouts of laughter, the man whose memory betrayed him had to 
 subside. Let this be a lesson to all of us. 
 
 If you attempt to play from memory, in public, be very sure that you are the 
 master of your faculties. A failure under such circumstances is sure to bring 
 ridicule upon you, because of your unsuccessful pretense. 
 
 Many players never get a correct impression of a piece upon the tablet of their 
 memory ; others succeed in this direction, but are very easily disturbed and mis- 
 led. Some take in a piece quickly and forget it in a few days ; others must hammer 
 and hammer until the notes remain fast, and these usually are the persons who 
 retain an impression for a long time. 
 
 As a rule the blind have the strongest memories. It is nature's plan, 
 that when one sense is denied us, other faculties are strengthened in order to com- 
 pensate for the loss sustained. In our asylums, the blind sing whole oratorios, 
 and play complete symphonies ; rarely do they ever forget what is once com- 
 mitted. When considering the difficulties presented by such works to those gifted 
 with eyesight, we may comprehend what it means for the blind to sing or play 
 them from memory. It might be said, that the memory easily grasps the melody, 
 yet even this is difficult in such large compositions, for they modulate much, and 
 often change in other respects. But what shall be said of those who remember 
 the altos and tenors, or the inner voices of an orchestral score ? This requires 
 memory pure and simple. 
 
 Having said so much on this subject, it will become plain that the cultivation 
 of musical memory should receive a pupil's attention. In this work, as in all 
 other educational processes, we should be systematic ; that is, our plan for reach- 
 ing a given end, should be based on good reasoning. How then should you 
 proceed ? Before answering this question let me remark, that a lack of memory 
 does not imply a lack of musical talent. Great musicians have been known to be 
 poor memorizers, while most of them are forgetful in matters of every day life. 
 
 He who would use the mind, should know the mind. He should know its 
 operations as well as its capacities. It would be worse than cruel to require of a 
 child's memory what it cannot perform, yet the experiment is daily made, simply 
 because teachers know but little of the mind. Let teachers watch their own 
 memories, and ascertain what may be asked of pupils. Many musicians seem 
 hardly conscious of the fact that they have minds. Let music teachers study that 
 which comes from within, the subjective, as well as that which comes from with- 
 out, the objective. Let them strive to be thinking players and singers, for think- 
 ing leads to correct teaching, to good judgment, and to correct performances. 
 
 In training a pupil's memory, begin with phrases, with easy melodies and chord 
 combinations, then proceed gradually. First commit parts of pieces, then en- 
 deavor to play the whole. But, as has been said, whatever you commit should 
 be a perfect performance. Impress all runs, and chord combinations specially 
 upon your mind, in order that you may have a correct impression of them. 
 Once a piece is incorrectly learned and memorized, it is difficult ever to correct the 
 mistakes. Some musicians when playing from memory, play as if they had the 
 notes before them, they simply read the notes from a copy which they see before 
 them. Others play according to phrases, and by rules of harmony. The latter 
 course is the better. Every singer and player has his own methods of playing or
 
 156 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 singing from memory. But whatever that method may be, the memory should 
 not be disturbed by trying to commit many things at once ; in other words, give 
 the ideas time to settle. He whose mind turns to many things in quick suc- 
 cession, he who attempts many things, rarely ever will succeed in memorizing 
 anything well ; nay, he will impair the powers of his memory. Concentrate your 
 powers on one piece. I have known musicians who, in order to memorize a 
 composition, copied it repeatedly. 
 
 In closing, let me warn you not to bestow too much praise upon the exhibition 
 of musical memory. Do not be dazzled by it, but judge of the performance in- 
 dependently of the display of memory. No musician of high-art ideas will en- 
 deavor to astonish by a display of his powers of memory. By all means train the 
 memory, but do not allow it to become the main attraction of your or your pupils' 
 performances.
 
 WOMAN IN MUSIC. 
 
 It may well be said that woman is the mainstay of the church and the cause 
 of missions, without casting any reflection upon the many excellent men who are 
 workers in Christ's vineyard. Yes, take woman out of the church, deprive mis- 
 sions of her aid, and see what the condition of these causes would be. In a like 
 manner, woman in this country has been the supporter of music and art in general, 
 and without woman's aid, music would never have become what it now is. 
 
 Man is more a creature of the head, woman of the heart. It is, therefore, but 
 natural that woman should delight in music, the language of the heart's emotions. 
 Through her ministering spirit the art has been domiciled in our homes ; she has 
 carried it triumphantly into our concert rooms and opera houses ; she has kept it 
 fresh in the sanctuary, and, what is still more, she has been a faithful and devoted 
 teacher of the art. Would that American boys could be persuaded to practice 
 the divine art to some degree at least, for it would prove to be a means of culture, 
 tending to remove that self-asserting spirit so prominent among our youths. 
 More than that, it would be a delightful recreation and a great source of pleasure. 
 
 My object is to show woman's influence in the fields of musical art. That 
 woman practiced the art in ancient times is plain, from the fact that Miriam and 
 her maids sang and played after the destruction of the Egyptians in the Red Sea, 
 and other instances might be mentioned. That the art was also practiced by the 
 women of other nations is evident from the bas-reliefs found in Egypt, Assyria 
 and other countries, on which women are seen playing instruments. The 
 Grecians had their nine muses; they had their sirens and other female musi- 
 cians, priestesses, and so forth. 
 
 But for my purpose there is no necessity to explore [the writings of the 
 ancient authors, for music is a Christian art. Both music and woman existed 
 before Christ, but our Saviour's birth was the period from which music really 
 began to develop, and from which woman began to be elevated in the social scale. 
 Thus we see that both music and woman have much to be thankful for to Christi- 
 anity, and it is quite natural that woman should readily take to it. There can be 
 no doubt that woman sang in the earlier churches. She was admitted to worship, 
 and she probably joined in singing the Psalms and hymns. Strange that in the 
 light of Christianity, woman should rise so slowly, and that it required so many 
 years to raise her from her inferior place to the position she occupies now. 
 Behold the torture poor woman endured during the dark ages, and even later, 
 under the charges of witchcraft. Only when the great book is opened shall we 
 learn what poor woman suffered during thousands of years, but especially during 
 the tyranny of the dark ages. She was friendless ; not even the church defended 
 her or condemned the superstitious belief in witches. 
 
 That woman during such a period should neither study nor practice the art of 
 
 157
 
 158 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 music is easily believed. Yes, she was even deprived of the privilege of singing 
 in the house of God, for choirs in those times were made up of priests, friars and 
 monks. Yet, no doubt, many a home resounded with gentle lullabies, which 
 flowed from mothers' lips ; no doubt many a hymn was heard within the narrow 
 home, and so also were heard the old folk-songs, those popular airs which come 
 and go like the summer birds. As they make their nests under our roofs without 
 asking for permission, so these songs irresistibly take lodgings in our minds and 
 hearts ; we love them, but we never ask whence they came or who produced 
 them. These airs no doubt made up what may be called the house-music of those 
 times ; but who can doubt that this house-music also resounded in the fields, 
 whenever and wherever woman had to labor ? It is possible that some of these 
 old songs were produced by women ; especially is this claim made with regard 
 to lullabies that have come down to us in Germany, France and other countries. 
 It is far more reasonable to believe that these little ditties came from the heads 
 and hearts of mothers than from the rougher natures of workingmen, or from 
 warlike cavaliers and barons. 
 
 As in olden times, when Christ dwelt upon earth, and in the middle ages, 
 women were often employed as singers and mourners at funerals. Mrs. Hitter 
 says that many of the folk-songs, which, because of their great love power, live 
 so long and exert such a strong influence, were composed by women. There is, 
 however, no evidence of this statement. But if woman has not composed them, 
 she no doubt was the means of spreading them by teaching them to her children. 
 Bear in mind that women were uneducated in those times ; they could neither 
 read nor write. The system of writing music "was very imperfect and difficult to 
 learn, hence these songs had to be perpetuated by committing them to memory. 
 Ah 1 nations have such old airs, while Germany probably has the largest number 
 stored away in that grand old collection by Von Arnim and Brentano, entitled 
 "The Boys' Wonderhorn." Not only was this style of music cultivated among 
 European nations, away in Persia, in Arabia, in Hindoo, we find many and most 
 beautiful specimens of popular songs. May we not also believe that many nuns, 
 leading secluded lives in their convents, having very little communication with 
 the outer world, and especially at a time when the means of communication were 
 very deficient, produced their own songs of praise for their worship. It is also 
 reasonable to believe that the ladies in castles, who waited fondly for the return 
 of husbands and brothers from long and far-off wars, gave vent to their loneli- 
 ness through the medium of song, and when the sad and ever startling news of 
 death came, music must have been to them a solace. Where else could they get 
 the songs through which they poured out their feelings except in their own hearts 
 and minds ? 
 
 During the tune when the troubadours and the minnesingers flourished, a 
 higher and a better style of music came into use. We learn that these singers were 
 accompanied by female musicians known as the trouveresses. The names of some 
 of these are still known. It is claimed that they produced many original songs, 
 but this is denied by some writers. What has been said with regard to the trou- 
 badours is also true of the minstrels who came later. 
 
 It is a most remarkable fact that in the sixteenth century, when woman was 
 excluded from church choirs, a woman, St. Cecilia, was proclaimed to be the
 
 WOMAN IN MUSIC. 159 
 
 patron saint of our beloved art. We do not know whether she was a musician, 
 but so much is sure, she was a godly woman and died a martyr's death. There 
 are many legends told concerning her, according to which, she is said to have 
 resided in Rome, and then again in Sicily. But be this as it may, it is a remark- 
 able fact that a woman was selected as patron saint of the divine art. 
 
 The Reformation was a necessity, for the work of civilization through the gospel 
 had been retarded in many ways, and a new impulse was needed. With the 
 Reformation began the real growth of our art, and from that time also dates the 
 onward movement of woman's elevation. The Reformation at once admitted 
 woman into choirs ; in fact, congregational singing is one of the first outgrowths of 
 this movement. The church had fettered the art, and as it is a growing plant, 
 it sought a new outlet, and this led to the invention of the opera. On the stage, 
 woman quickly proved that she was possessed of great capabilities, and not until 
 she had displayed her powers in this new field was she admitted to Catholic 
 choirs. The invention of the opera took place about the year 1600, and in looking 
 over the history of music since that time, one must acknowledge that woman has 
 indeed accomplished great things. Her musical progress and her advancement in 
 social influence have always kept pace with each other. What a great number 
 of lady singers and players grace musical history during these 300 years ! How 
 many books have been written about them ; how many operas and sacred songs 
 have been written for them j what vast floral and poetic offerings have been laid 
 at their feet, and how richly they have been paid by kings and princes. With 
 what ovations have they been met, and how many of them have been decorated 
 by governments ! You may have heard of the great Mara, of whom G-oethe 
 says so much, of Gabrieli, who moved the masses to tears and frenzy by her 
 singing. 
 
 Catalani's name reaches into our times ; she had a most wonderful voice. The 
 sum of $1200 was paid her in England for singing "God Save the King," and 
 $12,000 was paid her for singing at one festival Malibran was a most fascinating 
 singer ; Schroeder Devrient was the idol of all great musicians ; Sontag was 
 beloved the world over, and when she died all lovers of art mourned over the loss. 
 Lind, the pure and intellectual, the charitable Jenny Lind, will never be forgot- 
 ten. In New York, she gave hi one week $50,000 to the poor. Then there is 
 Nillson, and, last, Patti, who received greater pay and was longer on the stage than 
 any other singer. She was paid from $5000 to $6000 for one concert performance. 
 As to our own country, we have during the past twenty-five years produced 
 quite a number of great singers. There are Kellogg, Gary, Albani, Nikita, Hauk, 
 Thursby, and many others who are known the world over. 
 
 The work these women had to do, the privations they often had to endure in 
 order to fit themselves for their chosen calling, and the good they did through 
 their performances cannot be told in words. They came usually from humble 
 homes, and, rising on the wings of music, they reached positions of honor and 
 gained at times great wealth. They gave the world untold pleasure by their 
 artistic interpretations of art works ; they added largely to our culture and refine- 
 ment. But we must not forget the many women who excelled as pianists, at the 
 head of whom stands Clara Schumann, a nobler musician than whom never graced 
 art history. Though nearly seventy years old, she still plays in European con-
 
 160 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 certs, never failing to arouse great enthusiasm. Then there is Essipoff, Mehlig, 
 Schiller, Krebs, Menter, and our own King, Carreno and Stevens. But we must 
 also mention the celebrated lady violinists that shed lustre on woman's name and 
 fame. In the fore rank of these stand the sisters Millanollo, who set the world 
 nearly wild with their performances ; Mme. Neruda, who was a true artist ; 
 Camilla Urso, who has almost become Americanized, and Theresa Tua, who now 
 astonishes the artistic circles in Europe with her skill. 
 
 In the line of musical literature several names deserve mention. Perhaps fore- 
 most in the ranks of those who have wielded the pen in behalf of music is 
 Madame Raymond Hitter, of Poughkeepsie, who has written excellent essays, 
 in which she displays much learning. Then there is Elsa Polko, who has written 
 many pretty stories ; Anna Morsh, who has also written very excellent sketches ; 
 while our own Amy Fay has made herself famous through her letters. Though 
 they contain but little that is of value to the practical musician, these letters have 
 been widely read and have afforded much pleasure. 
 
 We have seen what woman has done in the fields of music, and now it becomes 
 my duty to draw your attention to the fact that in the line of musical composi- 
 tion, woman does not stand as high as in the fields of executive art. We have a 
 Rosa Bonheur who stands high in the line of painting. There are a few women 
 who use the chisel with truly artistic skill ; in poetry we have many illustrious 
 names, only one of which I shall mention, Mrs. Browning. In the fields of fiction 
 woman has excelled, and the one name, George Eliot, is sufficient to prove that 
 woman has deep thinking and close reasoning faculties. But while woman has 
 done much that is grand in the fields of literature and art, in the field of musical 
 composition she has never reached an eminent position. We have women com- 
 
 ^'posers that are mentioned in our encyclopaedias, but they are few only four in 
 the seventeenth century, twenty-seven in the eighteenth century, and seventeen 
 in the nineteenth. Let me mention a few names : Amelia, sister of Frederick 
 the Great, composed operas and cantatas. Leopoldina Blahatka, of Vienna, 
 published seventy pieces, some of which were admired by Beethoven. Josephina 
 
 Long, Mendelssohn's friend, composed charming songs. Fanny Hensel, Mendels- 
 sohn's sister, wrote many pretty things. Louisa Rugat composed songs which 
 enjoyed great popularity in France. Madame Schumann, the wife of the famous 
 composer, produced many fine numbers. Madame Garcia wrote but few songs, 
 but they were excellent pieces. Virginia Gabriel, the English ballader, wrote 
 songs that were popular wherever the English tongue is spoken. 
 
 Why is it that woman does not excel in the fields of musical composition ? 
 Many reasons have been assigned, but none of them are satisfactory. When 
 considering woman's emotional nature, it would seem as if the field of musical 
 composition would be best suited for her activity, for music is the language of 
 emotions. Why is it, then, that woman failed to enter this field with more 
 success? An organism as sensitive to the influences of the beautiful, and as 
 responsive to religious ideas, an organism as imaginative and emotional as is that 
 of woman, should have given us the best of works. Some claim that woman 
 lacks the necessary reasoning powers, and that she docs everything intuitively. 
 The latter statement is true in part, but the former, namely, that the thinking 
 powers of man are superior. I cannot subscribe to unqualifiedly. True, women
 
 WOMAN IN MUSIC. 161 
 
 have excelled in the study of languages; they have become good scientists, 
 astronomers, mathematicians, lawyers and physicians; they have successfully 
 entered the lecture field, they have filled editorial chairs, they have been popular 
 novelists, all of which goes to prove that woman has fine thinking powers. Yet 
 why does she not excel as a musical composer? In painting, in sculpture, in 
 poetry, as has been said, woman has reached high positions ; as singers and play- 
 ers women have excelled, why not as composers? Not one musical work from 
 woman's pen has ever held itself in the world's repertoire. Says Mr. Upton, 
 "Man has been the creative representative." Beethoven has shown the depth 
 of music, its majesty, its immortality, Mendelssohn its elegance of form, Handel 
 its solemnity and grandeur, Mozart its wondrous grace and sweetness, Haydn its 
 purity, freshness and simplicity, Schumann its romance, Chopin its poetry and 
 tender melancholy, Schubert its richness in melody, Bach its massive foundations, 
 Berlioz its grotesqueness and supernaturalism, Liszt and Wagner its poetical 
 idealism ; but in the fields of higher art-music woman has been silent, or, if she 
 has been productive, her works have had but an ephemeral existence. The only 
 answer that has the shadow of reasonableness about it is this, that music, being 
 the language of emotions, and woman being preeminently an emotional creature, 
 she cannot project herself outward, any more than she can outwardly express the 
 other mysteries of her nature. "Woman lives and acts in emotion, but she does 
 not behold the results of her actions as man sees them. Woman is governed by 
 intuition, man is governed more by cool reasoning. Hence it is that woman 
 comes more quickly to conclusions than man, but she is not always able to assign 
 a reason for those conclusions. It is a great mistake to suppose that men and 
 women are made alike. They differ in their aspirations, their traits and disposi- 
 tions. Their natures manifest themselves differently. The two characters are 
 complementary ; what is lacking in the one the other has, hence the two together 
 make the whole human being. The one is preeminently a head power, the other 
 more preeminently a heart power. The mind must control the emotions ; it dis- 
 cerns them ; man can watch his emotional nature better than a woman can watch 
 and analyze hers. She is preeminently a creature of heart ; she follows her 
 emotions and will power, and herein she is usually right, because hers is a higher 
 moral nature ; she comes into the world with purer emotions and higher aspira- 
 tions. Says a writer, to confine woman's emotions to the expression in music, 
 would be about as difficult a task for her as it would be for her to express her 
 religion in thoughts. Woman expresses emotions in music as if they were her 
 own, but to deal with them like mathematical problems, to measure and to 
 express them through the voice or through instruments, is a cold-blooded opera- 
 tion, unsuited to woman's peculiar faculties. 
 
 Mr. Upton claims that when woman advances in years her emotional nature 
 ceases to operate with its former intensity, hence she often loses interest in music, 
 while, as a rule, men continue in their devotion to it. Another writer goes so 
 far as to say that a mother's love for her children undergoes a change when these 
 have reached the years of self-support, while man's love, though it was not as 
 intense as that of the mother, remains the same till the end. I cannot agree 
 with these writers, for there are too many living illustrations to the contrary. 
 Look at Mrs. Schumann, now far over sixty years of age, and yet she is as de- 
 ll
 
 162 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 voted to her art as she ever was. I have played for aged ladies who were more 
 violently aroused by the power of music than younger women. I believe that 
 women give up music so easily when entering active family life because they 
 never studied it as an art They know not what good music is ; they are fed on 
 light, trashy diet ; they studied and used the art merely as a personal attraction, 
 as a means to rule in society. When other duties and pleasures cross the path 
 of such women, naturally enough they drop their music ; it ceases to have attrac- 
 tions for them, for it served its purpose ; it never had entered the innermost 
 recesses of their hearts and minds. What else could be expected of such a shal- 
 low education, if this word is at all applicable here. Give woman a solid musical 
 education, and she will remain true to the art. It is also claimed that woman 
 could never endure the hardships which are incident to great composers' lives. 
 She is not fitted to endure the abuse, the severity of criticism, which is heaped 
 upon them. No doubt man can endure such trials better than woman, still, if 
 woman had been designed for the work of musical composition, this power of 
 endurance would have been given to her also. No doubt she is a finer feeling 
 mortal than man, hence more sensitive to criticism. Strange to say, however, 
 woman is not deterred by fear of criticism from entering other fields of art and 
 those of literature, and even of politics. If she can face it in one field, she surely 
 can face it in another. 
 
 Music is purely an abstract art. It has nothing tangible about it The painter 
 and sculptor see their work, the poet reads his, the musician only hears his. Per- 
 haps, if the art were more tangible, women would more readily become pro- 
 ductive musicians. Or, perhaps, if it were merely an art without a positive 
 science underlying it, she would do better. As it is, the field of musical compo- 
 sition does not seem to be open to her. There may be hidden reasons for this 
 state of things which we have not as yet discerned in woman's intellectual and 
 emotional make-up ; but it may also be that the fault lies in a lack of education, 
 in the neglect of former years. Music is a most delicate plant ; it seems to grow 
 only under favorable circumstances. The development of music was most effec- 
 tively checked in England during the reign of Cromwell. Up to his time Eng- 
 land had produced good musicians, excellent composers ; but nearly two hundred 
 years were required to overcome this check of musical growth, and it is only 
 during the past twenty-five years that England may point to productive musi- 
 cians of note. During these two hundred years England fostered the art, she 
 held festivals, but she failed to produce eminent composers. May it not be that 
 woman, having for ages been neglected, having been denied the boon of a higher 
 education, will after many years of study excel also in this only field of art pro- 
 ductiveness ? It is only of late years that women as a sex enter more seriously 
 into their musical studies, and we have at least the right to hope that in years to 
 come this one shortcoming will be corrected. There was a time when it was said 
 that women could not do this or that ; but behold what they have done, and 
 what they are doing ! Let all women study with seriousness, with diligence ; 
 let them train their minds and develop their emotions ; let them absorb the very 
 essence of art, hoping that continued culture and training will also open to them 
 this one field of human activity, so eminently attractive to their nature. 
 
 As men have attained higher views of woman's sphere and power, they have
 
 WOMAN IN MUSIC. 163 
 
 lent a helping hand ; they have assisted her in attaining to a better education. 
 It may require long years of labor and study for woman to become a success- 
 ful musical composer ; but if she aims not in the right direction she will never 
 attain this desirable end. Behold how indifferent men have, as a rule, been 
 to higher art culture in this country. If they practiced music at all, it was 
 done in a shallow and meaningless manner. Through the impulses given by 
 foreign-born teachers, through the more thorough education of the last two 
 generations, native talent began to develop, and many years must yet pass before 
 we shah 1 be a musical people in the full sense of the word. But unless we toil 
 aud train unceasingly, we shah 1 never reach a high art standard. Let me say, 
 then, to all young men and young women, study music ; study it practically and 
 theoretically ; learn to appreciate pure art, and let us wait for the blessed results. 
 America has pointed to many new ways ; American women have greater educa- 
 tional advantages than have the mass of their sisters abroad ; who knows but 
 that America may yet give us a great female composer. Music should be made 
 an elective, a fit substitute for any other study. There are college professors who 
 claim that music is an easy study, and not an equivalent of others found in the 
 curriculum. Let me invite you to try this study, take up music as an art and as 
 a science, and in a year's time you will acknowledge that there is not a branch 
 now taught in this university, metaphysics excepted, that presents more peculiar 
 difficulties, that needs longer time for complete mastery, than the subjects of 
 harmony, counterpoint and musical composition. Talent is what is required ; 
 gifts are the long poles that knock down the high-hanging fruits. By constant 
 training, talent and gifts are developed. Let us, therefore, do our duty, letting 
 the future take care of itself. 
 
 But whether we shall see the day when women become great composers, or not, 
 this much is sure, that woman is eminently fitted for the work of teaching. 
 With woman's progress came more serious views of the art, and, therefore, 
 more serious views of the work of teaching it. Hitherto, most lady music teach- 
 ers engaged in this work as a mere pastime, as a means to earn a little pin-money; 
 women now enter our professional fields with the expectation of making the work 
 of teaching a life calling. Women no longer regard marriage as the chief end 
 of life ; nay, they begin to view life with greater calmness and with a clearer 
 mind than formerly ; they are determined to be usefiil ; hence they choose a 
 calling ; and I am glad to notice that they engage most seriously in their pre- 
 parations for this work. It is this feature of my work here that interests me 
 most intensely, and it is this feature more than any other that at times draws out 
 my deepest sympathies. Music teaching is congenial to woman's nature, and 
 those who will work hard are sure to meet with success. The standard of our 
 profession is rising steadily, and if you would be a worthy member, you must 
 work steadily and diligently ; you must be wide awake. Ladies especially should 
 devote themselves to singing, for not only will it prove a lucrative study, but it 
 is the foundation of a thorough musical education, and, what is still more, it is 
 conducive to bodily development. It gives us also more lovable and sympathetic 
 voices, thereby increasing our social powers. We are too loud-voiced as yet, and 
 need toning down. Remember what the poet praised in Annie Laurie : 
 "Her voice was low and sweet."
 
 164 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 If woman is not a composer, she has been closely connected with the produc- 
 tion of great works. She has always exercised a powerful influence on com- 
 posers' lives. Run over the works of Mozart, and thirty-three of them are 
 dedicated to women, very few to men. Beethoven's name is thus connected 
 with not less than thirty-five ladies, Schumann with thirty-six, Chopin with 
 thirty-nine, and so forth. These ladies must all have been closely connected 
 with the composers, and perhaps with the special works dedicated to them. 
 If love or friendship were not the direct ties, there must have been esteem and 
 admiration, for men do not dedicate their productions to any one or every one. 
 A dedication is a mark of honor, a token of respect Most composers were 
 happy in love and chose wisely ; a few only remained single or were illy matched. 
 Bach was married twice, each time happily ; yet the second marriage was the 
 more congenial. He was a sturdy Christian, his character was well balanced, his 
 wives were frugal, good managers and peaceable women. Handel was not mar- 
 ried. He loved his mother most tenderly, and next to her he was wedded to his 
 art. In England he enjoyed the friendship of the best ladies ; most noteworthy 
 among them were the Queens Anne and Caroline. Handel was not very sociable, 
 nor was he domestic in his habits. He had a hot temper, and a wedded life 
 would likely have proved to be stormy. It is said that two of his pupils loved 
 him ardently, and both were ready to marry him. In one case the foolish remark 
 of a mother broke off the prospective marriage. When the daughter expressed 
 her willingness to marry Handel, the mother said, with indignation, "What! 
 my daughter marry a fiddler!" Think of Handel as a fiddler I This remark 
 wounded the great composer, and he would have nothing more to do with the 
 family. After the mother's death, the father approached the composer again on 
 the subject of matrimony, but Handel coldly replied that the time had passed 
 for such an alliance. The lady, who loved ardently, fell into a decline and soon 
 afterwards died. The other lady was one in high social standing. He could have 
 married her on condition that he would forsake his profession, but the love for 
 music was greater than that for woman, and the engagement came to naught. 
 Beethoven loved a number of ladies and was eager to marry, but all his endeav- 
 ors in this direction proved fruitless. He never found a fitting companion, and, 
 indeed, it is a most unanswerable question as to what sort of a woman Beetho- 
 ven's wife should have been. He remained chaste, as he wrote, says a writer. 
 On my shelf stands a little volume entitled "Beethoven's Loves," and most 
 interesting reading it is. He loved early and loved often, and there is reason to 
 believe that he was quite susceptible to woman's charms. He imagined, for 
 instance, that a certain lady, Amelia de Sebald, a great singer, loved him, because 
 she looked at him intently, but when he proposed, he was promptly refused, 
 "Because," as the lady said to a friend, "he was so ugly and half-cracked." 
 Foolish Beethoven, he failed to realize that as a musician he was an object of 
 admiration and curiosity, and that everybody looked at him when passing. 
 The most noted among the ladies he loved was the Countess Guiccardi, to 
 whom he dedicated his famous Moonlight Sonata. No doubt this love was 
 genuine, and one can feel it in that matchless sonata, but he was doomed to 
 disappointment, for he was not her equal in rank. She afterwards married 
 a count, while Beethoven remained single. This lady exercised a decided
 
 WOMAN IN MUSIC. ]65 
 
 influence upon our composer, and no doubt this love found its outlet in some of 
 his matchless productions. 
 
 Haydu, the pure and good, loved a girl with all his heart, but she died while 
 he spent some time in a monastery. He married unwisely, his wife being a 
 regular shrew, a bigoted, ill-tempered, fault-finding woman, who made his life 
 bitter. Yet he was blessed with the friendship of many noble-minded women, 
 chief among whom was a Mrs. Genzinger. Doubtless these women inspired him 
 in the production of his last great works, the Creation and the Seasons. 
 
 Mozart had some early love affairs, but he never loved seriously until he visited 
 the Weber family in Manheim. Weber, who was the great composer's uncle, had 
 two daughters, Aloyse and Constance. He fell in love with the former, and so 
 deep was his affection, that he could scarcely wait for the time when he should 
 see her again. Three months later he returned to the family, but the girl scarcely 
 recognized him. She had fallen in love with a worthless actor, from whom she 
 was finally separated. Mozart feigned indifference ; he sang merry songs, and 
 soon began to make love to the younger sister, to whom he was finally married. 
 She proved to be a kind and loving wife, and no doubt made Mozart's life a 
 happy one. He immortalized her in one of his operas, and it is beyond a doubt 
 true that many of his best works were inspired by her. 
 
 Schubert never was married ; it is even doubted whether he ever was seriously 
 in love. In fact, he was not in a position to support a wife. Yet he had his 
 sentimental friendships, and, had he married, his love would have been some- 
 what platonic in its character. Like Beethoven, he was unattractive in person. 
 While spending some years on the estates of the rich and noble Esterhazy family, 
 being engaged in giving music lessons to the Prince's daughters, he flirted for 
 awhile with the chambermaid, and it is owing to her influence that he produced 
 his beautiful divertissement, Op. 16. This number contains certain Hungarian 
 melodies which this lady was fond of singing. Next he fell in love with the 
 younger of the two Princesses, a mere child in years, who never knew of the 
 secret affection of his heart. This girl was the secret influence that led him to 
 write many of his best songs. 
 
 Schumann loved only once, but most intensely. He had a hard struggle to get 
 the prize of his affections, for the girl's father was bitterly opposed to the match. 
 Schumann had finally to invoke the aid of the law in order to secure his Clara. 
 She was a famous player, and proved to be a most devoted wife, who exercised a 
 powerful influence upon his mind and heart. Not less than one hundred and 
 thirty-eight songs did he write to please her, and no doubt many of his best 
 works were inspired by her. Early in life he was infatuated with a lady, a Miss 
 Ernestine von Fricken, but it came to naught. 
 
 Mendelssohn was happily married ; his wife's name was Cecilia. She was 
 loving and true to the end. Mendelssohn had a deep love for his sister Fanny. 
 She inspired him to write many of his great works. When she was about to die, 
 May 14th, 1847, she said to him, "Depend upon it, by my next birthday you 
 will be with me." He died four days before that date, on the 4th of November. 
 
 Chopin is the romanticist whom all ladies love, and his own life was a con- 
 tinued romance. He was more of a woman than a man, hence it is easily under- 
 stood how a love sprang up between him and the famous George Sand, who was
 
 166 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 more of a man than a woman. Early in life he felt an attachment for a Polish 
 girl, whom he, however, forgot after he fell in love with George Sand. The poor 
 girl was true to him till her end, and, as she could not administer to his happi- 
 ness, she cared for Chopin's parents. It is difficult to say what was the attrac- 
 tion between him and the French lady with whom he lived for many years ; 
 neither can the story of their sad separation be told in this connection. 
 
 Weber was for a time warmly attached to an opera singer, Gretchen Lang, but, 
 had he married her, it would have proved an unfortunate alliance. Happily, he 
 met another musical lady, Carolina Brandt, whom he loved passionately. The 
 first-named lady, however, caused a great deal of trouble, for she had gained a 
 powerful influence over the composer. At last he met Miss Brandt for a second 
 time ; his former love was rekindled, and the two were married. She was a 
 noble woman, true to her husband and his art. He counseled with her; she 
 spurred him to continued activity ; and while she saw much happiness in life, she 
 also drank deeply of the cup of sorrow. She remained true to her ill-fated hus- 
 band, who died in a foreign land. 
 
 But I cannot cease telling love stories without at least mentioning Wagner, the 
 last of Germany's great musicians. He married early but unhappily. To his 
 credit it must be said, however, that he never revealed anything that might lessen 
 public esteem of his wife ; but we know that she failed to enter into his art aspi- 
 rations, and as the earlier life of Wagner was one of trouble and privation, her 
 surroundings were such that, without a full appreciation of her husband's mission, 
 she naturally became unhappy. She died in 1866. Four years later he married 
 the second time. Liszt's daughter, Cossoma, had been married to Billow the 
 pianist, but the two were not congenial. She sought a divorce, and then married 
 Wagner, with whom she lived happily till his death in 1883. She is a true, 
 high-minded woman, and was fully worthy of a place by the side of so great a 
 man. She understood him, exerted almost a magical influence over him ; she 
 inspired him in his work, and in every way made his life happy. 
 
 And now that I have shown woman's influence in musical art, let me urge you 
 to follow and to imitate the illustrious women whom I have mentioned. Take it 
 seriously with your art, for unless you are serious in your study of music, you 
 will fail to be benefited by it. Study only the pure and the good, and aim to be 
 worthy of so great an art. Study and teach with a singleness of purpose, always 
 aiming to make mankind better and happier. Join every good enterprise calcu- 
 lated to advance our art ; use it for the relief of the poor, for the enjoyment of 
 your friends, for the benefit of your own souls. Never abuse it ; ever be faithful 
 in your devotions, remembering, that though your name may never be mentioned 
 in a lecture or in a book, you should always feel a deep interest in woman's wel- 
 fare and elevation. Bear in mind that music and woman are closely allied in the 
 history of Christian civilization. Spread culture wherever you can and organize 
 musical societies wherever there is an opening for them. Though your life as a 
 teacher may be spent in a secluded spot, teach only the truth, bearing in mind 
 that God loves the art ; that He has given it to us for a wise and a noble purpose, 
 and that you are engaged in a work which is honorable and praiseworthy, and 
 that He will reward you and bless you according to your fidelity. These are 
 among the pleasant duties that fall to your lot. With you rests the future
 
 WOMAN IX MUSIC. 167 
 
 welfare of our art ; witli you rests a part at least of the civilization of your own 
 country and people. Sow good seeds and be hopeful of good fruit. Always 
 develop the religious side of your work, for in this particular woman can do much 
 good. Improve the music in church and Sabbath school, by lending your aid 
 ungrudgingly, wherever it is needed, and thus you will have the realizing sense 
 of having lived and labored for a good purpose. 
 
 With a quotation from an excellent German musical writer, I will close my 
 article. " There is no living soul so capable of enjoying and correctly judging of a 
 work of art, as a fairly cultivated woman, for her whole inner life is in itself a 
 work of art. Even the highest kind of men have something formless and unfin- 
 ished about their natures. The hasty demands of life do not stop to inquire 
 whether it be Sabbath or not ; they surprise men amid the worship of the beau- 
 tiful, and scarcely give them time to refrain from profanation of the altar. But 
 the life of woman, calm as a festival day, how full of harmony may it not, should 
 it not be? When the storm-bells of passion have rung out, then pure ether 
 remains behind, and in such minds the impression made by a work of art is correct 
 and immediate, for they are prepared to receive it, themselves serene and pure, 
 as bridal devotion."
 
 HARMONY. 
 
 When I speak of theory, I do not use the term in that offensive sense which 
 implies the impracticable as opposed to the sensible and useful. My object is not 
 to belittle theory, but to present it to you in such a light that you may be induced 
 to study it. Theory, in the common acceptation of the term, means an exposi- 
 tion of the general principles of an art or a science, and when viewing it in this 
 light, it follows that musical theory really embraces the whole science of music. 
 It touches upon acoustics, upon the laws of chords, upon the rules of composi- 
 tion, in fact, its field is immense. Many persons who endeavor to master this 
 science without a teacher, soon find themselves in the predicament of inexpe- 
 rienced travelers, who start out alone on a trip over the prairies or over a moun- 
 tain range. They seem to get along well, but presently they lose the trail ; they 
 find neither roads nor sign-posts ; they miss their reckonings, and before they are 
 aware of the fact, they are utterly lost. In dismay they retreat, and reaching 
 home at last, they warn every one against making any attempts at exploring such 
 a wild, rough country. Now, what is the real difficulty in the way of J 7 oung 
 students when exploring the fields of harmony ? "What is it that so quickly dis- 
 heartens those in search of theoretical information ? It is this ; students are 
 compelled to think and to work in another language, if it can indeed be said that 
 we think in any language. The signs and sounds used in this science are different 
 from those of the word language ; pupils find it at first difficult to apply them, 
 and in dismay they are heard to say that harmony is the most difficult study they 
 ever attempted to master. This, however, is only an illusion. It is no more true 
 than the assertion that music is all play and requires no brain-work. He who 
 meets the study of harmony in a friendly spirit, with a calm frame of mind, he 
 who takes time to study his problems, will eventually be forced to acknowledge 
 that all things connected with the study of music are beautiful, and that the 
 science of the art is just as attractive as the practice of it. 
 
 Theory is the science and the study of the laws requisite to combine tones so 
 as to produce harmony and melody. It combines the study of harmony and 
 musical composition ; it is the art of inventing correct melodies, and of supply- 
 ing them with good harmony. While the principles of acoustics underlie all 
 musical art, in this study we deal more with principles of experience and obser- 
 vation than with natural science. The study of the principles of acoustics never 
 leads to a musical art development. Students who dwell upon the single tone 
 rarely ever get beyond it. Some of the most learned nations, as, for instance, 
 the ancient Grecians, who studied the tone from its acoustic standpoint and not 
 from its artistic, had no art music. 
 
 There are those who view harmony only as the science of laws necessary for the 
 combination of chords ; on the other hand, some demand that it should also 
 
 168
 
 HARMONY. 169 
 
 explain the connection of the senses with the mind. The scholar who pursues 
 the study from the first standpoint exclusively, loses much of its sesthetic beauty, 
 and necessarily comes down to cold mathematical rules ; hence Marx, who was a 
 great authority, said that he would have nothing to do with purely mathematical 
 harmony lessons. Those, on the other hand, who follow the second course, are 
 often guilty of overshooting the mark, losing themselves in metaphysical specu- 
 lations that lead to no good. 
 
 Harmony, as the grammar of music, teaches the rules according to which tones 
 are combined into chords ; but it is not its mission to prove the effect of these 
 tone combinations upon the ear and the soul. Nothing is more difficult and decep- 
 tive than to speculate about our sensations and emotions. They play into each 
 other ; they are so mingled and mixed with each other that the most cautious 
 observer could not positively define them, and show where and how they begin, 
 as well as where and how they end. There is not in our hearts a single unmixed 
 emotion, for one feeling springing up quickly is apt to cause many others to arise. 
 In this play of sentiments, some of our emotions are intensified, others are weak- 
 ened or wiped away altogether. If the emotions are so uncertain and so difficult 
 to understand, why should we make it a part of harmony ? Why should we try to 
 lay down positive laws as to how they should be expressed, and that through the 
 tone, the least tangible material artists are called upon to use ? Yet there are 
 theorists who extend the range of this study into such speculations, endeavoring 
 to explore that mysterious domain of emotion in connection with chords and melo- 
 dies. A study which in itself is so deep and difficult to master is deserving of 
 the undivided attention of the best minds. 
 
 The study of harmony is old, though music as an art is young. The ancient 
 Grecians studied out the mathematical proportions of intervals by the aid of the 
 monochord, upon which they could lengthen and shorten a string. This result 
 led them to imagine that they had discovered infallible principles and formulas, 
 by means of which they could master and measure all combinations. This led 
 them to the consideration and study of the single tone, and for this reason they 
 were unable to build up an art such as we now have. The ancient Grecians 
 sought in the tone proportions and intervals the key to the study of the soul, and 
 thus music became to them the foundation of psychology. They sought in the 
 art an explanation of those contradictions that manifest themselves in the human 
 soul, hence ancient Grecian writers regarded music as the science of all sciences ; 
 it explained to them the heavens as well as the earth, the body as well as the 
 spirit. In music they sought to find what was the true nature of the human 
 soul, hence every Grecian scholar had to study the theory of the art, for, as has 
 already been said, it was to them the foundation of all learning. 
 
 This Grecian idea of music made its influence felt among Christian writers. 
 Only they sought to draw an analogy between religion and music, hence their 
 peculiar explanations and very strange speculations. Let me quote a few of the 
 principles pupils had to learn in those times. Many writers taught the lesson 
 that the triad or threefold chord is a confirmation of the doctrine of the Trinity. 
 The fourfold chord explained to them the four cardinal virtues. They specu- 
 lated upon the tetrachord in connection with the life of Christ ; one-half repre- 
 sented to them the Gospel of St. Matthew describing the humanity of Christ,
 
 170 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 while the other half showed the end of his life, the rending of the curtain in the 
 temple, the darkening of the sun, etc. The tetrachord of the higher tones repre- 
 sented Christ's resurrection, while the highest tones indicated the ascension. 
 The four tetrachords combined, in the opinion of some of the ancient theorists, 
 represented the four Gospels, while the two modes, the authentic and plagal, 
 were likened to a bridal pair. Arabo, an ancient writer, when speaking of these 
 modes, said that they reach into each other like two wheels, and thus he alludes 
 to the vision of Ezekiel. Manhettas, of Padua, compares music to a tree, the 
 branches of which are arranged in beautiful proportions, its flowers are sweet 
 chords, its fruit is harmony. Bernardus said, music of the universe is a grand 
 whole, which at the bidding of God puts everything into motion, it moves heaven 
 and earth. The octave is an emblem of justice, for the eighth tone was by the 
 ancients called Justice. The fourth refers to the four seasons, the four points 
 of the compass, the four Gospels, the four temperatures, and the four elements. 
 Muris saw in music a picture of the church, and said that it was great as a unit, 
 though divided into many parts. The same author compared the two tetra- 
 chords to Mary and Martha, while the two modes plagal and authentic repre- 
 sented love to God and love to our neighbor. The three tetrachords placed above 
 each other, he said, typify the three steps in repentance, they represent also the 
 three kinds of instrument used, wind, string and concussion. These three oc- 
 taves also represent the Christian graces, Faith, Hope and Charity, and last, 
 but not least, they represent the holy Trinity. Music, being written on four 
 lines, is an emblem of the four Gospels. Seven tones are in the scale, said a 
 writer, and so we have seven sacraments opening the heavens, while the seven 
 tones open the portals of music. 
 
 As late as 1702 Andreas Werkmeister, in his theory of music, advanced many 
 strange ideas, only a few of which I will here mention. Says he : " We read in 
 Scripture that God built the world harmoniously. Hence, it is that Noah's ark 
 had the best proportions imaginable, three hundred ells in length, fifty wide 
 and thirty high. When carrying these proportions to the monochord, says the 
 master, they give us the plain triad C. E. G. " The tabernacle, the temple, and 
 in fact all sacred buildings were erected on the strictest principles of harmony. 
 Should this be accidental, asks our author? Everywhere we see harmony and 
 order, and out of this all-wise system sprang music. This explains in a measure 
 why music is so pleasing to man, for it is an exhibition of God's wisdom and 
 order, and when these musical proportions reach the ear and through it the 
 heart, they cannot fail to touch us. Hence, Luther said, "that he, who does not 
 love music, has not a good heart, he is a rough block. Why do the people fail 
 to like music," asks our great Reformer? Simply because their souls are in a 
 disturbed condition, their nerves are not easily moved, their systems are not 
 built according to the rules of that eternal harmony and order which underlies 
 nature. 
 
 But this is enough of strange and idle speculations. After their unsoundness 
 had been shown and understood, the subject of harmony separated into two divi- 
 sions. The one followed up the metaphysical side of music and aimed to solve 
 the secret workings of the art ; the other depended upon physical principles exclu- 
 sively and sought through them to lay the foundation for our present system of
 
 HARMONY. 171 
 
 harmony. The first relied on uncertain speculations, the other depended upon 
 exact facts. 
 
 The ancient Grecian ideas were slow to pass away. Thus, even Kepler, the 
 astronomer, revived the ancient Pythagorean theory of a music of the spheres. 
 All Christendom then thought the whole secret of music had been discovered. He 
 also taught that our likes and dislikes for intervals must necessarily be more in- 
 stinctive than intelligent. Leibnitz, on the other hand, was of the opinion that 
 the soul unconsciously counts the vibrations of bodies. According to Euler, he 
 is the best critic who can turn the unknown countings into known ones. Kant, 
 Herder and Krause, however, are opposed to this theory. The latter day phi- 
 losophers have decided that while Leibnitz's theory is true, it only solves the first 
 riddle, the sensual influence of music. Helmholtz also advances an idea of this 
 kind. After explaining the unconsciousness of the perceptions of form and law, 
 he says : ' ' "We resemble the spirit which we comprehend. " If we feel the spirit- 
 ual powers that operated in the artist, powers which are far superior to our own 
 conscious thinking, we must acknowledge that an immense amount of tune, con- 
 templation and labor is required to produce, as well as to comprehend, the same 
 degree of order, connection, proportion and symmetry, which the artist establishes 
 unconsciously through tact and taste, and which by our own tact and taste we can 
 appreciate in an art-work. It is upon this fact that the appreciation of art and 
 art-works depends. We recognize in the first the Genius, that divine spark of 
 creative power, that goes beyond the lines of our own conscious thinking and 
 reasoning, that distinguishes the artist from common mortals. Nevertheless, 
 let us realize that the artist is but a man, as we are, and that we have the 
 same powers of mind as he has, those very powers which have helped to produce 
 the art-work ; if it were not so we could not understand his language and its 
 meaning. Herein lies the basis of the moral influence and the pleasant satisfac- 
 tion which, is produced by art-works. 
 
 Being a scientist, Helmholtz evidently lacks the courage or the ability to dive 
 into the psychological and metaphysical relations of music. The same is true of 
 all those that make acoustics a specialty. These higher investigations are left to 
 those who study out the aesthetic side of our art. Our study, therefore, has 
 nothing directly to do with the philosophical meaning and object of our art, yet 
 in our lessons, we are often called upon to touch on this very deep and broad sub- 
 ject. The main study, then, before us is that of chord combinations and of a 
 harmonic treatment of melodies. 
 
 The science of music, the study of harmony, is a progressive study. The 
 ancients knew nothing of harmony such as we use. When they sang with sev- 
 eral voices, they produced the same tune an octave lower or higher. The ancients, 
 therefore, did not deal with chords such as we use. They knew only melody, 
 hence their theory never goes beyond that of the modes (scales). Their musi- 
 cians, and especially their theorists, were divided into two schools, the Pythago- 
 rean and Aristoxenian. The former depended upon mathematical calculations 
 exclusively, the latter upon the ear. The Pythagorean proportions were accepted 
 throughout the Middle Ages, and even up to 1590, as were many other Grecian 
 theories and ideas. As we developed harmony in the modern sense, the Grecian 
 ideas would not hold out, and thus musicians were compelled to step upon the
 
 172 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 purely empiric field to determine the laws upon which, modern music was to be 
 built, and upon the basis of which it could develop throughout coming centuries 
 of progress. These rules once established, the art could and did develop. A 
 real system of chords did not exist until 1720. All harmony prior to that tune 
 was written from a contrapuntal standpoint, four voices running by the side of 
 each other, each carrying the melody. A true harmony is a system of laws upon 
 which all chords that occur in music may be written. It must be acknowledged 
 that the works of the last century are still the best authorities, though in many 
 respects they are antiquated, and can no longer be used. 
 
 In former times, scores or full harmonic accompaniments were rarely ever fully 
 written out. They gave the bass and added to it chord signatures, from which 
 musicians played. This short-hand writing is called thorough bass. To enable 
 a person to play from a thorough bass or figured bass, a complete knowledge of 
 harmony is required. This study I desire to commend as absolutely necessary for 
 a complete mastery of music. The time has come when no one will dare to pre- 
 tend to teach the art who has not mastered this science, and in the estimation 
 of musicians, no one, pupil nor teacher, amateur nor artist, should be without 
 thorough training in it. And now that I have commended it, the question, no 
 doubt, is asked : What are the advantages to be derived from this study ? The 
 study of harmony is for those who wish to understand and fully enjoy music, 
 vocal or instrumental, as well as for composers. It increases, manifold, both the 
 mental and the emotional pleasure of what one is hearing, if he knows the inner 
 meaning of what is performed, and this harmony reveals. But those who do not 
 understand harmony can only enjoy a surface gratification, even of the most com- 
 mon styles of music, and they are to a degree shut out from enjoying the grand 
 creations of the great masters. The lamp of harmony makes light and clear to 
 the mental vision the obscure passages, so that instead of a hazy mass of tone, 
 one sees a clear field of beautiful emotional thought The performer who does 
 not know the science of harmony is much like a person reciting a poem in a lan- 
 guage which he does not understand. No musical education is complete without 
 a working knowledge of this important branch. It enables the performer to put 
 both head and heart into his work, and that with a far greater intensity of expres- 
 sion. One cannot express that which he does not know. To thoroughly under- 
 stand a passage of music is the best possible help to overcome both its technical 
 and artistic difficulties. Gretry says, "Pearls do not float on the surface; they 
 must be sought for in the deep, and that often with danger. ' ' The performance 
 of an intelligent musician is always easily recognized. When hearing it, we are 
 conscious that the artist has solved the problem, that he has been in the deep 
 after the pearls. 
 
 Some of the direct and practical every-day uses of harmony are : It teaches 
 the student to estimate music more at its real value, so that he will think the 
 divine art something more than a mere fancy. It will help him to tell good from 
 poor music. His taste will be on a solid foundation, and not an indefinable emo- 
 tion. Music will be real to him, and not some ethereal thing dropped from the 
 clouds. It gives ability to correct misprints found in every piece of music, thus 
 saving the performer many a pitfall. It teaches scales and keys, an important 
 bit of knowledge, too often neglected, for the performer should know in what key
 
 HARMONY. 173 
 
 he is performing, and should recognize the modulations in his piece as he passes 
 them. The more we understand a piece, the better we enjoy it. It fosters con- 
 fidence and repose to know all about what one is playing. Harmony is an indis- 
 pensable help in reading and playing scales, chords and arpeggios ; it teaches how 
 to modulate from one key into another, and how to make interludes. "We all 
 more or less play church music, and harmony fully prepares us for it. It is a 
 great help in memorizing, for it classifies in groups what otherwise would be a 
 hopeless mass of notes. It is easier to commit what is understood, and, to classify 
 chords makes short work of a long subject, for music is made up of scales, chords, 
 Arpeggios, and these harmony teaches, so that we can recognize the common forms 
 at a glance. To the teacher of music it is a necessity, for he must be able to ex- 
 plain, and to give reasons for his opinions and statements, and surely he should 
 be able to talk about music in a common sense way. His opinions and judg- 
 ments will be sought by friends and pupils because of his theoretical knowledge, 
 his ready and correct answers, and thus he will increase his power, his reputation 
 and popularity. A teacher of music cannot maintain a position in the profession 
 without a working knowledge of his subject, for he must be able to teach it to his 
 pupils, and here comes in the direct money value of his knowledge. Harmony 
 is a great aid in helping us to accompany the voice in song. It enables one to 
 transpose pieces to other and more desirable keys, and this is often indispensable 
 to a singer or accompanist. Not the least of its advantages is the continual use 
 one is obliged to make of harmony in the use of the pedals, and to use them cor- 
 rectly in a higher grade of music, the knowledge of harmony is indispensably 
 necessary. In order that we may sing or play intelligently, whether as teacher 
 or pupil, the study of harmony is needed. Whether you will become composers 
 or not, it is a delight to any musician to note down his ideas. The skill to do 
 this you acquire in the study of musical composition, and the knowledge of the 
 forms and rules that underlie a tone poem, again enables you to better perform 
 the works of the masters. Moreover no one can learn to improvise in correct 
 style without a thorough knowledge of both harmony and composition. In fact 
 the mastery of these branches makes you a skillful musician, a master in your 
 art as player and as teacher. Of course, studying harmony and composition will 
 not impart to you the gift of authorship, for that is inborn, but it enables you to 
 develop and to use what gifts you may possess, and many students, after study- 
 ing these branches, discovered greater talents than they supposed they possessed. 
 At any rate you may accept it as a fact, that in these days of musical progress 
 you cannot dispense, as teachers, with a knowledge of these two branches. 
 
 The rules of harmony and composition are deduced from the best works of the 
 masters, and as the art advances, new laws must necessarily be established. A 
 Wagner or a Liszt could not confine himself to those rules which we derived 
 from the works of a Mozart., a Haydn, or a Bach, but the rules which these 
 masters have laid down will be as binding upon the student of the future as they 
 were binding upon these masters themselves. The modern composers have 
 stepped over the boundaries of the past, and their works must be viewed in that 
 light. 
 
 Practice must always precede theory. We do not lay down rules unless they 
 have established their right to existence through practical demonstration in works
 
 174 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 of art. By far too many students are satisfied with mere practice, with mere 
 technical production, but of intelligent musicians we make greater demands. A 
 knowledge of theory is an indication of a higher education. It is not expected 
 that you as teachers should be composers, but it is expected of you that you 
 should be art teachers, and this implies a mastery of harmony and composition. 
 If you lack the gifts of composition cultivate your powers as far as you can. By 
 doing this, no one will dare to blame you for a lack of knowledge. 
 
 It is an old saying, that knowledge is power, and this is especially applicable 
 to the study of harmony, for it gives power to the pianist. I hardly need to tell 
 you that it is a comfort to the teacher to see students strive to acquire this power, 
 hence there is no more important, and to me more interesting, class than the 
 harmony class. A pianist without a thorough knowledge of harmony is, and 
 always must be powerless. A little knowledge may be dangerous, but a little 
 harmony helps a musician wonderfully. If you cannot study it for one or two 
 years, study it as long as you can, get a little of it, for this is better than no 
 knowledge at all. I am sure when you have acquired the little spoken of, you 
 will desire more. When you once begin to enjoy the freedom which harmony 
 affords you (for every pianist without this knowledge is handicapped), you are 
 sure to cry for more liberty. A pianist cannot know too much, he cannot equip 
 himself too well. The teacher without harmony is as a hoodwinked guide, he is 
 helpless, he is sure to stumble and fall. He is shorn of power, hence he cannot 
 impart it, he cannot educate pupils to that standard of freedom which alone 
 affords true pleasure in art. 
 
 And now a few practical hints. It is absolutely necessary that you should 
 advance slowly in these studies. Rapid work never amounts to much. The 
 smaller and the more condensed the text-book is, the slower should our progress 
 be, as viewed merely from the standard of pages to be read. As in geometry, in 
 algebra, in logic, etc., the whole ground must be carefully gone over and 
 thoroughly studied. It will not do to pick out certain lessons and neglect others ; 
 on the contrary, every lesson is of importance, every lesson must be mastered, else 
 the results are defective. There are teachers who promise to take you over the 
 entire field of harmony in a few lessons, but I frankly confess my inability to do 
 this. A person may tell much in the course of a few weeks, but telling is not 
 teaching. 
 
 But say some, "In the study of theory we enter too much into the mental and 
 too little into tke emotional nature of music, thereby losing its true enjoyment" 
 This is as untrue and unsound as it would be to say that he who studies art, 
 ceases to enjoy flowers or landscapes, or he who measures the stars and marks 
 their course, will no longer enjoy the stany heavens in all their beauty. If the 
 practical part of the art gives you so much pleasure, how much more delight 
 would it afford you, were you to know its principles more fully. What if theory 
 appeals preeminently to the mind, does it follow that there is no beauty in the 
 study? Is there no beauty in mathematics, in geometry and trigonometry? 
 Surely there is. 
 
 The rules of harmony are very simple and comparatively few. We have not 
 many chords nor are there many inversions. We have only two, the major and 
 minor modes, we have only the triad and fourfold chords, and their derivatives,
 
 HARMONY. 175 
 
 and out of this simple material the grandest symphonies are built. Great intel- 
 lect, of course, is needed to produce such works, but the intellect alone would 
 accomplish nothing; the heart power, the inspiration is also needed. This is the 
 power that leads man, as in a state of clairvoyance, to find those hidden paths, 
 those mysteries of the art which the pure intellect, the reasoning faculties would 
 never discover. Yet great as this power is, being divine in its origin, it must 
 conform to law, to the rules of the beautiful. But say some pupils, these laws 
 are oppressive, they hinder me in my work, they obstruct my path on every side, 
 hence I am opposed to them. The same objections are raised by the evil doers 
 against the common law of the country. Its authority obstructs their course on 
 every side and for this reason they dislike it. The law does not impair or injure 
 the rights of the good citizen ; he is free under the law, for he chooses the good 
 in preference to the evil. So he who has mastered the laws of harmony and 
 composition feels not their restrictions ; he is a free musician, for having studied 
 the laws and forms, he knows and appreciates their force and value and cheer- 
 fully submits to them. He is a free man under the law. To rebel, therefore. 
 against musical rules is an indication of evil inclinations, of improper musical con- 
 duct, and surely of ignorance. This opposition to the study of harmony should 
 be the strongest reason why such students should at once commence to study it. 
 
 Have I succeeded in showing the advantages of this study ? If so, do not you 
 who mean to be thorough with your work, think you ought to devote the neces- 
 sary time and labor to master it ?
 
 THE IMAGINATION. 
 
 The imagination is of such great value to the musician, not only in the capacity 
 of composer, but in that of a player and singer, that it is a proper subject for 
 our consideration. The imagination is that mental power which combines, cre- 
 ates and pictures ; it enables us to produce new forms, new situations, and that 
 without the aid of the senses. This, no doubt, is a defective definition, but it 
 is almost impossible to define in one or two sentences such an abstract term, and 
 it is especially difficult in view of the fact that this faculty is so varied in its rela- 
 tions and manifestations. When viewing it, however, in its relations to the arts 
 alone, we have come close enough to its meaning to satisfy us. The imagination 
 is that power which has created using the term in a finite sense all the great 
 works in the domain of art, from the ancient times down to the present. 
 
 The imagination should be viewed in a twofold sense, once as a productive, and 
 again as a reproductive faculty. The productive faculty is the higher of the two ; 
 it is the great power which distinguishes men of genius. The reproductive fac- 
 ulty is somewhat alh'ed to memory, and it is exceedingly difficult to draw the line 
 which divides them. The imagination is usually most vivid in youth, which is 
 full of fancy pictures of the future. Young people often live in a fairyland ; 
 they dwell in air castles ; they see everything in a halo of glory ; the sun is 
 golden, the flowers speak poetry, the rivulet sings, all nature speaks with a pow- 
 erful voice to their imaginations. All events of youthful life are invested with a 
 halo of imagination, and when we leave home and wander in strange lands, 
 memory is aided by the imagination, and what seemed once very prosaic is now 
 certain to be painted in poetic colors. Distance lends enchantment. It is the 
 power of the imagination that draws men back to their old homes, even after 
 many years of absence. The fancy pictures painted by youthful perceptions, and 
 intensified by an ever active imagination, act as a magnet ; they produce a long- 
 ing that is almost irresistible. Alas ? very frequently the reality proves that 
 the imagination is guilty of exaggeration, is guilty of lying, and thus the spell 
 is broken; the wanderer wonders how he could ever have experienced such 
 foolish longings, and the realistic picture having taken the place of the idealistic, 
 he turns away disenchanted and saddened. The same process occurs in life almost 
 every day. Dreamy, imaginative youth sees a fairyland before it, but gradually 
 and slowly the lesson is pressed upon the mind that the dreams of youth were 
 mere fancy pictures, and that life is real, stern and often even cruel. Still, we 
 love to turn back to youth as the ever-flowing fountain of joy and pleasure, and 
 that simply for the reason that we cannot recall it, but we can bring before our 
 minds the picture of our youth and our childhood home. But if we could see 
 them as they really were, we would soon be disenchanted. Look at our own past. 
 When reviewing life, we believe the past to have been happier than the present. 
 
 176
 
 T1I IMAGINATION. 
 
 The older we become, the weaker is memory and the stronger becomes the imagi- 
 nation in drawing fancy pictures of youth and home. Imagination little by little 
 wipes away all unpleasant recollections, and casts a perfect halo over the scenes 
 that were pleasant. 
 
 The creative power creates that which had no existence ; the reproductive power 
 brings before our minds scenes and situations which have already made an impres- 
 sion upon us, and it is this faculty which is of great aid to the pianist and singer, 
 who are reproducing what the composer has created. Three qualities are required 
 in order that the imagination may successfully perform its mission, namely, expe- 
 rience or observation, correct taste, and a good amount of enthusiasm. Experience 
 and observation, because by it, we store our mind with pictures, scenes or situa- 
 tions ; good taste enables us to choose only that which is good and pure ; and 
 enthusiasm, because without it the artist is unable to clothe his forms and visions 
 with life, without it he fails to arouse observation and sentiment in others, with- 
 out it his work will, in short, be lifeless. It is a fine question to decide which 
 really is the art-work, the printed copy, or the performance of the same. It is a 
 disputed question whether the musician in his performances should simply give 
 the art- work as he conceives it to have come from the composer's mind, or whether 
 he may be allowed to put upon it the impress of his own imagination. 
 
 Without wishing to enter into a discussion which is foreign to our subject, it 
 may be said that the imagination is not the divine spark, yet it is no doubt one 
 of the highest faculties of the human mind. The creative and the reproductive 
 powers spring from the same source, they are much the same faculty, but of 
 different degrees. 
 
 All intelligent persons are endowed with more or less imaginative powers. 
 While only the few produce or create, all may reproduce situations and sentiments. 
 Those who are permitted to open to us new scenes, to call forth new sentiments, 
 are, as has been stated, our men of genius, they are the favored ones who may 
 walk in and out at pleasure, among the gods on Parnassus Hill. But does not 
 the inventor also produce that which is new ? Certainly ; but he does not work 
 through the imagination. He employs reason, he starts out with certain tangible 
 facts, he relies upon the laws of nature, he uses the unerring rules of mathe- 
 matics and geometry, as well as the discoveries already made in the fields of science. 
 The artist, however, fashions his work in a different workshop of the brain. 
 Look at the Symphonies and Sonatas by Beethoven ! Where did the artist 
 fashion these lovely productions if not in his imagination? All of you have 
 read Shakespeare's "Midsummer Night's Dream;" from whence than his 
 fruitful imagination could such a production have sprung ? It may therefore be 
 said, that the works of the useful arts are the products of reason, while those of 
 the fine arts are the products of the imagination. They are truly created, as far 
 as mortal man can create. Carl Maria von Weber said, "Grod allows man to 
 create, so that through his creative activity he may show forth his divine origin." 
 The imagination first fashions, then produces. Next, memory retains and impresses 
 upon the mind these productions. After this, and not until then, does reason 
 discharge its functions, by sitting in judgment over the work of the imagination, 
 applying the laws of harmony, composition and aesthetics. The study of these 
 branches is therefore an absolute necessity, even to him who is gifted with the 
 12
 
 178 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 most powerful imagination. He who lacks education, but has imagination, gener- 
 ally produces ill-shaped, defective works. Without education, without the rules 
 of science, the most imaginative person is helpless, as helpless as he who has mas- 
 tered all the laws of composition, but lacks the power of imagination. We must 
 study the works of the masters in order to learn from them, as well as to awaken 
 within us and to properly direct, the powers of our own imaginations. There 
 are, however, some gifted with productive powers who abstain purposely from 
 coming in contact with master minds, for fear their originality might be de- 
 stroyed. Usually they are those who have but limited powers, and the children 
 of their imagination are always hollow-eyed, hump-backed, bow-legged and what- 
 not else. Such originality surely is not creditable. Again, there are students 
 who rebel against rules and laws, because they are restrictive, and in their estima- 
 tion altogether too oppressive. The educated artist is as little fettered by the 
 laws of his art as the law-abiding citizen is oppressed by the laws of his country. 
 In order to make the operation of the imagination, in its relations to scientific 
 musical laws, plain to you, let me say, that the imagination is to the artist what 
 the sails are to the ship ; they are the propelling power. His reason, applying 
 the laws, is the rudder that steers the ship safely, the power that gives correct 
 shape to his ideas. The imagination usually is set to work through sentiment, 
 and when it is at work, the artist must be regarded as a sort of an involuntary 
 actor. If the artist is gifted with great productive powers, if he is an educated 
 man well drilled in the theory and practice of his art, if his emotions are pure 
 and his aspirations noble, he will produce great works, but if any of these faculties 
 be defective this defect is sure to be noticeable in his work. No matter how 
 great the works are which the imagination has produced, this fact must always 
 be borne in mind, that there is nothing perfect under the sun, nothing perfect 
 can come from the human mind or hand. 
 
 It has been said that the useful arts are the product of reason and not of the 
 imagination. Scientists often apply themselves so closely to their studies that 
 the faculties of the imagination cease to operate freely. Dealing constantly with 
 facts, they fail to cultivate the fancy, they neglect to give sway to the imagina- 
 tion. Having found it to be an untrustworthy faculty as regards their peculiar 
 work, they have checked it whenever it showed signs of growing. This explains 
 why scientists so often fail to grasp the true meaning of art, this explains why 
 some of them have such a low view of it. From this it is plain, that scientists 
 rarely ever become artists, while the artist would prove a miserable failure as a 
 scientist. The one is exact to the minutest details, the other is a dreamer, he 
 soars aloft, is at liberty to fashion the creatures of his imagination as he pleases. 
 It is for this reason that mathematics and music are regarded antagonistic. Yet 
 this need not be the case. Mozart, the great musician, whose imagination has 
 created wondrous works, was exceedingly fond of solving mathematical problems, 
 while the great Herschel, he who calculated the motion of the heavenly bodies 
 with unerring certainty, started his life's career as a G-erman band master. 
 
 The imagination always aims at something beyond the real, something without 
 the world, and when it is at work, the artist dwells in an atmosphere foreign to 
 real life. The affairs of this world then lose all interest to him ; he is, as it were, 
 spellbound, he is under art influences, and he looks at the pictures of his fancy
 
 THE IMAGINATION. 179 
 
 as they appear in his imagination, just as men look at beautiful pictures. It is 
 not surprising that at such an hour artists love to be alone, for they fear the 
 intruder would disturb them and stop the work of their minds. Everything 
 foreign to their mental and aesthetic existence is distasteful then. This spell is 
 so powerful that men yield to it in the face of great privations ; they deny them- 
 selves every creature comfort, in order to gratify their inclinations. The average 
 man, however, laughs at all this ; he calls the man thus under the influence of 
 his imagination, a fool, a worthless fellow, lacking common sense, a man with a 
 hobby, a man with one idea. Wagner said that a composer, when at work, is in 
 a state of clairvoyance ; the same should be true with regard to players, but to a 
 less degree. When playing or singing good music we should be beyond the 
 present, our imagination should be active, it should aid us in the performance of 
 music. The musician must thus quickly turn from one picture of fancy to 
 another ; his whole self must be concentrated in what he sees or does ; the world 
 outside is, so to speak, dead to him. This concentration of self on one subject, 
 this changing from one scene to another, explains the changeableness and moods 
 of artists. Seeing an object of sorrow, they suffer intensely, while the next 
 moment their tears may be changed into smiles ; a pleasant object, like a 
 sorrowful one, completely and quickly fills their souls and shapes their heart's 
 emotions. 
 
 When I am about to perform music, I endeavor to concentrate my whole 
 self upon what I am to play. If I am to perform a funeral march, I first strive 
 to enter the house of mourning. There I see the dead one lying in his coffin, I 
 see the floral offerings, and methinks I can smell the very tuberoses. I see be- 
 fore me the family of the deceased, with pain and sorrow depicted upon their 
 faces, yes, I hear from time to time the moans and sobs which irresistibly escape 
 their lips, breaking the monotonous and painful silence that pervades the death 
 chamber. I hear the word of God read, I listen to the hymn of consolation, I 
 see them close the coffin after the family have taken the last, sad glance, I see 
 them carry the body out, I hear the creak of the hearse door, and a cold chill runs 
 over me, as, in my imagination, I hear that terrible noise produced by placing the 
 coffin within. I see the people standing on the pavement looking at each other 
 with sorrowing faces, I hear the bells toll, I see the procession start, and thus I 
 prepare myself to play a funeral march. When I hear that tender Aria from the 
 Messiah, "He was despised and rejected," I see my Saviour's suffering face as 
 he stands before Pilate, or as he is spat upon, mocked and struck by the rude 
 hands of the soldiers. I see his forehead bleeding from the thorny crown, matting 
 his hair, and staining his lovely face. A voice says "Ecce homo." The master's 
 loving eyes look at me, and when I play the accompaniment, where the instru- 
 ment moans and sobs, as it were, I often shed tears at the sorrowful sight before 
 me. Then, when the song is ended, I feel a sense of contrition and sorrow, I 
 hardly dare to speak aloud, I see my own waywardness that has brought all this 
 suffering of sorrow and grief on this man. Oh ! what a power is there in such 
 a song, how it lifts us up and brings us nearer to God. Handel said, that when 
 he wrote the Hallelujah chorus, he thought he saw the heavens open and the 
 angels singing around the throne. So when I hear this strain, I stand on Cal- 
 vary and I look up at the cross, and confess my own guilt, my lack of love.
 
 180 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 When I hear a strain from the immortal Beethoven, I wander to that master's 
 home, I see him dejected and suffering, I hear him complain of the hardness of 
 this world, I hear him bemoan his deafness, I see him as a caged lion shut out 
 from the world, and sadly I sit down by his side, and with awe and fear I listen 
 to what he has to tell me. When I hear some of his strains I imagine him to be 
 a Jupiter ; then again his strains impress me as would the appearance of the 
 ghost in Hamlet. Suffice it to say that my imagination is never idle, when play- 
 ing this master's wonderful strains. 
 
 But listen to plain, simple " Home, Sweet Home. " How natural it is for the 
 mind to turn to the one spot dear to the heart. Oh ! yes, I see the old home- 
 stead with the memorable apple tree before it ; I see the flower-garden, so tenderly 
 cared for by my father. I see the old rooms, with their quaint finish. Yonder sits 
 father, while in the huge arm-chair rests dear, good mother, the crucifix by her 
 side and the prayer book in hand. Alas, neither are living, neither of them shall 
 I ever see again here on earth. And so I turn away from the spot linked only to 
 memory, and come to my new home in free America, where all the home ties 
 that bind men, bind me. Then I often think of those whose homes have been 
 destroyed, of those that have no homes, of the outcasts, of the poor orphans, and 
 my heart rises in gratitude because 1 am so richly blessed. And while thus my im- 
 agination is active, I also think of the truth, that our real home is in heaven above. 
 
 There is an air by Mozart, called "Non piu andrai." It occurs in the opera 
 Figaro, in which a girlish-looking page, Cherubino, is caught in his tricks and 
 wiles. He had been guilty of flirting with the ladies of the court, yes, even with 
 the countess herself. At last he is discovered in the act, and his master takes 
 him to account. 
 
 The page is a delicate boy of sixteen, with golden hair, and is clothed in silks 
 and satins. The Count is a burly fellow and wears big boots and spurs, a sword, 
 a big slouch hat, he has a long grizzly beard, a terrible voice and an awful look. 
 He takes the boy to task, gives him a round scolding, tells him he has long enough 
 turned the house upside down, has lived long enough in clover, that now he has 
 to put on a military hat, wear a mustache, learn to smoke tobacco, go to war where 
 cannons are fired and men are killed. All the while he shakes his finger at the page, 
 who stands before him in great penitence, but as every now and then the Count steps 
 forward in his excitement, as a soldier naturally would, the page becomes alarmed 
 and steps back, and thus they are measuring the whole stage. The Count becomes 
 at times sarcastic, talking about the sweet ringlets, and the fine sight Cherubino 
 will cut when once in the army, but throughout the piece a commanding military 
 tone is heard ; here and there the effect is heightened by the sound of the bugle, 
 while the whole has the character of a military march. All these scenes I see 
 while listening to "None piu Adrai," and while hearing it I imagine myself 
 sometimes to be the Count, sometimes I am poor Cherubino, and sometimes I 
 am a spectator, and as I see the young scamp at last caught and frightened almost 
 to death, I cannot help laughing at the ludicrous sight, and often do so while 
 playing the accompaniment. At first reading the words of this song, they appear 
 as nonsense, but when the whole picture is put together it is comical. Said a 
 lady to me, "Why do you always smile when I sing this song? " " Oh," said I, 
 " I laughed at what I saw, I laughed at poor Cherubino in his plight."
 
 THE IMAGINATION. 181 
 
 But let us turn from the opera and listen to America's sweetest song, "The 
 Old Folks at Home. ' ' Though a negro song, it is worthy of a place in the port- 
 folio of the best artist. I have seen slavery in its palmiest days, just before the 
 war. I have lived in good old Virginia, where I saw some of the woes of the 
 colored people, and when I used to sit upon the veranda of my southern home 
 on a cool evening, and listened to the colored men singing " Hard Times Come 
 Again no More," or "Old Kentucky Home," or "Old Folks at Home," I 
 sighed and said, "0 (rod, how long will all this last? " I have lived and moved 
 among colored people, I know them and their sufferings, and I can understand 
 them when they sing : 
 
 " Way down the Swannee river, 
 
 Far, far away, 
 
 Dere is where my heart is turning, 
 Dere's wha' the old folks stay. 
 All up and down the creation, 
 
 Sadly I roam, 
 
 Still longing for the old plantation 
 And the old folks at home. 
 All de world am sad an dreary, 
 
 Ebrywhere I roam, 
 
 Oh, darkies, how my heart grows weary, 
 Far from the old folks at home. 
 
 " All around the farm I've wandered 
 
 When I was young, 
 Then many happy days I squandered, 
 
 Many a song I sung. 
 When I was playing with my brother, 
 
 Happy was I ; 
 
 Oh, take me to my kind old mother, 
 Dere let me live and die. 
 Refrain. 
 
 " One little hut among the bushes, 
 
 One that I love, 
 Still sadly to my mem'ry rushes, 
 
 No matter where I rove. 
 When will I see the bees a-humming, 
 
 All around the comb, 
 When will I hear the banjo strumming, 
 Down in my good old home. 
 All de world am sad an dreary, 
 
 Ebrywhere I roam, 
 
 Oh, darkies, how my heart grows weary, 
 Far from the old folks at home." 
 
 Plain though this song may be, it is full of tenderness ; it displays Stephen 
 Foster's loving heart and his vivid imagination. Southern planters claimed that
 
 182 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 this song was not second to "Uncle Tom's Cabin" in behalf of emancipation. 
 Everybody in this broad land knew, and knows now, Foster's immortal melody, 
 which is more than can be said of Mrs. Beecher Stowe's novel, great as its circu- 
 lation was. This song always touched me deeply ; it called forth my sympathies 
 for the poor slaves, and it finally led me to go to old Virginia, to see and to study 
 the institution for myself. Imagine, then, a quiet summer evening in Virginia ; 
 let us seat ourselves on the spacious veranda of a planter's mansion. Listen! 
 from afar you hear the sweet melody appealing to your sympathy. 
 
 Among Mendelssohn's beautiful songs without words, there are several called 
 Venetian Gondola Songs. Let us listen to one of these ; but we must take a trip 
 to sunny Italy. Let us go to Venice, with her palaces, her great churches, her 
 watery streets, on which the gondolas or boats glide silently, carrying their 
 living freight They are long black boats, unsightly, but for all comfortable. 
 The men who row them belong to an uneducated class, but, despite this fact, 
 they, like all their countrymen, are singers, and often players of the man- 
 dolin and other instruments. Mendelssohn, who traveled in Italy, was no 
 doubt impressed with the beauty of Venice, and in his fancy he produced 
 these charming tone poems alluded to, calling them Gondola Songs. Thus, 
 when I play one of them my mind goes to sunny Italy, and in my imagination 
 I see Venice, with her streets of water and her beautiful blue sky. I hear 
 the music of the boatmen, and whether my fancy-picture is correct or not it 
 serves my purpose, it enables me to play and to enjoy the little tone poems to 
 a higher degree. Listen to it, hear its passionate yet tender melody, and notice 
 how, as the boat has passed away in the distance and the song is no longer heard, 
 there is a spell left behind that holds you as in a dream ; and after the little strain 
 is ended, I sometimes sit spellbound and listen, as if I could still hear the gentle 
 strain that has vanished so softly. 
 
 I have a little slumber song which I love dearly. Before I'play it I often go to 
 a quiet country home. There, on the rustic old porch, the mother has seated 
 herself with her needlework ; by her side stands a cradle, wherein lies her little 
 treasure, about to take its afternoon nap. Oh, I can fairly feel the stillness of 
 the day ; I see the glorious sunlight as it falls on the thick vines that surround 
 the porch, letting in enough light to throw the strangest and the most artistic 
 forms of shadow upon the floor and wall. I hear the hum of the insects, I hear 
 the distant voice of the ploughman, I hear the tinkle of the cow bell, and while 
 the mother rocks the cradle she sings this sweet little air, called the slumber 
 song. Listen to the accompaniment with its rocking, and then hear the sweet 
 melody as it finally dies away, when the baby is asleep. 
 
 Only one more fancy picture I will bring before you and I shall pass on with 
 my subject. Annie Laurie ! What a charm there is connected with this tender 
 love song. It may justly be called the world's love song, and, with his usual 
 correct perceptions, Bayard Taylor, when speaking of the camp before Sebastopol, 
 said, 
 
 " They sang of love and not of fame ; 
 
 Forgot was Britain's glory ; 
 Each heart recalled a different name, 
 But all sang Annie Laurie."
 
 THE IMAGINATION. 183 
 
 When I hear this song I wander to the bonnie banks of Maxwelton, and there 
 among the green grasses studded with the Scotch heather and the thistle, I see 
 Douglas of Finnland, Annie Laurie's lover, wandering along casting shy glances 
 at the windows of Annie's castle home. Alas, he never was permitted to lead 
 to the altar the girl, whom he called the fairest that ever the sun shone on. 
 She was given to another, and there is nothing left of their love here on earth 
 except this song. Two hundred years have passed ; thousands have died around 
 the banks of Maxwelton ; many monuments and graves have been obliterated, 
 but Annie Laurie and Douglas of Finnland are still remembered, and their true 
 love will reecho in human hearts as long as the fires of love's passion burn. 
 
 From the foregoing you see that the true musician, when singing or playing, 
 is out of the body ; he roams in a land of fancy. This explains why musicians 
 do not like to be disturbed by talking or walking while performing music, for not 
 only does it indicate a lack of attention, but it destroys the spell. This also 
 explains why, under certain circumstances, musicians are justified in refusing to 
 play. Who would wish to perform any of the pieces given you before a talka- 
 tive, noisy company ? Having been at a funeral, having been with Beethoven, 
 having seen the Saviour in his suffering, having tasted Mozart and listened to 
 Mendelssohn, how could I now play a waltz, or how could I play any trifling 
 composition? On the other hand, if I am in merry company, how could I 
 attempt to play a dirge or a funeral march? Artists prefer to play before 
 musicians, for there generally is sympathy and mutual appreciation, while it is 
 often difficult to produce the same effect among the masses. 
 
 From the foregoing, you can also see the good that flows from pure music, if 
 you will but rightly use that which is good. Oh, how often have I talked of 
 these things, and how slow is the process of making lasting impressions, how 
 slow is the work of awakening the imagination. 
 
 Let me beg you not to use poor music, not to abuse that which is good. Do 
 not lower the art to the position of a mere plaything, to mere show-work. Seek 
 the truth always and when you have found it, then prize it as a rich jewel. I 
 would not have you understand that I have always such positive pictures before 
 me as I have described ; often we must be content with the awakening of pure 
 sentiment, but pure sentiment in the course of time also leads to pure thoughts. 
 The imagination of many pupils is too inactive, their emotions are too slow, they 
 hear merely pretty sounds of music, they live yet in the state of infancy in art- 
 life; had they the technique of a Liszt, they would produce merely sounds. But 
 if the imagination is active, if sentiment is readily aroused, then simple music 
 is just as much art music as the more difficult. Says Schumann, " If you listen 
 at the doors of musicians, you may hear plain things well played. " The average 
 pupil, however, always aims at show first and at sentiment next. Let me ask 
 you to reverse the order. Play a little thing well and you do more than by play- 
 ing a most brilliant piece without sentiment 
 
 And now by way of a close let me refer to a hymn tune written by Martin 
 Luther. It always overpowers me, and I never play it without being deeply im- 
 pressed. In my mind I turn to the reformer ; I see him in distress ; there are 
 many who assail him, many who endeavor to undermine his work. He feels the 
 terrible responsibility that is resting upon him, he feels his own weakness, he
 
 184 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 falls on his knees, in humility he prays to God for help. He pours out his in- 
 most thoughts, he draws very near to his God, and with sobs and cries he says, 
 "Save, Lord, bless and aid us, oh Lord, else all must go to ruin." All this I 
 hear in this hymn tune, and the simple playing of it is to my heart a prayer, an 
 act of worship. And thus you see how through music, even without words, we 
 may sincerely pray. 
 
 By coming in contact with good music we are always elevated and refined, our 
 imaginations are quickened, they are turned toward noble objects, our emotions 
 are purified, love and sympathy are aroused ; and let us not be unmindful of the 
 fact that love and sympathy are virtues which religion teaches. To raise you to 
 a higher sphere in art should be the object of a musical education ; the power to 
 play and sing are merely the means, and should never be regarded as the end. 
 
 Bear in mind that if you neglect the cultivation of the imagination, you neglect one 
 of the very first elements necessary for the artist. Musicians should cultivate this 
 faculty ; they should not only study the music, but they should also learn to know 
 its place in history ; they should study the lives of the composers, all of which is 
 calculated to give them keys to its fuller meaning ; all this will enable the student 
 to better understand an art-work. He who merely plays the tones of a sonata by 
 Beethoven, he who fails to reproduce the inner meaning, fails in everything ; his 
 performance is as powerless and as meaningless as are the oft repeated prayers of 
 mere religious formalists. Of course the imagination requires much culture and 
 much care. It needs training from earliest childhood. Children have imagina- 
 tions. The boy rides in cars made of chairs, or he builds houses with blocks, etc. 
 The little girl plays with her dolls as if they were living children. A child's 
 pleasures are largely dependent upon its imagination, and the same is true of 
 grown people. Said an educator, "When a little child is asked in a school how 
 many pints make a quart, it is often difficult for it to give quickly a correct answer. 
 But let that little child in its imagination go with its pail to the store or the milk- 
 wagon, and it instantly knows that two pints make a quart." It would seem that 
 a power like this would receive the attention of educators ; alas ! many parents 
 and teachers fail to comprehend the significance of this gift. They view it usually 
 as a dangerous faculty, and no doubt such it can become by neglect or by false 
 training. Our public schools aim too much at the cultivation of the reasoning 
 powers and the development of memory, neglecting the imagination. Children 
 are constantly called upon to imagine this or that, yet nothing is done to develop 
 this faculty. There is no study in which it does not come into use. In professional 
 life, others besides the artist need this power in order to be successful. The lawyer 
 needs it, the editor needs it, and that minister of the gospel who can see the very 
 heavens open before him, the minister who can soar to heights above, he is, all 
 things being equal, also the most effective preacher. Yet it is only lately that the 
 imagination receives any attention in our public schools. Many teachers, as well 
 as parents, strive to exclude everything calculated to arouse this faculty ; they 
 strive to turn the child's mind too exclusively to practical things. This no doubt 
 is the tendency of our age, and hence that of education. 
 
 The imagination is most active in youth ; when riper years come, reason assumes 
 control and men become critics, and cease to be poets. Still there are many 
 instances on record showing that the imagination need not necessarily weaken
 
 THE IMAGINATION. 185 
 
 with years. Xenophon wrote when 92 years of age. jEschylus wrote his best 
 works in his 66th year. Sophocles wrote his (Edipus when 99 years of age. 
 Michael Angelo painted his celebrated picture, "The Judgment," which 
 displays the most wonderful flight of imagination, between his 60th and 70th 
 year. So there are musicians who wrote their best works in advanced life. The 
 imagination of these great men worked quickly, hence they were able to produce 
 great works, and these are distinguished for their roundness and completeness, 
 while slow working imaginations often produce mere patchwork. No faculty of 
 the mind is more liable to go astray, and produce misery, than the imagination. 
 It needs careful training, lest it descend into the fanciful and the incongruous. 
 Of people who are afflicted in this manner we say that the wings of their imagina- 
 tion are too large for the tails of their judgment. They are people who imagine 
 themselves sick or socially slighted on every occasion ; people who imagine their 
 enemies to be constantly endeavoring to do them harm. Of course they are 
 miserable, and their sickly imagination is the cause of it. They constantly expect 
 misery and want, and being in a state of torment, they make others miserable. 
 Then there are those whose musical imagination is so vivid that they almost hear 
 the grass grow while listening to Haydn's Creation. A certain musically inclined 
 lady, living in London, went to one of Paganini's rehearsals, preceding a concert. 
 Having failed to bring his instrument along, he borrowed one from a member of 
 the orchestra, and, instead of playing, made merely a sort of a pizzicato, indi- 
 cating the time in which he would play the piece. After the rehearsal this lady 
 addressed Mr. Cook, the leader of the orchestra, saying, "Oh dear, Mr. Cook, 
 what a wonderful man this Paganini is ; I declare, that until this morning I abso- 
 lutely knew nothing about music, I never knew what it is capable of. " " Indeed, 
 said Mr. Cook, " music is a great art, but allow me to say, that you are indebted 
 to your imagination for this pleasure." 
 
 "How is this Mr. Cook?" 
 
 "Why, Paganini did not play at all, he did not even touch a bow." 
 
 "Extraordinary," replied she, " I am more than ever confirmed in my opinion 
 of him, for if without playing he can affect people in this manner, how much 
 more wonderful must be the sensation when he does play. 
 
 A certain great musician once was discussing musical subjects with Frederick 
 the Great, and in the course of conversation they came to talk of the powers of 
 the imagination. The musician boasted of his powers in that direction, saying, 
 that he could imagine anything. In the meantime luncheon was served and 
 Frederick, who was a little irritated because this mortal of a musician claimed to 
 possess powers which his royal highness had not, turned to the musician, who 
 looked with hungry eyes at the good things before him, and said, " Since you can 
 do anything with your imagination, just imagine you have eaten a good meal." 
 Nothing daunted, the musician kept on chatting cheerfully, as if nothing had 
 happened. Taking pity on him, the king at last offered him some wine and con- 
 fectionery, but the musician said sarcastically, " No, I thank your royal highness, 
 I have partaken in my imagination of all the good things on the table, and dare 
 eat no more, for fear of injuring my digestive organs." Perfectly surprised, the 
 king said, ' ' since you have such extraordinary powers of imagination, since you can 
 do anything with it, allow me to suggest, that you mend your stockings with
 
 186 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 your imagination, for there are two big holes above your shoes." And with this 
 he dismissed him. But I have said enough and will close by giving you a quota- 
 tion from an educational journal, showing that this subject is attracting attention. 
 ' 'Great advantages, ' ' said the writer, ' 'arise from cultivating the imagination. How 
 shall we reach the people to benefit them if they have no imaginative culture ? 
 They are like oxen, they know only of food, of shelter, of warmth, they are out 
 of our reach. The imagination furnishes us much of the happiness we enjoy; by 
 cultivating it, we open new sources of pleasure and delight to mankind. ' '
 
 EXPRESSION 
 
 The external exhibition of our thoughts and emotions is termed expression. 
 This exhibition may be accomplished in many ways, for instance, by words, 
 looks, the voice, colors, musical sounds, etc. It is but natural that the thoughts 
 we entertain, the sentiments we cherish, should eventually make an impression 
 upon our faces. Hence we speak of the expression of the face, the expres- 
 sion of the eye ; we say that the face of this person has a good expression, while 
 that of another we abhor because it is bad. The Germans say that in the eye 
 lies the heart, and for this reason we look into the faces, and especially into 
 the eyes, of strangers, expecting there to find an exhibition of their characters. 
 Shallow people look at the clothing or at mere outward beauty as an indication 
 of character, and so shallow-minded people seek to establish character by means 
 of outward appearances. It is to me one of the most interesting studies, as I 
 pass along the streets, to analyze men's characters by looking at their faces, and 
 while I realize the obligations of love toward all men, it is sometimes difficult for 
 me to regard certain persons as human beings ; their faces and manners are so 
 repulsive and animal-like. A motionless face we fear, because it fails to give us 
 a key to the character. Children are quick readers of faces, hence they turn 
 with fear from those whose features are unsympathetic and stereotyped. Look 
 at a child with a motionless face and it will turn from you, yes, it will show signs 
 of fear and distrust, and if the little one is not taken away it will soon express its 
 fear in cries. It is the expression of the face that draws or repels children. If, 
 then, a person's character makes an indelible impression upon his face, it 
 stands to reason, the nobler a man's thoughts, and the purer his emotions, the 
 better is his expression. There are faces out of which looks but goodness ; one 
 can almost imagine them to be surrounded by a halo of purity and gentleness. 
 Others portray nothing but villainy, cunning, deceit, or vanity, or at best but 
 ignorance and rudeness. As our faces are an exhibition of our thoughts and 
 sentiments, so life itself is but an expression of our wills and actions. 
 
 But I mean, to speak of expression in art, and more especially in music. Every 
 art expression presupposes an art impression. Without pure art impressions, 
 lofty and noble art expression is not possible. A genuine art expression is almost 
 sure of making an art impression upon intelligent minds, no matter how feeble 
 this impression may be. While, however, most people may be impressed through 
 the arts, the power of producing such impressions is by no means very general 
 even among intelligent people. All art must be measured by the amount of 
 thought and sentiment it expresses ; where these are lacking, art does not exist. 
 Hence many play and sing brilliantly, yet they are not artists ; their productions 
 are not art works. The artist's inner nature must reveal itself in his art work, 
 if it is expected to influence the souls of others. Mere brilliancy of tone and 
 
 187
 
 188 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 swiftness of execution, mere mixing of colors, mere jingling rhymes will not pro- 
 duce such results. The power to play and to sing with expression is therefore 
 the ultimatum of every musician's work and education, and, so far as expression 
 is concerned, all should be artists. An ounce of genuine art expression is worth 
 more than a pound of technical skill or cold theoretical knowledge, simply because 
 it speaks to men's souls, because it elevates them and affords pure and unalloyed 
 pleasure. A player or singer whose powers of expression have not been devel- 
 oped, cultivated and refined, deserves not the name of musician. 
 
 If expression means an external exhibition of our thoughts and emotions, it 
 stands to reason that, technical skill being equal, he who stands high in the scale 
 of morality and intelligence, must surpass him who stands low in these respects. 
 Good playing and singing, therefore, depend not only upon a musician's tech- 
 nique, but upon his intellectual and moral nature. Marx said that the practical 
 musician is a seer, an interpreter of dreams. Schumann said that genius is only 
 understood by genius, and Hoffmann expresses the same idea in these words, 
 " the poet only understands the poet." Great men's ideas lie, not near the sur- 
 face, like pebbles in a shallow stream, but they lie deep down, as the pearls at the 
 bottom of the ocean. To reach these should be the student's object, and if he 
 has found but one such pearl, he has done more for himself and his hearers than 
 he who has sacks full of pebbles. The stock of pieces one finds in pupils' port- 
 folios are like these pebbles, while one good piece is as a precious stone, more 
 valuable than cart-loads of the other. 
 
 The power to receive art impressions, and to give expression to one's thoughts 
 and sentiments through the medium of art, is not alike strong in all. That Ger- 
 man philosopher was correct when he compared men's powers of musical percep- 
 tion to sounding lines, such as men use to measure the depth of rivers and seas. 
 Some are exceedingly short, while others reach fathoms into the deep sea of art, 
 yet there is no one that has reached the bottom of art. Many good people are 
 capable of receiving art impressions, but it is exceedingly difficult for them to 
 reproduce these impressions. Others lack culture, and it is about as unreasonable 
 to expect them to be interested in art, and to be impressed with art ideas, as it 
 is to expect the hard and uncultivated ground to produce lovely flowers ; educa- 
 tion is needed. Despite the fact that some persons know nothing about musical 
 expression, they are often the loudest in their criticisms, and as a legitimate 
 result, they indulge in a great deal of meaningless talk about correct expression. 
 There are many critics who write for papers, musical and others, who readily 
 detect a mistake made by the pianist or singer, but who fail to notice the grossest 
 violations of the laws of correct expression. 
 
 Every composer aims to express his ideas and emotions in his art-work. The 
 practical musician is expected to reproduce these, so that the audience may 
 behold the beauty of the art- work. The player or singer is therefore the medium 
 between the composer and the audience, and as such he must be conscientious 
 toward both ; by so doing he will necessarily be conscientious in the discharge of 
 his own duty. Every player or singer should have a good technique, at any rate 
 sufficient of it to overcome all the difficulties a piece of music presents. Next, he 
 should be endowed with pure sentiment, in order that he may feel with the com- 
 poser ; and finally he should have a sound understanding of the best means to
 
 EXPRESSION. . 189 
 
 reproduce the composer's sentiments and thoughts. In the performance of a 
 composition, the musician may merely reproduce the composer's ideas and feel- 
 ings, or he may go a step further and put upon it the stamp of his own individu- 
 ality, without, however, destroying the identity of the art- work itself. To do this 
 effectively requires great skill and much native talent. The mere reproducer, say 
 some, stands beneath the composer, while the artist who reveals himself in his 
 performance stands by the side of the composer. 
 
 In the opinion of some, expression is possible only in large and showy compo- 
 sitions. This is a wrong idea. Expression is possible in the smaller forms as 
 well as in the larger. There is power in the simplest thought, if it be good, just 
 as the native lustre of a jewel is perceptible in the smallest fragment, just as 
 magnetism is active in the smallest piece of iron. 
 
 Accept it as a truism, that you can never play with expression until you have 
 overcome all the technical difficulties of a composition. You must be relieved of 
 the thraldom of reading notes and watching expression marks, ere you will be 
 free to yield to the spirit. Pupils should, therefore, not lay aside their old pieces 
 as soon as they have learned to play the notes, for after this task has been accom- 
 plished there comes the second and greater task, that of catching and expressing 
 the spirit. So in reality the student must study his pieces twice, and let me say 
 that the second study is far more difficult and requires greater time than the 
 first. Many teachers, and as a rule, most pupils, are contented with a mere cor- 
 rect performance, as judged from a technical standpoint ; they neglect to aspire 
 to a higher degree of artistic perfection namely, that of playing with correct 
 expression. Schumann said, that " Where the form is clear there the spirit also 
 becomes clear," and Goethe puts the whole matter into a nutshell when he says : 
 "Only what one understands, that one hears, and only what we understand that 
 can we play readily. ' ' 
 
 PHRASES AND PERIODS. 
 
 Many musicians go to excess in their attempts at playing with expression. 
 They disfigure any art- work, and, so to speak, turn the face of a saint into that of 
 a clown. In the playing of such persons, one notices an undue swaying to and fro 
 in the tempo ; they use an excess of force, and go so abruptly from the piano to 
 the forte that one's feelings are wounded. Of course, the true character of a 
 composition is utterly ruined by such players. They use the pedal improperly ; 
 they phrase incorrectly or not at all ; they fail to pronounce the melody well ; in 
 fact, their playing must be compared to an unintelligible scrawl. It is no wonder 
 people fail to derive pleasure from such performances. Usually they wave their 
 hands, move their bodies, turn their eyes, thinking to show great emotion, but 
 all this is a mistake and should be avoided. Such sickly sentimentality has no 
 affinity with art. The true artist is satisfied to let the art-work ^have its effect, 
 and while speaking on this subject let me lay this down as an infallible truth, 
 that a superior composition, well played, never fails utterly; it is sure to make 
 some good impressions. Show-work may astonish for a time, but it will soon be 
 denounced as such ; true artistic performances, though unostentatious in them- 
 selves, are sure to find their way to the heart, their merit grows. Indulge, 
 therefore, in no other. 
 
 To teach pupils, and especially young children, to play with expression is a
 
 190 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 very important part of a musical education. Doubtless most teachers are faithful 
 in this particular ; many I know, from observation, are not. There are those who 
 claim that no special efforts should be made toward teaching children to play with 
 expression. A teacher once said to me, " I aim at nothing but a correct technical 
 performance with little ones." This teacher failed to comprehend the child's 
 capacity. Had he better appreciated and understood children's hearts he would 
 have pursued the opposite course. Let me add, that the early neglect of teach- 
 ing children to play with expression has been the cause of pupils' absolute failure 
 in later years. While the powers of expression may be developed and refined, 
 they may also be neglected and weakened. The early development of expression 
 need not lead to sentimentality ; if a child should be inclined to go to excess the 
 teacher can easily remedy the evil. 
 
 It is the observation of many thinking men that the heart power, the powers 
 of sentiment, are too little developed among Americans. This does not imply 
 that they are void of these gifts, but it does imply that our education is far too 
 realistic and practical, and that by this course we are deprived of many of the 
 more refined pleasures in life. This is the rock upon which the music teacher 
 who is earnest in his work often founders. It is at times a slow and a most 
 tedious process to till the ground which has been neglected for years ; and it is at 
 times painful to notice how anxious pupils are to learn to play with expression, 
 but without immediate results. Pupils cannot always be impressed until after 
 much instruction ; and, as I have already said, where no impressions are made 
 there no expression can be expected. 
 
 While some are readily impressed, others go away apparently empty-handed. 
 Be patient, however, devoted ones, the light will sooner or later break in upon 
 your minds ; be faithful and your reward is certain. 
 
 Reading between the lines, and catching of the spirit requires much repeated 
 hearing and playing. Sentiment originates within, but is very often aroused from 
 without. The judicious teacher must use every means to arouse sentiment. 
 Among these I would enumerate the reading of good books, especially of good 
 poetry, looking at pretty pictures, the communing with nature, the hearing of 
 good music, etc. All these agencies will help to develop sentiment, and if stu- 
 dents were to hear some good music, only once a week, if they were willing to let 
 its gentle rays fall upon their hearts, they would be happier and better for it, for 
 it is sure to develop pure sentiment in them ; it will make them more of feeling 
 men and women, and as such they will be more useful and happy in life. Ah ! 
 music is not an idle play, it is not a mere empty pleasure, nor is it a love of dis- 
 play. There is a high and a noble aim we have in view, and that aim is to add 
 to our culture and refinement. We wish to polish ourselves and others by listen- 
 ing to good music, we wish to arouse sentiment and cause it to overflow into life's 
 actions, just as men dig down and bring to the surface a rich vein of water. The 
 teacher, however, cannot give sentiment, no more than man can produce a vein of 
 spring-water ; he should however, develope it, and herein lies one of the great 
 educational achievements. 
 
 All writers and musicians have acknowledged the superior and magic power of 
 the human voice. The German writer, Schubert, said, " Song doubtless was the 
 first article in the tone world, it is the axis around which everything in art revolves. "
 
 EXPRESSION. 191 
 
 All instruments are imitations of the human voice. Song is the king who sits 
 upon the throne, and before whom all instruments bow as slaves. The human 
 voice is the first, the purest and the most perfect instrument in the world. To use 
 this instrument properly and effectively, requires many natural gifts as well as 
 true art-skill. To point out a few of these and to show how they should be used 
 is the object of this paper. 
 
 Through its connection with the word, song is far more definite than instru- 
 mental music. While there is definiteness in the domain of thought, there is 
 great uncertainty when we attempt to examine and to interpret our own senti- 
 ments or those of others. This is one of the main reasons why the masses, the 
 musically uneducated, as a rule, do not enjoy instrumental music as much as 
 songs. When launching out upon the vast sea of instrumental music, they are 
 helpless, they find nothing to lead or to guide them in their interpretation of 
 such music, while in listening to song, they have the words to guide them; they 
 are the keys to the dark and hidden chambers of sentiment ; they are comments 
 upon music and explain situations. While the instrument and player are two 
 separate beings, the one but a medium in the hand of the other, by which he 
 expresses his sentiments, the singer and his instrument are closely united ; they 
 are one, indeed. This is the great advantage which the singer has over the 
 instrumentalist, for through the medium of the voice all expression is direct and 
 free. This is true only in speaking of a good and well trained voice. When 
 Rossini said that the three requisites of a singer are voice, voice and voice, he 
 was correct in one sense, for without it nothing can be done, without it there is 
 no prospect, for teacher or pupil, of accomplishing anything. For all, it must be 
 acknowledged that other powers beside that of voice are required to make a good 
 singer. A person may have a good and well trained voice, he may have reached 
 a high degree of vocal culture, and yet may utterly fail in an art performance. 
 The singer must be a person of culture in order to appreciate points of beauty in 
 a song, and to comprehend and see the situations as they are pictured in scenes 
 and poems. The cold intellect, however, is not sufficient, for a mere recognition 
 of points of beauty, the mere comprehension of situations will no more make a 
 person a good singer, than the intellectual comprehension of Bible truths 
 will make a person a Christian, Pure thought in itself is cold. Sentiment 
 gives it life ; it alone quickens. We must know the teachings of the Word, and 
 we must love them and carry them out. Thought and sentiment are necessary 
 in religion ; so thought and sentiment are necessary for a singer's success, for 
 without these the most perfect vocalization and technical training fail to move 
 the soul within us. However, let us bear in mind that sentiment cannot discern, 
 neither can it comprehend nor judge, nor hit upon the correct means to be 
 employed to secure or to give proper expression, hence intellect and sentiment 
 must combine, they must cooperate in the performance of an art -work. But 
 these two factors need a third, namely, the imagination, that power which enables 
 us, so to speak, to h've ourselves in situations and conditions so that we become 
 oblivious to the outer world. The singer, especially the one who expects to 
 appear in opera, must be able to step out of himself ; he must be able at any time 
 to open and to enter the doors of grief or joy ; he must possess the magic wand 
 that transplants him into any situation desired. On the wings of the imagina'
 
 192 JUUSiC AND CULTURE. 
 
 tion lie must soar to heights above, whither he draws his audience after him. If 
 he possesses the powers of genius, if he has the intellect, the sentiment, the 
 voice and the necessary cultivation, he cannot fail to attract; he will be a 
 musical magnet, the power of which is irresistible to the human soul The 
 truest test of our musical faculties is the effect which they exercise upon others. 
 If we awaken astonishment merely, we are far from being worthy of the title of 
 artist, but if we silence the tongue, if we hold spellbound the ear and heart, if 
 we call forth sighs and cause the tears to flow, with the charm of our perform- 
 ance, then we sing from the heart and to the heart, we speak with power of 
 mind, we soar on the wings of the imagination, and we take with us on our up- 
 ward flight whosoever is moved by us, and has the power to follow. In order to 
 sing with expression, in addition to a good voice, therefore, three things are 
 necessary, and these are a cultivated mind, depth of sentiment, and an active 
 vivid imagination. He who combines these gifts is indeed highly favored. It 
 is, therefore, not to be wondered that singers demand high salaries for their ser- 
 vices, that they often become proud and are inclined to become jealous and 
 quarrelsome. Yet the public and the press are too often to blame for these 
 results, for both are guilty of flattering and indulging favorite public singers. 
 Thus it happens that their modesty is often obscured, conceit becomes the ruling 
 passion, making the possessor of the voice we love and admire an object disagree- 
 able to us. 
 
 Song is linked to music and poetry. Song is merely a correct musical produc- 
 tion of poetry. The singer, therefore, like the composer, should carefully study 
 the words so that he may fully understand their moaning. In spite of the 
 definiteness of the word, there may be various conceptions of one and the same 
 poem. The various settings of one poem, as, for instance, Goethe's Erl King, 
 proves this fact beyond a doubt. 
 
 Having fully entered into the spirit of the text, the singer should next study 
 the melody and harmony, so that he may learn how the composer lias treated 
 the poem, and here let me say that it is best for the pupil to study first the 
 melody and then the accompaniment. In his first studies let him confine himself 
 to the study of the notes, and when these have been mastered he may also read 
 between the lines, and put upon the music the stamp of his own conception and 
 interpretation.
 
 MAXIMS. 
 
 Waste neither words nor time. 
 
 Seriousness is the soil on which grows true artistic success. 
 
 The real happiness of a teacher lies in his love for his work. 
 
 Tune your hearts and tempers as well as your fiddles and pianos. 
 
 Music is the most subjective, the most intense and passionate of all arts. 
 
 The artist who loves himself better than his art is not worthy of that art 
 
 Laziness is the cancer that eats out the life and prevents the success of many a 
 talent. 
 
 Contact with the great may not make us great, but it makes us greater than 
 we are. 
 
 Love your art, love the artist and the art-work, but beware lest you make idols 
 of them. 
 
 Have respect for him who does well what he attempts, and does all that lies in 
 his power. 
 
 If you do not put any heart power into your music, how do you expect people 
 to feel it? 
 
 Never sink beneath professional dignity, nor rise above modesty and artistic 
 simplicity. 
 
 A new and pleasing song or hymn tune is more contagious than the measles 
 or smallpox. 
 
 Some men fly as high as eagles, but when they come down to you they are noth- 
 ing but buzzards. 
 
 The musician needs character just as much as the theologian, the statesman, 
 and business man. 
 
 Every one can hear the voice of nature, but he only hears music in it who has 
 music in his heart. 
 
 Close observation is very apt to lead to success, on the part of the teacner 
 as well as the pupil. 
 
 13 193
 
 194 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 Many things are deserving of criticism, but not of condemnation. Condemna- 
 tion is not criticism. 
 
 Egotism and conceit are two of the meanest rags hanging about the framework 
 of the human character. 
 
 True art-culture passes only where it is understood. Common sense, shrewdness 
 and wit pass anywhere. 
 
 The teacher who does not feel honored by the profession he follows, will probably 
 not honor his profession. 
 
 Our affections for art should be very warm, but they should not be allowed to 
 grow beyond our control. 
 
 Some people think everything is as defective and incomplete in art, as their 
 own weak eyes behold it. 
 
 Coleridge said that some are like musical glasses ; to produce their finest tones, 
 you must keep them wet. 
 
 Only genius dares to set aside the old, only genius dares to overstep the con- 
 ventional rules of the past. 
 
 As hot water hardens an egg, so constant and severe corrections and scolding 
 harden a pupil's sensibilities. 
 
 If hollow heads were to hurt as badly as hollow teeth, many teachers would be 
 better students than they are. 
 
 Music speaks from the heart and to the heart, it expresses emotions, but can- 
 not describe scenes and situations. 
 
 What your pupil understands that he may remember. What he does not 
 understand he is sure not to remember. 
 
 Fools pass criticism on everything that comes before them, wise men notice only 
 that which is worthy of their attention. 
 
 Would you be successful in life, trust not in luck, but do your every day's duty 
 well. So only will you achieve success. 
 
 Application and brain work ; these are the only short cuts that lead to success 
 iix the study of music ; there are no others. 
 
 As teacher, never discourage ! Build up, impart new life wherever you can. 
 Do not tear down and crush out aspirations. 
 
 The arts are like banks of roses placed by the side of life's weary course. How 
 foolish not to rest thereon from time to time.
 
 MAXIMS. 195 
 
 Never mind about your having no genius ! Do what you can, do it as well as 
 you can, and let the results take care of themselves. 
 
 As we grow morally better, we also view art more seriously, and so when the 
 soul grows corrupt, we also corrupt art and abuse it. 
 
 Artists are as rare as diamonds. They must be polished before they show all 
 their beauty. Life's cares usually do the polishing. 
 
 No progress is possible without a high aim, diligence and self-denial This 
 applies to progress in the arts as well as in morality. 
 
 Make your pupils think ! That is worth more than stating a thousand facts. 
 It is better than many lessons committed to memory. 
 
 Study music in order to beautify your own heart, and beautify your own heart 
 in order to make this world more beautiful to others. 
 
 The way in which a correction is made has much to do with its effectiveness. 
 Watch the tone of your voice and the look of your eye. 
 
 Love is the common ground on which art and religion meet Without love, 
 neither the one nor the other has any enduring powers. 
 
 When we think we usually cease to feel. Bear this in mind, ye learned musi- 
 cians that come to concerts with scores under your arms. 
 
 "I know the subject of this lesson," said a teacher, with a good deal of self- 
 satisfaction. That is well ; but do you know the object ? 
 
 There may not be as many bad pictures as there are bad songs, but the effect 
 of a bad picture is far more serious than that of a bad song. 
 
 The musician who addresses the heart has the most hearers ; he wields the 
 greatest power ; he is best loved and is longest remembered. 
 
 The improvisations of some organists are like much quartz with but very little 
 gold therein. Improvisations of the masters are as solid gold. 
 
 The unjust critic does not love art. How can he love an art that comes from 
 above, when he cherishes no love for his neighbor here below? 
 
 You may graft a tree and improve it after it has reached some growth ; but 
 the good artist springs up from the seed : you cannot graft him. 
 
 Music has no prototype in nature. It does not imitate objects, but it is a repre- 
 sentation of life itself. It is totally independent of the other arts. 
 
 There are teachers and leaders of societies and choirs who are constantly in 
 trouble, simply because they lack tact, because they know not how to govern.
 
 196 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 Kings and emperors are rare, so are true artists. The former carry human 
 crowns on their heads, the latter bear the divine stamp upon their hearts. 
 
 Encourage those who cultivate the beautiful, for their number is small when 
 compared with the millions who are sadly in need of its benign influences. 
 
 " Some pianists ought to be very good people," says an old writer, " for their 
 left hand never knows what their right one does that is, upon the piano." 
 
 Oh, yes ; your art enjoyments might be greater if only you yourself were greater. 
 Your mind is too small a craft, is too easily filled, and draws too little water. 
 
 A music teacher may make light of his moral character, but he will sooner or 
 later discover the fact that the public will not be indifferent to his every day life. 
 
 An artist is an artist, whether the rabble and the crowd recognize him as such 
 or not One ounce of inward self-consciousness is worth a pound of empty praise. 
 
 A workman's tool should always be in a condition for immediate use. So 
 should the teacher's mind be kept sharp and active by study of art and literary 
 works. 
 
 An hour lost is gone forever ; but an hour ill applied is worse than gone forever, 
 for it requires the labor of many hours to make good again what has been done 
 wrong. 
 
 Very seldom does productiveness continue into old age. The youthful fiery 
 mind is gradually cooled and tempered down to become mature, careful and 
 critical 
 
 We say men are accountable to God for the use of their means. Likewise 
 teachers and editors are accountable for the use they make of their talents and 
 of the arts. 
 
 Men have talked nicely about music, yet there is more sentiment in the child 
 who sheds tears while singing a pretty song. Words come from the brain, tears 
 from the heart. 
 
 All great minds are in the advance of their times. We ask not that music 
 teachers be great men and women, but have a right to expect them to be at least 
 up to the times. 
 
 To be worthy of praise and honor is more honorable than to be praised and 
 honored. Strive first to be worthy of both, regardless whether you will be praised 
 and honored or not. 
 
 Remember, dear fellow teacher, that if you are not advancing you are sure to 
 slide back. What is not calculated to push you on is sure to be a load that 
 hinders your progress.
 
 MAXIMS. 197 
 
 The mere ability to play many pieces does not entitle a person to be called a 
 musician. There is more needed than mere playing and singing in order to be 
 worthy of such a distinction. 
 
 We generally dislike in music what is above our comprehension. When listen- 
 ing to a lecture, we are not apt to accuse ourselves of stupidity if we cannot 
 understand what has been said. 
 
 First we build a house, and then we like to see it afford joy and comfort to its 
 occupants. So composers write songs, first to please themselves, afterwards that 
 others may take delight in them. 
 
 It is the teacher's duty to pour into his work all that is in him, all of his 
 strength and love. If he withholds it, he is dishonest and his dishonesty 
 injures himself as well as his pupil 
 
 Do your duty ; be faithful ; be generous and kind, and your hour is bound to 
 come. Stand on the side of truth, and the world must come to you, for you have 
 first come to God, who is the Truth. 
 
 There is much difference between teachers and musicians. Some give many 
 things but not much of anything. Others give only a few things, but in these 
 few things they bestow a great deal. 
 
 It would be foolish to throw away all ripe fruit that shows signs of decay, it is 
 also unwise to criticise and to set aside wise men's minds, because they show 
 mental weaknesses in certain directions. 
 
 The farmer must plow, sow, and cultivate his crops before he can expect to 
 reap a harvest, yet many musical students expect to reap without preparatory 
 work, and without the necessary hard toil. 
 
 See that you attempt only that for which you are fitted. Having found your 
 field of usefulness, do your daily duty to the best of your ability, and realize that 
 this is all of life. This road leads to success. 
 
 To trust one's own opinions and ways better than those of others, may, under 
 certain circumstances, be an indication of individuality and strength of mental 
 power ; usually, however, it betokens conceit. 
 
 Opportunities rarely offer themselves twice ; harvest and seed time come only 
 once a year. Improve your opportunities faithfully ; sow in time, so that you 
 may also be permitted to gather in your harvest. 
 
 Many a man thinks he has a good case until he comes into the presence of a 
 judge or a jury. Many a pupil thinks he has a good lesson until he comes into 
 the presence of his teacher or before an audience.
 
 198 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 To teach without much recognition, to labor contentedly for small wages, to 
 work twelve and even more hours a day, hidden away in the school-room, requires 
 a brave heart and a strong faith, say what you will. 
 
 Genius and talent are gifts, and it is foolish to boast of them. Show us your 
 works and show us the gain you have made by the use of your gifts, and we will 
 tell you whether or not you are deserving of honors. 
 
 Teach your pupils to think for themselves. Ideas do not grow in the skull as 
 hair grows on top of it. There are many teachers who are mentally bald-headed, 
 and, of course, they can only raise bald-headed pupils. 
 
 He who has no aspirations sees no shortcomings in himself. He who aims not 
 to improve the world finds it, as a rule, good enough. This class of people take 
 the world as it is, 'tis true, but they also leave it as it was. 
 
 He who works hardest values his efforts the most. Genius often comes easy 
 by mental work, and hence is regarded but slightly. No matter how little he 
 regards his own work, his art he always magnifies and adores. 
 
 All seeds do not spring up, and all your instructions are not productive of good 
 results. It would be foolish for the farmer to fret himself because some seeds go 
 to waste ; and why should the teacher be less wise and reasonable ? 
 
 It is better that as a teacher you should continue to long for improvement, 
 without having your desires gratified, than that you should stand still, perfectly 
 satisfied with yourself, feeling that self improvement is not needed. 
 
 Having eaten something unusually good, ladies look in the cook-book to learn 
 how the article is prepared. A musical cook-book, a volume telling amateurs 
 what pieces mean and how they are made, would have a good sale. 
 
 Everything good and pure must have its source in something better and purer, 
 and so we may go backward and upward, when searching for the finality of the 
 good and beautiful, until at last we find it concentrated in the Deity. 
 
 It is as great an error to treat some musicians with magnanimity as it is to treat 
 others with severity. Some musicians are like dogs, they must see the whip ; 
 others are like spirited horses, the sight of the whip sets them wild. 
 
 Be a rational, thinking teacher, not a mere machine. Be a willing laborer, 
 not a mere drudge. Be original, not a mere imitator. Be a leader, not a driver. 
 Seek new and better paths, remembering that he who seeks shall find. 
 
 The emotions which are aroused by music in the hearts of some are much like 
 those called forth by certain preachers in religious assemblies. They are mere 
 nervous excitement. Neither true art nor religion have a part in them.
 
 MAXIMS. 199 
 
 Most young people Who make music their life's work seek self first, their own 
 interests are dearer to them than the interests of art. It is proper to attend to 
 our own affairs, but art should be of equal importance in the teacher's heart. 
 
 Talent is of great value to the student, but talent without work is as money 
 that lies idle. It brings no interest and fails to be a means of support. Put your 
 talents out on interest and endeavor to get the best per cent, for them you can. 
 
 Consider well, oh, critic, before you say bitter and unkind words. Tis easy to 
 wound, but it requires years perhaps for the wound to heal. Always put yourself 
 in the place of the artist whom you are about to criticise before you use severity. 
 
 Music expresses no definite ideas, but is a language eminently fitted for the 
 expression of sentiment. What kind of music is that which neither awakens 
 nor expresses sentiment ? Music without sentiment is like religion without love ! 
 
 Said a teacher, ' : This pupil is as hard as flint; you cannot get any fire into her 
 playing." This may be your fault, dear teacher. Maybe there is no fine steel in 
 your own make-up ; or, perhaps, you are only soft iron, unfit to draw fire from 
 a flint. 
 
 It is only a few years since the American pianist, Grottschalk, amused his 
 audience by playing two tunes at the same time. If he were to come back to us, 
 he would hardly dare to attempt such a thing again. Who brought about this 
 change ? 
 
 Measure not an artist by mere finger show or vocal flourishes. When listening 
 to music, endeavor to feel the artist's pulse and try to see the lightning flashes 
 of his brain power. These are the tests of artists, and they prefer to be tried by 
 no other. 
 
 Cross words spoken with a smile, or pleasant words uttered with a frown, do not 
 express the meaning they convey. The same is true of good music played by a 
 trifler, or trifling music played by a learned musician. There is fitness in all 
 things. 
 
 The scientist only makes new discoveries, he finds that which was hidden, but 
 which already had an existence. The artist, however, produces new forms and 
 ideas ; in the finite sense of the word, he is a creator, and in this he stands near 
 the Deity. 
 
 No matter how high we may rise in our art enjoyments, it is so ordained that 
 we must return again to mother earth with all its thraldom and disappointments. 
 Such pleasures are wisely allowed us only from time to time ; it is our daily duty 
 to live and toil. 
 
 There are few ideas in music, as in literature, that are entirely original. Our 
 thoughts and sentiments play over into each other, like the shades of one 
 and the same color. But, then, we admire these shades and praise him who 
 produces them.
 
 200 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 After the performance of a song, keep your mouth shut, so that other people 
 may open theirs and speak in your favor. There are many singers who first do 
 the singing, and then claim, also, the privilege of doing the talking about them- 
 selves, of course. 
 
 There is One Being who has planned and made everything, and who rules and 
 preserves everything. Why should not this rule apply to the arts ? Truly God 
 speaks through the arts as He speaks through nature, and its language Is a call to 
 come nearer to Him. 
 
 Do not fail to keep the old lessons bright, else you will be like the housekeeper 
 who has but one clean room the one she swept last. Go over the old work 
 constantly, for reviewing makes perfect, perfection encourages, and encourage- 
 ment leads to success. 
 
 Unless the pupil has a clear conception of the works of art he is to perform, 
 there can be no clear expression. There is a twofold study, namely, that of the 
 spirit and that of the technique. Many are satisfied with the latter, neglecting 
 altogether the former. 
 
 He who is inspired in his work cannot be unhappy in it. If ever there is an 
 occupation which is calculated to inspire men, it is that of teaching. He who 
 enters his work without inspiration is a mere hireling, whose work will never be 
 productive of great good. 
 
 You cannot carry a torch through a dense crowd without burning some one. 
 You cannot drive your carriage over dirty roads without getting the wheels 
 muddy. Neither can you edit a paper without meeting opposition and calling 
 forth disapproval of some. 
 
 Let teachers in each lesson give one or two brief historic facts. Let these be 
 stated in plain words, so that the pupil may understand and remember them. 
 You will be surprised how much information can be imparted during a term or 
 two by this simple method. 
 
 Keep calm, ye quiet workers who live in secluded places. Keep to the truth, 
 do honest work, and let the results take care of themselves. It is better that you 
 be worthy of honors than that you carry them unworthily. Keep calm, some 
 day your work will be revealed. 
 
 There is no one so modest but that he likes to hear a word of praise and 
 recognition. It is an error to withhold either for fear that the pupil will become 
 vain. If it is your duty to point out shortcomings, it is also your duty to recog- 
 nize merit. Be moderate in both. 
 
 A wonderful art is this of ours. It speaks to every heart, and that according 
 to its own feelings. It addresses every intellect and teaches as much as the mind 
 can understand. Yet neither head nor heart have ever exhausted the powers of 
 music or reached its greatest depth.
 
 MAXIMS. 201 
 
 Each teacher, like a mariner, is at liberty to take what course he chooses upon 
 the vast sea of musical instruction. He has his chart, he has his instruments ; 
 let him use them judiciously. His speed and successful entry to the harbor 
 will show what sort of an instructor he is. 
 
 The composer who minds public criticism, the opinion of the masses, tries to 
 steer his ship according to the weather-vane. He will never go far in one direction, 
 and in the end will be condemned by all for not making progress on the road of 
 success. Mind your own affairs and go ahead. 
 
 Honor and reputation are two distinct things. Men may have honor but lack 
 reputation, while many a man of reputation is devoid of honor. Honor grows 
 in the garden of the heart ; reputation grows in the commons of public opinion, 
 and there it often appears as a worthless weed. 
 
 Some musicians seem to fail everywhere, hence they constantly complain of the 
 hardness of fate and the treachery of the world. Let such remember that stones 
 sink in water ; corks and sticks, however float along. The world does not toss 
 stones about ; only windy foot-balls are kicked around. 
 
 Our peculiar mental construction often causes us to differ in our views concern- 
 ing art, as well as in the enjoyment of the same. The one looks at it, as it were, 
 through a green, the other through a red glass. Learn to see it without a glass, 
 so that you may appreciate art in all its purity and beauty. 
 
 He only is entitled to criticise who fully comprehends the art work. Most 
 critics merely search for faults and shortcomings, passing silently or perhaps 
 ignorantly over all that is good, and this they call criticism. He who fails to 
 realize the good in an art work has no right to point out its defects. 
 
 What if an architect cannot conceive the plan of a great cathedral or a palace? 
 If he builds for us good comfortable houses we ought to respect him for what he 
 does. What if a composer cannot conceive a great symphony: if he gives us good 
 music for teachers' use, should we not honor him for what he has done ? 
 
 It is an old saying, that all beginnings are difficult, but when applying this sen- 
 tence to art, one may well add that both the beginning and the end are difficult 
 Our great pianists and singers have no easy task to keep up their professional 
 standing. It is by no means easy for teachers to keep abreast of the times. 
 
 Some pupils are like those who take only a few bites of each dish. They taste 
 many things and eat and drink until they have dyspepsia. So many pupils learn 
 a little of this and a little of that piece they never digest anything well ; their 
 food does not nourish them ; they cannot grow ; they are musical dyspeptics. 
 
 There are too many mechanical teachers, men and women who merely assign 
 lessons for the pupils to study, and hear recitations. There is not a spark of life
 
 202 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 or originality about their work. They go on to-day as they did yesterday, they 
 use the same means with A which they apply to B. What can be expected from 
 such teachers? 
 
 But recently, we noticed upon a concert bill the announcement that a certain 
 singer had been heard by some of the crowned heads of Europe. It would have 
 been more creditable to have boasted of having appeared before people that have 
 something in their heads, than of having sung before people that have something 
 on their heads. 
 
 Schopenhauer says that the amount of noise a man can support with equa- 
 nimity is in inverse proportion to his mental capacity, and should be regarded 
 as a measure of one's intellectual powers. He who habitually slams the doors 
 instead of closing them gently is not only an ill-bred, but also a coarse-grained, 
 feebly-endowed creature. 
 
 He who weeps over a pretty piece of music cannot be utterly depraved. 
 Though his heart may be covered all over with rubbish, there will be found 
 blooming in the little openings some gentle flowers, small and crippled, to 
 be sure, but endowed with vigor enough to cause them to grow as soon as light 
 and warmth are admitted. 
 
 Yes, yes ; music is the art that best expresses emotion. That is good enough 
 as far as it goes ; but what are your emotions that music is to express ? That 
 is another question. And then comes still another. Do you know how to 
 use an art as a means of expression ? How many there are who display utter 
 ignorance upon these points. 
 
 Stupidity and envy obscure many a man's good work. Stupidity we may 
 pardon, but not envy. The first bears its own marks of recognition, the second 
 is generally sly and deceitful. It is a mean man, who, seeing a greater light than 
 himself, attempts to blow it out, or to put it under a bushel. Envy is a sure 
 indication of inferiority, of a lack of culture. 
 
 The pupil who imagines that a superior teacher will carry him through without 
 doing hard work himself is sure to be disappointed. Learn to stand upon your 
 own feet, for you must walk over every foot of the road that leads to success. 
 There are no stage coaches or bicycles that will take you there. If you covet 
 success as a musician you must fight to attain it. 
 
 Many teachers regard work as a punishment, a task that causes them to moan 
 and to fret. Why are you in the world ? Surely not for the purpose of idling 
 away your time. To work and to do something for the progress of mankind is a 
 great privilege. If teaching is a task, quit it, and try something else. But if 
 you are unwilling to do anything, then you hardly deserve to live. 
 
 Many persons are capable of receiving good art impressions, though they would 
 utterly fail, were they to attempt to give expression to their impressions. Many
 
 MAXIMS. 203 
 
 newspaper critics, however, give expression to their views about art works, with- 
 out having received any art impressions. They view art works as they would 
 political speeches. Any one who listens, they say, can understand. 
 
 Seek always to see the bright side of your work, and be sure of this one fact, 
 that there is a bright side. Do not look at the dark side of your professional 
 labors. Look at its pleasures and not at its drudgery ; look upward, not down- 
 ward ; look at your pupils with love, and not with a frown and an expression of 
 despair. Thus alone will you do good, and be happy in your work. 
 
 Correct playing and singing is the work of years. It depends much upon 
 mechanical accuracy, and this should by no means be neglected. But we would 
 rather the pupil would make a few mistakes and let the light of his soul shine 
 out of his playing, than that he perform a piece with a faultless technique and 
 play without expression, without the voice of the heart being heard in it. 
 
 Those who have done much in life usually feel most keenly the littleness of 
 then- eiforts and results. Those who have done but little usually are the con- 
 ceited ones. They magnify their own importance, and one might let them alone 
 in this particular, were it not for the fact that they are not satisfied with magnify- 
 ing themselves. No, they must belittle others also. Contempt on such fellows ! 
 
 Human nature is not always an agreeable subject for study, but all teachers 
 must study it. Some natures are ugly, and some beautiful ; some are, as cold as 
 whiter, some warm as spring ; some are prickly, as thistles, and others sweet, 
 as violets ; some are sly and venomous, as serpents, others are innocent, as 
 doves. To adapt one's self to the different individuals is the real wear and tear 
 of a teacher's work. 
 
 Only he who loves art for its own sake can endure hardships for it Only the 
 pure, unselfish love for art endures throughout life ; it is like the waters of a 
 spring, every day brings its own supply. He, however, who seeks only honors 
 and riches in the domain of the arts, is a hireling ; he flees when privations and 
 difficulties stare him in the face, or having his desires, his love for the art soon 
 wanes and dies out. 
 
 Critics should bear in mind the fact that there are other people endowed with 
 just as good taste and correct judgment as they are. This will make them more 
 considerate and truthful. Some critics seem to think that they alone have correct 
 musical ears, while the rest of the people are not capable of forming a correct 
 estimate of a performance. Such vanity often peeps out between the lines 
 of newspaper criticisms. 
 
 A gardener was so absorbed in his cuttings that he failed to notice the arrival 
 of a visitor. Upon seeing his friend, he said, "Pardon me, you see one must put 
 his whole mind on these young things, if he would have them do well ; and I 
 cannot bear that one should die on my hands, for I should feel almost as if I had
 
 - - 
 i ----- _< 
 

 
 MAXIMS. 205 
 
 tongues are unjust and unkind Yet they always boast of the fact that they have 
 enemies and regard it as an indication of personal worth. Such blindness ! 
 
 Our JEolian harp was in the window, and the gende evening breeze was play- 
 ing upon the strings. Some children came by laughing and talking, but no 
 sooner had they heard the soft tones of the instrument, than they stood silently 
 and listened. A number of persons were talking in the room, when the sweet 
 tones reached their ears. Though engaged in a lively conversation, they instantly 
 became still and thoughtfully listened. Oh, Music ! thou hast indeed great 
 charms. Thy influence is more powerful and more general than that of any other 
 art. 
 
 Warm sunlight is productive of growth in plant life, cold and chilling air 
 destroys it The growth of crops that required weeks of warm sunlight may be 
 destroyed in a half-hour by icy rain. Compare your school-room or your lesson 
 to the field, and see whether your conduct and your speech is like sunshine or like 
 hail Many teachers are like hail-storms in their intercourse with little ones. 
 They are always severe and cold. Such teachers never raise good crops ; they 
 are not productive, but decidedly destructive. Severity may be needed, but it 
 should be mingled with love. 
 
 Musical education, like all other mental progress, is of slow growth. Do what 
 we will, the rosebud takes its own time to unfold. The same is true of the human 
 mind. We may press the rosebud and force it to open, but the flower will not be 
 as beautiful or as fragrant as it would have been had it unfolded in its own slow 
 process. Neither will it be a healthy and enduring flower. Do not hasten the 
 young mind, for this is a dangerous, unhealthy process. Too much work laid 
 upon the pupil is often as injurious to the mind as too much water and heat for 
 the plant Give the child time for development 
 
 The teacher should talk in his lessons ; yes, he should be a good talker ; but he 
 should be far more than that he should be a good teacher. Talking is not teach- 
 ing. Beware of those who proffer to teach you ah 1 about harmony in a few days. 
 They may tell you all about it, but they do not teach you all about it There is 
 a difference between telling and teaching. Some men may unduly lengthen 
 the course of instruction in harmony, but no teacher can complete a course in a 
 week or in a month. Yet there are teachers who claim to be able to do this very 
 thing. A man may ride over a ten-acre field in a very short time, but it requires 
 time to plough it well, and still longer to raise a good crop on it 
 
 See to it that you well know what you wish to teach. Next endeavor to ac- 
 quaint yourself with the best methods of teaching. Then study human nature, 
 so that you may know how to control and how to stimulate to action those whom 
 you are called upon to instruct Be observing, so that you may realize whether 
 your pupil is doing all he can do, and whether he is progressing as rapidly as he 
 ought to. Last, but not least, keep the heart-fire burning within you, keep the 
 love-light from going out ; that is, love for pupil, love for art, love for truth, and 
 love for mankind. By following these rules you are sure to succeed.
 
 206 MUSIC AND CULTURE. 
 
 Those who devise methods usually claim that theirs are the only correct ones. 
 There is more than one good method in teaching, and why should teachers become 
 so wrathy when others differ from them in the way of doing things ? The one- 
 method idea does not serve in all cases. Neither human minds nor hearts can be 
 pressed into one mould. There is great diversity in hearing and seeing, and also 
 in appreciating. This world is full of diversity. No two trees, though of the 
 same species, look alike. Different plants and animals require different treat- 
 ment. Why should we deny this advantage to our pupils ? Some teachers hang 
 the coat of a method on all pupils' shoulders, whether it fits or not. Adapt the 
 method to the child, do not endeavor to adapt the child to the method. 
 
 Do not only look at the world as it ought to be, but see it as it is. Of course, 
 try to make it what you think it should be, but you will never succeed in doing 
 this unless you know what the world really is. Have some object in view, have 
 a definite plan with your pupils, and strive for that ideal you see before you. 
 When you consider what your pupils ought to be, do not fail to study their real 
 condition and see what they are. It is easy to find fault with pupils and with 
 the world, but to make them both better, is quite another thing. There is no 
 reward promised for the faultfinder, but there is a reward for him who corrects 
 evils. This is the teacher's mission. By viewing your professional work from 
 this standpoint, you will always find it interesting and honorable. 
 
 Are you cast down, fellow teacher ? Give us your hand ! Many times we 
 have felt as if the world were, so to speak, boarded up, and our progress would 
 be forever stopped ! Many tunes we have felt as if we had lived in vain, and as 
 if our work were but as dust. Yet, there comes again the night that is filled 
 with music, 
 
 " And the cares that infest the day 
 Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, 
 And as silently steal away." 
 
 Bear up, fellow teachers, there is not a cloud but that is followed by sunshine, 
 and while the cloud darkens your pathway, have faith in the sun and hope for 
 its appearance.
 
 University of California 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 
 
 Return this material to the library 
 
 from which it was borrowed. 
 
 REC'O MUS-U8. 
 
 Sft- 
 
 A p R 
 
 FEB 03 1999 
 
 8
 
 A 000 049 076 3