{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_21542/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_21542","id":"gutenberg_21542","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/21542","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Music","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Music -- Philosophy and aesthetics"],"text":"Produced by David Newman, Sigal Alon, Chuck Greif and the\nOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n     SPIRIT AND MUSIC\n\n    _By the same Author_\n\n    NERVE CONTROL\n    SELF TRAINING\n    A BOOK OF AUTO-SUGGESTIONS\n    THE INFLUENCE OF THOUGHT\n    A MANUAL OF HYPNOTISM\n    THE HIDDEN SELF\n    POINTS ON PRACTISING\n\n\n\n\nSpirit and Music\n\nBY\n\nH. ERNEST HUNT\n\nAuthor of Nerve Control, Self Training, &c, &c.;\nLecturer in Psychology at the Training School for\nMusic Teachers, The Metropolitan Academy of\nMusic, The Kensington School of Music, &c.,\nLondon\n\nLONDON:\nKEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., LTD.\nJ. CURWEN & SONS, LTD.\nNEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.\n1922\n\nPrinted in Great Britain by St. Stephen's Printing Works, Bristol.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nCHAP.\n\nI THE SPIRIT OF MUSIC\n\nII THE PLACE OF MUSIC IN LIFE\n\nIII THE EXPRESSION OF LIFE\n\nIV SPIRIT A LIVING FACT\n\nV THE CONDITIONS OF INSPIRATION\n\nVI THE INTERPRETER\n\nVII THE TEACHER\n\nVIII THE SOUL OF SONG\n\nIX MUSIC AND EDUCATION\n\nX THE ARTISTIC TEMPERAMENT\n\nXI \"PURE MUSIC\"\n\nXII THE PURPOSE OF ART\n\n\n\n\nSPIRIT AND MUSIC\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE SPIRIT OF MUSIC\n\n\"Art is the Manifestation of the Spiritual by means of the\nMaterial\"\n\nNewlandsmith\n\n\nMusic is a part of life. It is not merely an accomplishment or a hobby,\nnor yet a means of relaxation from the strenuous business of earning a\nliving. It is not an addendum or an excrescence: it is an actual part of\nthe fabric of life itself. The object of these pages will be to show how\nclosely Music, and indeed Art in general, has woven itself into the\npattern of our lives, and how intimately it may influence and fashion\nthe design.\n\nThe structural basis of Music is vibration. Sound comes to us in the\nguise of air-waves, which impinge upon the drum of the ear. The\nnerve-impulse thus aroused is conveyed to the brain, and there\ntranslated into sound. Strictly speaking there is thus no sound until\nthe brain translates the message, while if the machinery of the ear be\ntoo dull to answer to the vibration the sound simply does not exist for\nus. Beyond doubt the world is full of sounds that we cannot hear and of\nsights that we never see, for of the whole range of vibration our senses\npermit us to garner but the veriest fragment--a few notes here of sound,\nand a brief range there of sight, out of the whole vast scale of vibrant\nNature.\n\nThere are sounds which are musical, and others that are raucous and mere\nnoise. The difference lies in the fact that harsh sounds are compounded\nof irregular vibrations, while the essence of Music is that its waves\nare rhythmic and follow each other in ordered swing. Rhythm is thus the\nprimary manifestation of Music: but equally so it is the basic\ncharacteristic of everything in life. We learn that in Nature there is\nnothing still and inert, but that everything is in incessant motion.\nThere is no such thing as solid matter. The man of Science resolved\nmatter into atoms, and now these atoms themselves are found to be as\nminiature universes. Round a central sun, termed a Proton, whirl a\nnumber of electrons in rhythmic motion and incessant swing. And these\nelectrons and protons--what are they? Something in the nature of charges\nof electricity, positive and negative. So where is now our\nseeming-solid matter?\n\nWhen this knowledge informs our outlook we see that all that lives,\nmoves: and even that which never seems to move, lives also in continual\nrhythm and response. The eternal hills are vibrant to the eye of\nscience, and the very stones are pulsing with the joy of life. The\ncountryside sings, and there is the beat of rhythm not merely in our\nhearts but in every particle of our body. Stillness is a delusion, and\nimmobility a fiction of the senses. Life is movement and activity, and\nrigidity and stiffness come more near to what we understand as death.\nYet even in death there is no stillness, there is but a change in the\nform of activity. The body is no longer alive as an organised community,\nbut in its individual cells: the activity is the liveliness of\ndecomposition. Thus all the world expresses life, and expresses it in a\nrhythm in which law and order reign supreme, and in which a sweet and\nsane regularity is the ordinance.\n\nRegular rhythm involves accent. Whether or no there be any such emphasis\nas a thing in itself, the listening ear supplies it to meet a need. When\nwe attend to a clock ticking, the tick-tock, tick-tock, however even it\nmay sound at first, soon resolves itself into a rhythm with the accent\non either the tick or the tock. So does the beat of an engine, or the\nhum of a railway train, merge itself into some definite sound picture,\nwith the accent for relief that the ear demands. Thus out of rhythm\ngrows very naturally an accentuation which gives balance, structure, and\nform. We start with the little units--the ticks and the tocks--and we\nbuild something bigger by grouping these together. This is a principle\nwhich we may see running through the activities of life in a thousand\nforms.\n\nBricks are made to pattern and thus possess a rhythm of their own, but\nwhen they are laid in courses they merge their individual rhythm into\nthe ordered lines of the courses. These again may be comprehended in\nlarger units of arches, buttresses, and stories: and all these again\nwill be grouped and contained in this or that style of architecture. So,\ntoo, Music may begin with notes and tones, but accent quickly groups\nthese into larger units to satisfy the senses in their demand for\nbalance and proportion. Thus by increasing the size of our unit we build\nthe rhythm of form and lay the foundation for the further development of\nthe Art.\n\nSince Nature is regular, from the beating of our own hearts to the swing\nof universes in the heavens, therefore engrained in our very selves is\nthis claim for ordered progression, balance, and sustained sequence.\nWhen we attain this, whether in Music or otherwise, we derive a measure\nof restfulness and satisfaction and we gain a sense of completeness. Any\nwork of Art should leave us with this conviction, that nothing could be\nadded or left out without marring the perfect proportion of the whole.\n\"Jazz,\" whether in Music or in any other direction, gives just the very\nopposite effect, marring the sense of proportion and distorting the\nfeeling of satisfaction. It exists as a testimony to a morbid\ndissatisfaction with life, it gives emphasis to the unbalanced and\nneurotic. The true beauty of Art--as of Music--consists on the contrary\nof this larger rhythm which makes for wholesomeness and proportion,\nwhich achieves at once the rest and the satisfaction that the soul\ncraves. Its wholesomeness is health, which again is ease. Its reverse is\ndisease: and when Music becomes mere noise and discord it is the same as\nwhen beauty becomes ugliness and health vanishes in sickness.\n\nThe second element of Music is melody, and this corresponds to the\noutline in Nature. Things have their shapes and their forms, even as our\nvery lives consist of ups and downs, varied with occasional runs along\nthe level. The country has its outlines, its hills that rise and climb,\nits valleys that fall and fade. There is the even line of the horizon,\ntopped by the swelling clouds: there are curves and sweeps in the\nswaying of trees and grasses, in the flight of birds, and in the grace\nof the human form. It is significant that Nature's handiwork so abounds\nin curves, whilst that of man is fashioned so much upon straight lines\nwith consequent sharp points and angles. Is it not obvious that Art has\nhad but scanty share in designing our towns and manufactories? Right\nangles, no doubt, stand for utility in a commercial age, but Nature with\nher longer purview has little use for them and prefers a more rounded\nway of progress. Nature inspires, but not in square-cut periods. It is a\nsafe plan to turn to Nature, as to the diagram of God, if we find\nourselves in any doubt as to the way.\n\n\"Let your air be good, and your composition will be so likewise, and\nwill assuredly delight,\" says tuneful Father Haydn, and Music's outline\nin melody limns, as does that of Nature, the beauty of her design. It\nspeaks of wood or stream, of billowed sky, and now of sombre shadow. It\nripples in dainty dance, or tumbles down in cascades of joy. Music's\nmelody vies with the drive and bluster of the wind, sobbing and\nsighing, whistling round corners and playing pranks. Then, maybe, it\nsinks to silence, and the white mist creeps up: and now there is no\nmelody, no outline, but just the one still sameness over all.\n\nWe live in a three dimensional world, and in its length, breadth, and\nsolidity do we disport ourselves. Music also has its three-fold manner\nof expression, its rhythm, its melody, and now its harmony. The rhythm\nis for balance, the melody for the outline, while the harmony\nconstitutes the texture. Here again in other directions we may trace the\nsame essentials: there is a texture of colouring, a style in Literature,\nand an appropriate technique for harmony in every branch of Art, just as\nthere is an harmonic scheme in Music. This may be airy, light, and\ngossamer, or turgid and obscure: it may be commonplace or ponderous.\nLike Nature, it may have a thousand or a myriad shades to mirror as many\nmoods and tenses. It may have the misty filminess of steam, the limpid\ndeeps of water, or the cold weight and icy dullness of pompous\nignorance.\n\nSee how Nature harmoniously groups her colour scheme, with a master hand\nensuring that nothing shall clash or be inappropriate. Into this scheme\nshe introduces the song of birds and the sighing of the breeze, with\nperhaps in the dull distance the roar of the sea growling away and\nrefusing to be driven from its obstinate pedal bass. Into our life she\nbrings affection rose-colour, and for openness and truth the blue of the\nsky. She paints hatred dark, and passion fiery. Energy she portrays as\nred, and purity white. Could we but see ourselves in this colour-scheme\nwe should realise that, like God's fresh air, all should be clear and\nbright, but we ourselves pollute the design with the smoke of our own\ndesires.\n\nSo the musician to-day takes the theme that has been given to him by the\nhigh gods, for \"the idea in embryo comes from a Higher Power\"[1] and\npaints in and accompanies it with such harmonies as his soul may sound\nand his technique record. He has Nature for pattern, and he may do what\nhe will so long as, Nature-like, there is life expressing itself.\nEverything in the world stands for something, as even the hills stand\nfor pulsing life. As within, so without: the outer semblance is never\nthe real thing, but ever stands as a mirror to the inner. The bird\nsings, but he is ever expressing his soul in song: it is only the human\nsinger who can utter sounds without significance. Music is never mere\nnotes, never sound alone, but always the outer form as the expression\nand unfoldment of something deeper. Rhythm, melody, and harmony are\nsimply the three-fold means of expression, both of the musician and of\nMother Nature. Of the two, Nature makes the better Music, being closer\nto the heart of God.\n\n[Note 1: Macpherson. \"Music and its Appreciation.\"]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE PLACE OF MUSIC IN LIFE\n\n\"Music is not merely a matter for the cultured: it is inextricably\nbound up in the bundle of common life\"\n\n_Scholes_\n\n\nMusic, as we have seen, is implanted in the very nature of things, and\nit is as deeply embedded in our lives. Was there ever a time when no man\nsang? As a matter of evolutionary accuracy, yes, there probably was such\na time. But, looking at it in a commonsense way the answer is No. To-day\nwe find that savages and aborigines, who are still in the childhood\nstage of evolution, are immensely susceptible to the sway of rhythm, and\nin their weird dances to the beating of the Tom-toms accompany their\nantics with a crooning or chanting, which no doubt to them stands in the\nplace of song.\n\nWas there ever a mother who did not croon to her fretful child, and who\ndid not rock her babe to sleep with rhythmic lullaby? Song spans the\ngap from mother Eve to the mother of to-day: the song may vary, though\nthe emotion of the mother-love remains the same. This crooning, with its\nelement of soothing monotony, it is interesting to note is distinctly\nhypnotic in its effect, for the sleep of hypnosis is definitely induced\nby monotonous stimulation of any of the senses. The rocking and crooning\non the part of the mother are quite akin, though unconsciously so, to\nthe approved scientific methods. It is also curious that the nature of\nthe monotonous stimulation does not seem to matter very much, for there\nis a case on record where a doctor hypnotised a patient by reciting to\nhim in a low voice a few verses of \"The Walrus and the Carpenter.\" The\npsycho-analysts would probably say that the patient went to sleep in\nself-defence. We can well remember how we were lulled to sleep in\nearliest days to the following somewhat fearsome and original words sung\nto the tune of a popular hymn:--\n\n   \"Bye, bye, bye, bye,\n    Horse, pig, cow, sheep,\n    Rhinoceros, donkey, cat:\n    Dog, dickie, hippopotamus,\n    Black-beetle, spider, rat.\"\n\nFrom which it appears evident that the actual words used as a soporific\nallow considerable latitude of choice.\n\nNo doubt Pan piped, and the Nymphs danced to his music in their woodland\ngroves, much as the poor kiddies in the slums and alleys of our\nsmoke-ridden towns dance to-day when the Italian organ man comes round\nwith his instrument. The melody and rhythm float out and call to the\nmusic lying hid in their hearts, and their self responds. Something\nwithin them demands instant expression, and they forget their slums in\ndancing their merry measure, till the music stops and the Italian passes\non to raise Fairyland in the next slum. Music has given them a glimpse\nof something outside their dull and prosaic surroundings, it has touched\ntheir hearts with a glamour which is a glint of spiritual sunshine in a\ndrab world.\n\nIt was our privilege a dozen years or more ago to have a small share in\nthe active work of the Art Studies Association of Liverpool. This\norganisation, due to the zeal of the Director of Education, existed for\nthe purpose of introducing the joys of Music to the children of the\nvarious elementary schools. Concerts of different types were given for\ntheir benefit in their own schoolrooms in the evenings, and as\nadmittance could not be given to all it was considered a privilege to be\nable to attend. The pathos stills echoes in mind when we recall how some\nof these children, boys and girls, would trudge out in the wet\nevenings, often ill-nourished and insufficiently clad, to taste the joys\nof music. Never was there any question of attention, for they were\neagerness personified, and it seemed as if they found there something\nthat their souls had missed. Too little do we realise that food and\nclothing do not suffice us, young or old. We cannot live by bread alone:\nour stomachs may be full and our souls empty. The spiritual side of our\nnature demands sustenance and, as in the case of these hungry and often\nwet little school children, it is the province of Music to minister to\nthat need. \"A love of music is worth any amount of five-finger\nexercises, and the capacity to enjoy a Symphony is beyond all\nexamination certificates.\"[2]\n\n[Note 2: \"Everyman and his Music.\" Scholes.]\n\nA brass band will fill a whole street with glamour, and the normal\nperson finds it quite impossible to be out of step with the rhythm of\nthe march. Watch the way in which, as the Pied Piper of Hamelin drew the\nchildren after him, the band draws the elders to the window and the\nchildren to the street: the appeal is never in vain. Marching in time\nwith the music tired feet forget their weariness, and new strength comes\nfrom the reserves of the greater self, liberated at the unspoken appeal\nof melody and rhythm. The Salvation Army with its sometimes quite\nexcellent brass bands ever attracts a crowd of interested listeners.\nTheir enthusiasm is quite as real as, and perhaps even more real than,\nthat of a fashionable audience in the Queen's Hall: more real, because\nif the Salvation Army fails to please it is always possible to walk\naway. If a person is bored at the Queen's Hall a lack of moral courage\nwill probably detain him to the end of the performance. There is magic\nin a bugle call, there are whole volumes of countryside history in a\nposthorn's blast as the four-horse coach swings past. The beat of the\ndrum and the shrill pipe of the fifes carry a \"come-along\" atmosphere\nwith them, and if we fail to answer the call it is most likely with a\nlingering feeling of regret that the days of adventure for us are past\nand gone.\n\nAll this is the incidental music of the highways and byways, but as a\nperennial stimulant for the emotions we call for Music's aid in many\ncircumstances. Does not the villain of the piece enter and take the\nstage to a suggestively diabolic tremolo in the orchestra, and is not\nthe lovemaking also conducted to an appropriately sensuous\naccompaniment, sufficiently subdued, to keep the emotions susceptible\nand fluid? Could the villain enter with the same eclat to a stony\nsilence, or the lovemaking thrill in the same way without the moral\nsupport of a few well-chosen harmonies? It may be that in heightening\nthe emotional element we correspondingly diminish the appeal to the\nintelligence, and thus render ourselves less critical both of\nstage-villainy and of fictitious lovemaking.\n\nNothing can be accomplished without music of some sort. We must have it\nin our churches and our chapels, in our moving pictures, in schools, at\nbanquets and dinners, and in the restaurants. Could any bride feel the\nsame satisfaction in walking down the silent aisle of the church, after\nthe most important ceremony in the world, as if the organ were pealing\nout its good wishes in Mendelssohn's Wedding March? Oh NO. Music we must\nhave, for it has wedded itself to all our pomp and ceremony, and if we\nmay not have it in any other guise we must at least end up with \"Auld\nLang Syne\" or \"For he's a jolly good fe-e-ellow,\" or at any rate the\nNational Anthem.\n\nIn the robust and plain-speaking days of old Pepys our forbears took\ntheir Musick seriously. There was less of the gadding about that fills\nthe time to-day, and much of the melody was perforce home-made. Any\neducated person was expected to be able to take his part in a glee at\nsight, and some of the music was none too easy at that. The contrast\nwith the present lamentable lack of sight-reading ability is most\nmarked. The number of people who could do the same to-day is, in\ncomparison, small. We have not made progress in this direction, indeed\nwe have fallen back. But we have multiplied our choirs and our choral\nsocieties, our Musical Festivals with their competitions have taken\nsolid root, training in musical work is now more widespread than ever\nbefore, and these considerations have served, and are serving, to make\nmusic more and more a part of the national life.\n\nSometimes indeed we happen upon music in unexpected quarters. One of the\nmost impressive scenes that comes to mind is an occasion during the\nGreat War--in which music played so valiant a part in sustaining the\nmorale of combatants and non-combatants alike--when, drawn up on the\ndeparture platform of a Metropolitan railway station, in full kit and in\ntwo long ranks, was a number of Welsh Guards. They were singing some\nsong in two parts, and while the one half sustained the melody the\nothers were rolling out a fine contrapuntal accompaniment with full,\nresonant, and sonorous tone. The effect was quite remarkable. Song\nheartens us when weary and helps the miles to slip past even though the\nditty be but \"Tipperary\" or \"John Brown's body.\" In the emergency\nsomeone will strike up a ditty or a hymn and at once the human spirit\nand Will revive their native courage: did not the Titanic sink to the\nstrains of the hymn \"Lead, kindly Light,\" sung by a group of those who\nwere facing death, and faced it with song upon their lips?\n\nWe have music in our heritage, we have Folk Songs by land and Chanties\nthat smack of the seas: in these there lies a wealth of melody and\nsentiment of which we have made too little. But it is entirely charming\nto see the way in which small children in the schools will sing these\nsongs with complete natural verve and appreciation. \"Oh, no John, no\nJohn, No\" will be rendered with that Art which only springs from\nartlessness. Surely it is to the young that we must look if the love of\nmusic is to be fostered and encouraged in the coming years. \"Let the\nrising generation become thoroughly well acquainted with the best\nMusical works through the medium of concert-lectures, the mechanical\npiano-player, municipal, hotel, and garden concerts. Let them follow up\ntheir knowledge with reading about Musicians' lives, work, and\ninfluence. Throughout all this instruction--and from the very\nfirst--let them become acquainted with the elements of musical theory,\nboth in their minds and also as exemplified on the pianoforte keyboard:\nand when all this has been done we shall have a cultivated musical\npublic--a public that is able to discriminate between the good and the\nbad, the true and the false art.\"[3] This may perhaps be the counsel of\nperfection of an enthusiast, but progress lies more along the lines of\nappreciation of music than in the personal performance of it. There are\nthousands who are able to appreciate the technical mastery of an\ninstrument to every one who can accomplish it. Music as taught at\npresent in the non-elementary schools is largely a snare and a delusion.\nA few are turned out with a musicianly equipment, largely in spite of\nthe system rather than by its aid, but the vast majority have little\nmore than a smattering of musical knowledge and a mediocre standard of\nexecutive ability as the result of years of study. But the growth of the\nartistic soul is not accomplished through the fingers, and indeed it is\nnot infrequently strangled at birth by five-finger exercises.\n\n[Note 3: Newlandsmith. \"The Temple of Art.\"]\n\nYet we are waking up. Music already occupies an unassailable position in\nour daily activities, it will presently occupy a still greater place.\nNothing is still, and least of all does Art remain fixed. The whole\nworld is awakening to a new standard of values, for we have at length\ndiscovered the impossibility of running civilisation on purely\nmaterialistic lines. The inner side of things is becoming manifest, and\na measure of spiritual insight is being vouchsafed to us: therefore all\nthose things which minister to the spiritual will be increased in our\nregard. Of these Music is certainly not the least. \"Religion, love, and\nMusic, are they not the three-fold expression of the same fact, the need\nof expansion under which every noble soul labours?\"[4] So the Art of the\nfuture may be expected to ally itself with religion, on the side of\nspirit, for the battle royal against the forces of an outworn\nmaterialism. The end is not by any means yet, but the issue is certain:\nand we ourselves to-day may play the more valiant part in the moulding\nof the years to be if we realise to the full, not only what Music is and\nthe part it plays in life, but also the fine possibilities that lie\nhidden in the future.\n\n[Note 4: Balzac.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE EXPRESSION OF LIFE\n\n\"Music is the mediator between the spiritual and the sensual life\"\n\n_Beethoven_\n\n\nIf Music be a means of expression, we must needs ask ourselves what it\nexpresses. It is entirely insufficient to accept music as sequence or a\ncombination of tones that \"sound nice.\" It would be just as reasonable\nto regard a meal as something that tastes nice, whereas of course the\nmeal has a meaning and a use beyond mere taste: its purpose is to\nsustain life, and the question of taste is merely incidental to the\nlarger issue. Music therefore may sound nice, but we desire to arrive at\nsome explanation far transcending this.\n\nAll phases of life express something, and we shall not be very far from\nthe truth if we regard that something as spirit. The grass, we say, is\nalive: but its life consists in its ability to express that essential\nsomething which we here term spirit. When it is no longer able to\naccomplish this, the grass is still there, but we call it dead. We might\ndraw an apt parallel from the electric light bulb: this is nothing but a\npossible source of light, until it is connected with the main supply\nfrom the generating station. The seeming independence of the bulb is a\nfiction, it has no true existence as a lamp until it expresses itself by\ngiving light. Yet the light is not its own light, and when the filament\nbreaks and the current can no longer circulate through the bulb it\nceases to be a lamp. It is, like the grass, dead: and for exactly the\nsame reason, that it can no longer express life or spirit.\n\nFurthermore, the amount of resistance that a lamp interposes to the free\ncirculation of the current through it has its effect upon the light it\ngives. One lamp may yield a fine light, and another on the same circuit\nmay afford but poor illumination: the one expresses well, and the other\nill. So, too, with the grass, one patch may be free-growing and another\nmay be but poor stuff: one expresses well, and the other feebly. In the\nsame way with ourselves, if our bodies have the life force circulating\nfreely they express robust health: and if the force find but a\nconstricted channel, then our bodies express health in scanty measure\nand approximate more to disease than to the normal well-being. Our\nbodies are no more independent organisms than is the lamp bulb: they\nexpress the spirit which is the essence of the self, and when that self\nwithdraws the body is as dead as the grass or the worn-out bulb. Yet the\nfailure of the bulb casts no reflection upon the generating station, for\nthe current is still there. We do not need to assume that the current\nhas failed, for in that case it would fail alike for every bulb upon the\ncircuit. If every form and phase of life were to expire and cease at a\ngiven moment, we might then, and then only, be justified in assuming\nthat spirit had ceased to be: but in that case there would be but little\nneed for us to worry about the point.\n\nWe may imagine spirit as the driving force behind everything, as the\nurge towards evolution, as the pent-up intelligence which ever seeks one\nvariation and then another. Then, when one variation appears, more\nappropriate to its surroundings than others, this, because of its\nfitness, survives. As human beings we are individualised fragments of\nthe great universal spirit. There is only the one life and the one\nspirit, but there are diversities of gifts to enable that spirit to be\nexpressed. The grass expresses it in its luxuriance, its colour, and\nits growth: the birds in their song: and the whole of what we are\npleased to term the lower creation bespeaks this spirit in the daily\nactivity. When this expression ceases, the thing that was once alive is\ndead.\n\nThere is no special merit that all the works of the Lord should thus\npraise the Lord in their expression, because below the stage of a human\nbeing there is no option. The lower forms of life are like lamps on a\ncircuit which light up by reason of the current over which they\nexercised no control. But a human being is like a lamp that is connected\nwith the main circuit and yet has its own switch. This ability to switch\non or off constitutes our measure of freewill, our power of saying yes\nor no. It is a necessary accompaniment of our knowledge of good and evil\nfor \"no choice, no progress.\" It betokens our progress from the merely\nanimal stage of consciousness to that of self-consciousness--the phase\nof existence where we not only know, but we know that we know. This\nability to express well, badly, or not at all, just as we may please, is\nour special prerogative: it gives man the privilege, which is denied to\nall life below him, of deliberately choosing the worse and of making a\nfool of himself. The animals know what is good for them because they\nfollow their unreasoning instincts and blindly repeat the racial course\nof action implanted within them, and the mere survival of the species\nproves that this particular response to the particular circumstance has\nbeen \"tried out\" by ages of experience. But a man blinds and smothers\nhis instincts (and these at the best, it may be observed, are distinctly\nmixed) or perhaps indulges them in defiance of his better judgment, and\nthus his expression of his own divinity is often sadly marred.[5]\n\n[Note 5: James Rhoades.]\n\n   \"Know this, O man, sole root of sin in thee\n    Is not to know thine own divinity.\"\n\nA man may even deny the very existence of spirit, and thus by a subtle\nbut efficacious species of self-suggestion prevent its manifestation in\nhimself. But whether he expresses this spirit well or ill, a man does in\nfact join with all creation below him in manifesting this innate\nspirituality without which there can be no life.\n\nThus everything stands for something else that is deeper, there is an\nouter form and an inner soul or spirit. Spenser thus expresses it:--\n\n   \"For of the soule the bodie forme doth take,\n    For soule is forme, and doth the bodie make.\"\n\nIt is only when we grasp this elementary truth that life becomes in the\nleast plain and intelligible, and the result of grasping it is that we\ncease to be deceived by the apparent values of things, and are able to\nappraise them more at their true and spiritual worth. We are then\nenabled to pass from circumstances (which are results) to the realm of\ncauses: the balance is transferred from the seen to the unseen, and the\npoint of view approximates more to the eternal than the transient. A\ngreater poise and certainty follow as a matter of course, since the\nmental outlook is centred in the true rather than the seeming.\n\nAll life then is the expression of spirit, and our varied activities are\nbut the modes of this expression. To this, Music is no exception. Very\nnaturally also, the better the machinery or the technique of expression,\nthe more of the spirit can get through. We can play more\nsympathetically, more fluently, and with finer effect on a beautiful\n\"grand\" than on a jangly upright instrument: the one is a better vehicle\nof expression than the other. So also we can secure more fluent\nexpression with a fountain pen than with one that continually interrupts\nthe free flow of ideas by demanding to be dipped in the inkpot. We have\ntwo typewriters of the same manufacture, but one is an early model and\nthe other a modern machine: there is a vast difference in the ease of\nexpressing thought, in the favour of the later instrument with all its\nspecial conveniences. In general terms the object of all improvement of\ntechnical means is the better expression of the spirit. Musically, to\npractise scales and exercises with the object of getting one's fingers\nloose is like eating for the sake of developing a fluent jaw action--the\nvision of the end has been lost in the means. We must ever keep in view\nthe fact that life itself, and especially Art and Music, can only fulfil\na proper purpose when resulting in the ever-increasing and better\nexpression of the underlying spirit, or as Elgar puts it--\"more of\nTruth.\"\n\nThe law of spirit is Love. The drive of spirit is ever upward towards\nprogress, aspiration, and unity. If we take a drop of quicksilver and\nseparate it into smaller particles, as soon as ever the conditions\nallow, these smaller globules will amalgamate themselves with the larger\nbody from which they have been temporarily divorced. We can almost\nimagine we hear them utter a fervent \"thank goodness\" as they reach that\nhome of heart's desire. So are we, too, as separated and individualised\nsparks of the divine fire, burning till at length we reach our freedom\nand can merge ourselves in that Sun of spirit whence, \"trailing clouds\nof glory,\" we have come.\n\nMan, we say, is a gregarious animal, and it is certainly only the man of\nwarped mind who seeks to cut himself off from his fellows: we are all of\nus spirits, and spirit seeks unity and approach. Love is the one uniting\nand binding force in the universe, just as its opposite--hatred--is the\ndisintegrating element. Love operates in attraction, as we see it in\nmotherhood, childhood, and the love of man and maid. But it also works\non the grand scale in the guise of the law of Gravity which attracts and\nbinds universes together, and regulates and controls the swing of\ninconceivable immensities. Look again and we may see love working as\nchemical affinity to attract molecule to molecule, or as cohesion to\nkeep the very particles knit together in kinship.\n\nIt is this spirit of love that unites the myriad cells of our own body\ninto the little commonwealth of self: when this life-force withdraws,\nthe love ceases to bind, and immediately the \"dead\" body becomes\ninfinitely alive, but the unity is at an end and decomposition has set\nin. So love is the fulfilling of the law: not merely \"a\" law, but the\nvery fundamental law on which our continued existence hangs. Eliminate\ngravity, and the universe as we know it must come to an end in a\ncatastrophe which it is beyond the power of our imagination to conceive.\nIf cohesion ceased to be, then everything would fall to powder and would\ndisintegrate. Destroy all love between man and man, and civilisation\nitself would fall to pieces. This is no question of dogma, gospel, or\nman-made law, it is simply a plain statement of the fundamental\ncondition of our very existence. The importance of love is paramount,\nand if we are wise we shall seek to discover these overriding laws of\nour being, and adjust our lives in conformity with their requirements.\n\nSpirit is love, and love manifests itself in service: the love that\nseeks its own ends, or strives to get instead of to serve, is no love at\nall. Therefore if Music is to express this spirit it must do so by\ncontributing its meed of assistance to make this workaday world more\nbright by gladdening the heart of man. Quite obviously much of the music\nthat is written has been composed with no such intent, therefore and to\nthat extent it stultifies itself. It must be classed as the \"sounding\nbrass and tinkling cymbal\" of the prophet. St. Paul's analysis of the\nreason of the ineffectiveness of such, too, is searchingly accurate:\nthat, lacking charity, it signified nothing. Charity is only another\nsynonym for that love which is the manifestation of spirit. The true\nmusician has this spirit of love within him and it demands expression,\nand so we find Mozart exclaiming \"I write because I cannot help it.\" So\nGranville Bantock, too--\"The impulse to create Music is on me, and I\nwrite to gratify my impulse. When I have written the work I have done\nwith it. What I do desire is to begin to enjoy myself by writing\nsomething else.\"[6] The musician sings because he must: he writes so\nthat the spirit may find its outlet in that direction: or he plays, when\nonly through his fingers and the instrument can he find that expression\nwhich his soul demands.\n\n[Note 6: J. C. Hadden, \"Modern Musicians.\"]\n\nWhen Music is thus outpoured it speaks of spirit, and adds to the\nspiritual store of the world. It reinforces the unseen hosts that fight\nfor spirit in the age-long struggle with the powers of materialism and\ndarkness. No breath of spirit is ever lost, and nothing devoid of it is\never permanent, either in music or in anything else. Sounds without\nsense or meaning are futile, notes without a heartfelt message are\n\"returned empty\" as they were sent forth, and practice without purpose\nother than mere self-gratification, agility, or display, is a\nmagnificent and glorious waste of time. But Music, when its true\nunderlying purport is discovered, is at once an inspiration and a most\nreal means of achieving that fundamental object, for which our very\nexistence here at this present moment is devised, namely spiritual\ngrowth and development.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nSPIRIT A LIVING FACT\n\n\"Is Music the inarticulate Speech of the Angels on earth? Or a\nvoice of the Undiscovered Bringing great truths to the birth?\"\n\n_F. W. Faber_\n\n\nLife is a diversity in unity, and the expression in countless different\nforms and shapes of the one fundamental reality, spirit. We ourselves\nare comprehended in this definition, being part of this fundamental\nspirit, and claiming thereby our divinity. Music also, as a part of\nlife, is subject to the same explanation: and thus the spirit of Music\nis a real thing. The Muses of a Classical day typified this same idea of\nthe spirit behind the form. Indeed man, spiritual as at base he is, can\nnever rest finally satisfied with the outer semblance and form: just as\nthe body craves sustenance, so does the spiritual part of him. No amount\nof physical satisfaction will ever allay the heart-hunger, and no flood\nof Rationalist thinking will ever put an end to the instinctive search\nafter the Unknown God.\n\nIn spiritual law, as in natural law, nothing is ever lost. We study the\nphysical, and by analogy we may learn much of the spiritual: we have not\nbeen left without guidance in the maze of life. But the first essential\nis that we should study those things which are open to us, and through\nthem learn something of the wisdom that otherwise lies hidden. Nothing\nis lost: we see, as the hymn puts it, \"change and decay,\" but the decay\nis only change of form, and death, in the form of extinction, simply\ndoes not exist. Even thoughts, transient and gossamer as they may\nappear, do their work in our brains and leave their permanent impress\nwith us. Occultists further assure us that they are recorded in the\neternal archives. It is said that there are the Akashic Records, in some\nsubtle way which we cannot pretend to understand, imprinted in the\nether. \"This primary substance is of exquisite fineness and is so\nsensitive that the slightest vibration... registers an indelible\nimpression upon it.\"[7] If this be so, then here is the story of all\nthat has ever been, and all that is. In our own subconscious minds we\nknow full well that there is such a perfect and complete record as to\nconstitute an individual Judgment Book within of unimpeachable accuracy,\nand there seems to be nothing intrinsically unreasonable in the idea\nthat there should be something of the kind on a world scale. Monumental\nhistories of the traditional lost continent of Atlantis have been\ncompiled, professedly from this source, and we find an interesting\ninkling of the same idea in the way in which objects will sometimes\nimpress sensitive folk with their own history. Things sometimes have a\n\"feel\" about them, pleasant or the reverse, just as buildings acquire an\naura and an atmosphere, sacred or convivial, or even unholy.\n\n[Note 7: Dowling. \"The Aquarian Gospel.\"]\n\nThe musician, then, may obey Nature's universal behest, and change his\nform from the physical of to-day to the more tenuous of a finer realm.\nHe may die: but his music lives on. He perhaps has played his part in\nthe world symphony and, his present work finished, he lays his\ninstrument aside. This body of ours is the instrument of the spirit: no\nwedding feast without a wedding garment, and no part or lot in the\nphysical world without a body. The tuning of the body to delicate\nresponse and high endeavour enables the spirit to express its melody the\nbetter, and therefore it is incumbent upon the musician to cultivate a\nhigh standard of physical health. This does not mean the maximum of\nnourishment, combined with stimulants to compel a jaded appetite: on the\ncontrary, artistic efficiency demands super-cleanliness and a tolerably\nrigid self-denial. Girth is no measure of artistic ability. But the\nbody, sound or otherwise, is the instrument through which we play life's\nlittle tune, just as the pianist plays through his pianoforte. But when\nwe have closed the pianoforte nobody supposes that we have extinguished\nthe artist, or annihilated the music: we have merely put an end to its\nexpression for the time. So when our instrument of the body grows old,\nworn-out, or decrepit, so that it can no longer answer to the dictates\nof the spirit within, we cast it aside, as an instrument whose keys are\nbroken, or whose strings are for ever mute. Then the musician goes upon\nhis far journey.\n\nBut long though the journey seem, it is a change of state rather than of\nplace: as if from being cased in solid ice he now were buoyant in limpid\nwater. His music and his melodies which were so great a part of him now\nconstitute his real self, besides being for ever inscribed upon the roll\nof eternal remembrance. So the great musicians still live on, and when\nwe claim that such-and-such an interpreter gives us the spirit of Bach,\nwe may be saying more truly than we realise. There is no limit to the\nrange of thought save the intrinsic nature of the thought itself. All\nthoughts seek their own, by the law of sympathy: like to like, fine to\nfine, and gross to gross. \"Not all of us give due credit to the\nanomalous nature of love, reaching as high as heaven, sinking as low as\nhell, uniting in itself all extremes of good and evil, of lofty and\nlow.\"[8] So when a man steeps himself in thoughts of a type, when he\nponders over and lives in the music of a master, his thoughts span the\nrealms and the ages, and he reaches that master, even if only to touch\nthe hem of his garment. Then the master's thoughts are his, and he truly\ngives of the spirit of the music, for a measure of inspiration has been\nvouchsafed to him.\n\n[Note 8: Jung. \"Analytical Psychology.\"]\n\nWhatever we dwell upon has its \"tuning\" effect upon our thoughts, and\nthus we reach some of the lore and wisdom of those who have trodden the\nway before us. The inventor and the discoverer are truly what the words\nimply: the inventor \"comes upon\" the new idea or principle, and the\ndiscoverer \"uncovers\" and makes plain. But all the ideas and all the new\nand novel discoveries, and all the laws, were there before: we only\nreach them when we have climbed to a sufficient height to be able to\napprehend them. So the musician who reaches the spirit of Bach has, by\nthe attunement of his thoughts and his aspirations, crept into the heart\nof the music and has tugged at the musician's heart-strings. He has\ntouched the composer's soul, and henceforth he plays Music, not notes.\n\nAgain, Bach, and all the masters of Music have in their turn but\ndiscovered the Music that was already there. No man really creates, any\nmore than the gardener creates an oak tree by the planting of an acorn.\nThe gardener provides the necessary conditions in which the oak, already\nmiraculously pent within the acorn, can unfold and develop. So the\nmusician also provides the necessary conditions in which the spirit of\nMusic can blossom and bear fruit. He need take to himself no vast amount\nof credit, for he is but a trustee of that which has been lent to him:\nhe neither creates it nor owns it. His music is a gift of spirit, and\nwhen by his life's work he has glorified that gift, then henceforth that\nis his contribution to the universal store of spirit, and his Art\nbelongs to the ages.\n\nInspiration is a commonplace of life, though only too often we think of\nit solely in connection with religion, and especially with reference to\nthe Bible. Because thought flies free and ever consorts like with like,\nso almost every moment of our days we are inspiring others and being\ninspired in return. It is mere delusion that we consider ourselves\nindependent units, for we are literally built of one another. Memory\nlargely constitutes the man, for his every experience and thought is\nrecorded by his subconscious memory, and goes to the making of his\ncharacteristics and his personality. Day by day we meet, and perforce\nremember each other: we remember also those to whom we may never have\nspoken, and so--unintroduced--they creep in this subtle way into our\npersonality. \"We are, each one of us, united by bonds of emotional\ninfluence with the personalities of all those with whom we have had to\ndo. If we could see them, they would guide us to their objects, for they\nnever lose their way. Thus by threads of love, threads of hatred,\nthreads of adoration, threads of thought, the universe of souls is\ninterpenetrated and linked up into a unity of correlated activity, an\nintricate web of life.\"[9] Something of myself goes, in my thoughts,\ninto this written word: you read it, and as the thought incorporates\nitself in your mind so does some tenuous element of my personality creep\ninto your own. Our independence is a fiction. We inspire each other,\nwhether we like it or no.\n\n[Note 9: C. J. Whitby, M.D. \"The Open Secret.\"]\n\nBut inspiration is of all kinds: it is like those neutral forces of\nfaith and thought, which depend for their result upon the direction in\nwhich they are turned. Inspiration can uplift, but it may also degrade.\nWe ourselves by the tuning of our own thoughts determine which it shall\naccomplish. Like can only answer to like: anger can never play echo to\nlove, for their vibrations are so far apart in attunement that the one\ncannot influence the other. But anger answers to anger, and love to\nlove. It is the eternal response of the love implanted in the spirit of\nman that ever bids him answer to the love that radiates from the divine.\nHence, in whatever age or clime we look, always there is to be seen man\nin quest for the unseen, after joy, beauty, truth, happiness, after all\nthose spangles that glitter on the garment of love.\n\nThe mind of man is ever the tenuous instrument upon which are playing\nthe invisible forces of inspiration. All the thoughts that have existed,\nexist still: all the thoughts that man can ever think are there already,\nthey do but await the time and season in which he can sense and\ninterpret them. These are the future discoveries for you and for me.\nThe pioneers who have passed our way are still working at the tasks\nthat were at once their life and love: and they have not gone so far\nupon the journey that they have outspanned the reach of thought. If our\nthoughts be fine and unselfish enough, if aspiration tune them\nsufficiently high, they will reach their aim: and the reply will be\nvouchsafed. There was never yet an aspirant who was unable to find a\nteacher. It is most true that the living and the dead are still one\nfamily, for of course there are no \"dead,\" unless we most correctly put\ninto this category the dull of hearing, the dull of heart, and the\nloveless who still walk this earth. But if we deem the pioneers defunct\nand inarticulate, then it is little likely that we shall comprehend the\nreality and the naturalness of this interplay and inspiration. If we\nnever seek, information and insight will scarcely drop upon us from the\nskies.\n\nWe talk of inspired playing, inspired teaching, the gift of song, and so\non, and we talk of a reality. The playing that is not inspired is worth\nbut little, it has the worth of a nutshell with the kernel gone\namissing. It is sound, perhaps it may even be fine sound, yet it\nsignifies nothing: it is as the painted face aping true beauty. Art\nwithout inspiration is our electric light bulb disconnected from the\nmain current. There are prophets in the world to-day, for a prophet in\nthe strict sense of the word is one who speaks forth his message.\nEveryone who senses something of the eternal message--which is love--is\nin his degree a prophet, yea and a saviour too. He may speak or sing, he\nmay perform or compose, he may wait and serve, or he may just pass his\nmessage on with a handshake and a smile: he is an interpreter, a medium\ntwixt wisdom and the unwise. Thus we must place the true artist,\nwhatever be the particular bent of his activities, as a prophet in his\nday and his generation. That he may be far from being regarded as such\nby those to whom he ministers is merely one of the incidental\ndisadvantages of being a prophet.\n\nQuite obviously also there will be both good prophets and bad: even a\nprosaic telegram may be repeated on payment of half the original cost,\nbecause of the possibility of error occurring in the text. How much more\nmay error occur, then, when tenuous messages are being sent from high\nsources by the power of thought, and when the receiving instrument is so\noften imperfect, so frequently out of gear, and when that instrument in\naddition is more than a trifle wilful and tainted with selfishness.\nInspiration is ever ready, it floats around us like tuned wireless\nvibrations waiting to be picked up by a sympathetic receiver. Yet so few\nreceivers, being but human after all, are sensitive enough and\nsufficiently delicate in in their poise to catch the floating news: and\nso the harvest is plenteous but those who garner it are few.\n\nPerhaps Sullivan felt something of this when, in the \"Prodigal Son,\" he\npenned the simplest and yet most eloquent of melodies to the words, \"O\nthat thou hadst hearkened to My commandments,\" ending up with the words,\nset too simply for any but a consummate artist to sing with complete\neffect,--\"Turn ye, turn ye--why will ye die?\" The marvel truly is that\nwe are already so dead, so immured and petrified in our hard\nself-satisfaction, when we might so easily develop the freedom,\nfluidity, and delicacy of fine response to these tenuous intimations of\nour own spirituality and high destiny. Here we live, as some writer has\naptly said, on top of a gold mine, and the tragedy is that we are\nignorant of the gold. We live, and move, and have our being in an ocean\nof spiritual and inspiring thought: surely our problem is to find the\nconditions that will avail to put us in touch with this lively world of\ninspiration in which we are accustomed to pass so dead and unresponsive\nan existence.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE CONDITIONS OF INSPIRATION\n\n\"The greatest Masterpieces in Music will be found to contain\nsensuous, emotional, and rational factors, and something beside:\nsome divine element of life by which they are animated and\ninspired\"\n\n_W. H. Hadow_\n\n\nIt may be interesting for a little space to consider the conditions\nunder which Inspiration operates, for, like any other faculty, it is\nsubject to the control of law. We have already emphasised the\nuniversality of vibration and the call of like to like, but the theme\nwill bear some further elaboration.\n\nWe adventure into the study of sound and its laws and we find that all\nsounds are propagated by means of waves. These proceed in circular\nfashion, as do the ripples upon the still surface of a lake into which a\nstone has been thrown. Further, these waves are of differing rates.\nMiddle C, on the piano, for instance, is made by waves that reach us at\nthe rate of about 256 per second. As sound travels roughly at 1,100\nfeet to the second, it is clear that the wave of this note is something\nover four feet from crest to crest. The wave of a note an octave higher\nwould be double the rate and half the length. In addition to this there\nmay be big waves and little waves travelling at the same rate, and also\nthe actual shape of the waves may differ very widely. Thus waves have\npoints of similarity and yet their infinite variety, as do human beings.\n\nThis variety in the shape of the waves results in the difference in\ntimbre between various tones. Nobody could fail to distinguish between\nthe sound of a note played on a penny whistle and the same note given\nout on a violin or a cornet: yet the actual rate of wave would be the\nsame in each case. The reason is that no tone is a pure fundamental\ntone, there are always super-added a number of other tones, termed the\novertones. These are, to the original tone, exactly what the flavouring\nis to the pudding. You have your fundamental tone and you can add your\novertones to taste: you can flavour with the penny whistle, the violin,\nor the cornet timbre to suit yourself. But according to the flavouring,\nso is the shape of the wave. Isolated fundamental tones are apt to be\ncolourless and monotonous, like the diapason work on an organ. The\norganist is able to flavour his fundamental tone at will, by the stops\nhe draws to add to it: he has a special supply of \"mixtures\" which sound\ntruly dreadful and impossible by themselves, but these in combination\nwith the fundamental go to the making of a successful timbre. Carrots,\nby themselves, are not a Christmas diet, but we understand that they go\nto improve the flavour of the festive pudding.\n\nIn some such way as this thoughts are tuned, and from the thoughts we\nthink, the desires we entertain, and the aspirations which fill our\nsouls, the timbre of our life is determined. No one is fundamentally and\nwholly good or bad, we have all of us our overtones, and some of us have\nvery curious mixtures which go to make us what we are. But just as the\ngramophone will take in all the wonderful complexity of sound waves\nwhich are sent out by a whole orchestra of instruments, and will combine\nthese into one wavy line on the record--a kind of compound wave\ncontaining \"all the elements so mixed\"--so also it is with ourselves.\nAll the thought elements are so mixed in us that as we go through life\nwe vibrate to a note that is unique, compounded as it is of all those\ninner thoughts and emotions that are so exclusively our own. To those\nwho sound the same note, or one that is in harmony, we are akin. We meet\nthem for the first time, and in a moment we have known them for years,\nperhaps always: we play unison or harmony in our sympathetic attunement.\nOn the other hand, sounding our persistent middle C on our little\njourney, perhaps we come up against an equally insistent C sharp:\nexcellent notes, each of them--yet there promises but doubtful harmony.\nKeep to your own key, and be happy.\n\nWhatever note we sing is an invisible, and yet most potent, influence in\nour lives. We may deem that our thoughts do not matter overmuch, and\nthat it is only deeds that count. Heresy and mistake. Thoughts make us\nor mar us. Sympathy ensures that we are surrounded and encompassed by\nthat which we ourselves attract. There is a law of consonance, and we\nare responsible for things in a way that but few realise. This note we\nsing, this mirror of our personality, this invisible force attracts our\nfriends: change the note--the personality--and we inevitably alter the\nfriendships which were determined thereby. This same note selects the\nclothes we wear, the things we eat, it chooses the books we read and the\navocations we pursue. It is reflected in the pictures on our walls, and\nin the furniture which decorates our rooms. It determines the prospects\nwhich are before us, just as it has attracted the appropriate\ndifficulties and trials that we have left behind. It marries us, and\neventually it buries us. Sometimes our overtones of desires or greed\ninter us long before our lease of life is due to expire. But perhaps\nmost important of all, it determines and selects the Inspiration we are\nable to receive.\n\nThoughts of every kind beat upon our minds, as the waves lap the\nseashore, but we are only able to respond to those that call and awaken\nsome sympathetic answer within us. The heart that is pure can live in an\nocean of impurity, and yet remain unsullied: but the character with\nanger implanted within will find that anger blazing out in echo and\nanswer to a hundred provocations a day. Hatred means nothing, in\ntemptation or response, to a heart overflowing with love. Thus this\nattunement is at once an avenue for our assault, or our sure shield of\ndefence, according as its note determines. A low tone is an ever-present\ndanger, and a high one a permanent safeguard.\n\nInspiration is therefore only possible to us at our own level, and\nunless we are mentally attuned to a high note the inspiration itself\nwill reach no lofty measure. It is true that a mood of exaltation, of\nearnest prayer or aspiration, may enable us to catch a glimpse of the\nhigher vision, but under these circumstances it is apt to be elusive and\nfragmentary. The condition of any permanent influx is that the\nattunement should be habitually and continuously lofty. When this\ncondition is at length reached we are not so very far from that \"prayer\nwithout ceasing,\" which most truly means \"the practice of the presence\nof God.\"\n\nThe avenue of inspiration is the subconscious part of the mind, that\npart of us which in fact constitutes the greater self. In ordinary life\nthis department of mind is more or less shielded by the consciousness.\nIt would retain the permanent impress of every idea it came across, were\nit not that the consciousness off-hand and summarily rejects a number of\nimpressions which might otherwise prove detrimental. One man calls\nanother a fool, but this one knows very well that he is nothing of the\nkind, and so the idea carries very little weight in its record on the\nsubconscious. On the other hand, if there were no protective mechanism\nof this nature, the subconscious might very well accept the statement\nand believe that its owner certainly was the fool he had been dubbed.\nThe effect, therefore, of consciousness is thus to limit and reduce\nthis sensitiveness and susceptibility of the subconscious part of mind.\n\nAs the consciousness passes out of action, as in dream states, brown\nstudies, and in the induced sleep of hypnosis, this sensitiveness and\nactivity of the subconscious gradually emerges. The normal sleep, or as\nIamblichus calls it--\"The night-time of the body\"--is, to continue his\nremark, \"the day-time of the soul.\" Thus it is so often in the Bible\nstories that we find the phrase--\"The Lord--or the Angel of the\nLord--appeared, in a dream.\" These waves of thought and Inspiration are\ncontinually lapping the margin of our subconscious selves, both by day\nand by night, leaving the dream-traces of their impress as the ripple\nleaves its marks upon the sand. It is the connection between this\nunder-mind and the consciousness that is so frequently at fault, so that\nwe remain unaware of the tidings. Usually the consciousness is kept so\nbusily engaged that it never has a minute to itself, and so peace,\nquiet, and receptivity are unknown. The subconscious tries hard to get\nin its modest word occasionally and edgeways, but the consciousness\nrarely stops talking: the whole business is one-sided. Plenty of\nmaterial goes from the consciousness to the subconscious, but\ncomparatively little is able to come in the reverse direction.\n\nThis, of course, is a distorted method of existing: there should ever be\nin the mind a process corresponding to the in-breathing and\nout-breathing of the lungs. The active and acquisitive consciousness\nprocures the mental food: the subconscious stores this up, assimilates\nit, and turns it into a kind of inner mentor or conscience which in due\ncourse issues its orders and offers its advice. But just as we are said\nto stifle the \"still, small voice,\" so also do we strangle our possible\ninventions and discoveries, and so do we cause our inspirations to\nremain still-born. This is the price we pay for our mad rush after the\nthings that do not matter. We have said that no aspirant ever lacks a\nteacher, but we would further say that when a person is content to make\nuse of the subconscious powers he possesses, he will find that the\nknowledge and the inspiration he earnestly seeks will be granted him.\n\"With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of\njoy, we see into the heart of things.\"[10] The acorn is already in the\ngarden of the mind, we need only to provide the requisite conditions for\ngrowth, and the oak tree will then follow as a matter of course.\n\n[Note 10: Wordsworth.]\n\nThings grow and fashion themselves in this under-mind, as the novelist\nand dramatist will testify. The artist finds his picture forming itself\nbefore his inner vision, and so the musician hears his composition. \"It\ncomes,\" they say: so does the oak. But like the oak it can only come\nwhen conditions allow, and one of the main conditions is that the\nconsciousness should not rule the roost, and hold sway and dominance to\nthe exclusion and smothering of the still, small voice. \"Be still, and\nknow.\"\n\nMany things and conditions clog communication from the under-mind to the\nconsciousness. The well-being of the body is of the utmost importance: a\nclogged and constipated body is no medium for inspiration. High living\nkills the genius of inspiration, and masterpieces are more often\nproduced in the garret than where luxury rules. Success is an even\ngreater test of true genius than is poverty. A bilious attack will put a\nstop to the most perfervid outpourings of genius, and a common cold in\nthe nose will play havoc with a work of Art. An unstable temperament\nwill have its moments of exaltation and its hours of despair: this is\nsensitiveness uncontrolled. Sensitiveness is indeed the stock-in-trade\nof all who work in the temple of Art, but unless it be controlled by\nreins of more than ordinary strength it is a very doubtful blessing. We\nmust ever be able to keep our souls in tune so that they afford no echo\nto the undesirable. Indulgence of the body in any form hampers its work\nas an instrument of the spirit, while self-discipline (tho' by no means\nto the verge of asceticism) increases its sensitiveness, and occasional\nquiet periods afford the opportunity for the subconscious treasures to\nreveal themselves.\n\nOn the mental side, selfishness is one of the most complete and\neffectual deadeners of inspiration. The delicate intimations of finer\nthings can make no impression on a hide-bound mind. As Trine somewhere\nputs it--\"The man who is always thinking of himself generally looks as\nif he were thinking of something disagreeable.\" The self-centred mind is\na mind closed to other things, and to this extent it is nearly always\nunbalanced and distorted. Under these conditions such inspiration as it\nmay receive is liable to be of an uncouth and bizarre nature. Hatred,\nmalice, and all uncharitableness tune the mind to very undesirable\nlevels, and at this level it will come in touch with the whole body of\nsimilar undesirable thought that is circulating around it. It both gives\nout and receives. Such a mind is indeed doing active work in the world,\nbut in the wrong direction. Nevertheless, the individual who sets\nhimself to work positively and constructively to utilise inspiration, as\nit assuredly may be used, is in some degree helping his generation and\nbecoming a prophet, and maybe a saviour.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nTHE INTERPRETER\n\n\"I like joy, for it is life. I preach joy, for it alone gives the\npower of creating useful and lasting work\"\n\n_Jaques Dalcroze_\n\n\nThere are, roughly speaking, three classes of interpreters in Music:\nperformers or executants, composers, and teachers. The function of each\nof these is, by a special sensitiveness, to apprehend the message of\nspirit, and then, by their own technique and in their own particular\nway, to pass it on for the benefit of others. In the body the nervous\nsystem, which is the link between spirit and matter, serves somewhat the\nsame purpose. Spirit is too tenuous to be able to act directly upon the\ncomparatively inert matter of the body, but through the medium of the\nbrain and nervous system it makes contact with spirit at the one end,\nand at the other the nerves control the muscular system, which effects\nthe necessary and desired movements. Thus the spirit in music is sensed\nby the artist in solitude and communion, and is given out by him to the\nmultitude in public.\n\nThe artist thus necessarily has two sides to his work, the inner and the\nouter, the artistic and the technical. No amount of technique alone will\never make an artist, nor will artistic or spiritual perception by itself\nenable the message to secure adequate treatment. Both sides are\nindispensable. But there has been far too much worship of mere technique\nin Music, until at times even the fact that there has been any message\nat all has been overlooked. In times, happily now gone by, a simple\nmelody which perhaps by itself might have conveyed a homely message, has\nbeen smothered under showers of variations, decked out in wearisome\narpeggios, and entangled in meaningless scales, until it has reminded\none of nothing so much as a vulgar and greatly over-dressed woman: and\nyet this has been looked upon as music. Technique is indeed necessary,\nbut only as a means to an end. Directly it begins to obscure the\nmeaning, or is developed for its own sake without reference to its task,\nit is missing the mark. It puts itself on a par with the stupidity that\nleads a man to undertake to play the piano for twenty-four hours without\nstopping.\n\nSo many hours' scales per diem would be warranted to drive the spirit of\nmusic to distraction: the utmost perfection in scales does not of\nnecessity lead to any illuminating message. It cannot be too strongly\nurged that the feeling and the emotion are the real things, and that the\nobject of technique is simply that these may be expressed in the best\nand most intelligible manner. Indeed the artist himself is secondary in\nimportance to the message, it is the spirit that works in and through\nhim that must ever come first. The true artist never seeks to obtrude,\nor to make his own personality the first thing. He will, of course,\nendeavour to make his technique fully equal to all demands that can be\nmade of him, but he will realise that he is doing his work in trust. \"No\nMAN ever did any great work yet: he became a free channel through which\nthe eternal powers moved.\"[11] In thus working the artist shines, as\ndoes the electric bulb, by reason of the unlimited power which according\nto his own measure may flow through him: and this limitless power may be\nrelied upon to secure its own effect, if only the steward be faithful.\n\n[Note 11: Newlandsmith. \"The Temple of Art.\"]\n\nContrast the work done in this spirit with that accomplished under the\nstimulus of financial gain, or for the end of mere selfish display. The\nlatter is a species of artistic prostitution. Superficially the\nperformances may seem something alike, the difference may be intangible,\nbut it exists and is real. Time is ever the winnower. Things always\nprove their survival value, that is to say the real things last, while\nthe shams are sooner or later extinguished. It is necessary, no doubt,\nto make a living, no one will be so foolish as to overlook this\nelementary fact: but the mere aim of making a living only too often\nobscures the actual meaning of life. Balanced and informed views of life\nwork, through a law of consonance, to ensure a corresponding equilibrium\nin the outer circumstances: in other words, if we seek first the inner\nKingdom, all these things, financial means and so forth, will be added.\nBut there are thousands who drive for the financial and other incidental\nends, and as a matter of fact miss the Kingdom entirely. To find the\npersonal centre of gravity in the world is to master life, to fail to\nfind it is to be mastered by life.\n\nA performance that has self as its central motive can never ring true or\nachieve any lasting success. Inferior music may be decked out by a\ncapable performer to sound impressive or pretentious, or be invested\nwith a glamour which is largely fictitious, but this surely amounts to\nfalse pretences. It is simply a method of misleading the public. Such a\nperformer has misconceived his function, which should be to act as\ninterpreter, guide, philosopher, and friend to those who follow his\nefforts. What is to be said to the singer of royalty ballads? Here is a\nvocalist who receives, maybe, two or three guineas for each dozen times\nhe sings particular songs, the publisher of the song in question being\nhis paymaster. Of this type of song a contemporary Musical Journal\nstates:--\"Every serious musician knows it, and, scenting the boredom,\ntries to avoid it. It is highly sentimental, it moves within a limited\nscope, emotionally and technically, and it deals with a few well-worn\nsubjects. Gardens, spring, sunshine, flowers--these are favourite\nthemes. If only, the singer tells us, he could have a cottage on the\nhillside, with honeysuckle round the door (this appears to be of great\nimportance), heaven would indeed be there.\" These MAY be compositions of\nartistic worth, in which case financial gain and true musical interest\nconsort together: but on the other hand they may NOT. Which, then, is to\nreceive the first consideration? Is the artist to refuse the guineas\nbecause the ballad possesses no intrinsic worth, or is he to pocket the\ncash and deck out with all the devices of his Art the twopenny-ha'penny\nshop-tune, and make it sound something like the real thing? No doubt\nunder these circumstances the song may achieve a certain measure of\nappreciation. Some of the audience will buy it, and only when they come\nto try it at home will they realise what feeble stuff it truly is. The\nartist has been paid to betray those who trusted in him and followed his\ntaste. In this he may have been eminently successful, but what is the\nvalue of such success? And what of Art--and Music?\n\nWherein is the particular glory of a top note, or the specific value of\na compass that extends a note-and-a-half beyond that of anyone else? Why\nshould it be considered meritorious to be able to bang louder or to\nscramble more quickly over the keys than one's competitors? Yet we have\ncertainly met singers and players who gloried in such accomplishments. A\nperformer may also know every device and trick of the trade, he may be\nwell aware of what will go down with his audience, he may play up to all\ntheir little foibles and weaknesses and give them exactly what they\nwant: we can indeed scarcely quarrel with this. But so many are\napparently content to allow the matter to remain on this lowly level. A\nsinger who is thus able to play upon his audience and hold them in his\ngrip can surely also lead them up to the appreciation of better things.\n\nAn audience is normally receptive and impressionable, they come\nexpecting to receive satisfaction and enjoyment for the money they have\nexpended in the purchase of a ticket, or because they have some other\ninterest in the proceedings. Presumably if they were not interested they\nwould not be there. This element of expectation stimulates their\nreceptivity, and aids the performer in his work of giving out. Whatever\nthe audience receives, by the mere fact of its making some impression on\nthe delicate nerve-stuff of the brain, is retained and becomes actually\na part of them. Thus the artist is definitely building the minds of his\naudience: he is forming their taste, and giving them that material in\nmind which will enable them to enjoy and understand music the better for\nthe future. He is passing on the message according to his ability.\nTherefore that individual who is merely seeking for compass, technique,\npress notices, or his fee, shows that he has not appreciated the\nelements of his task. Being thus in search of all the things that really\ndo not matter, he is putting himself into a position that will ensure\nhim a more or less comfortable mediocrity, provide he is lucky enough\nto escape actual failure.\n\nWe call to mind a press criticism that appeared in a first-class London\ndaily newspaper, with reference to a singer quite unknown to fame. It\nstated that \"every note was pure joy.\" Could one say anything finer than\nthis, and would not anything added to it but serve to spoil it? It\nepitomises what we have here been endeavouring to express. There could\nbe no \"pure joy\" apart from spirit, and in giving this forth in song the\nsinger achieved the aim of Art. This joy would become part of the life\nof those who heard her, because it can never be too clearly understood\nthat we are built of our memories, and though we seem to forget, yet\nthese memories are absolute. So the joy that the singer gave out went to\ngladden the world, and that which she gave, paradoxically enough,\nremained with her. That which we express, by the record of that\nexpression we tend to become.\n\nHerein the personality of the interpreter counts for much. The music, it\nis true, carries its own meaning and message, but this is reinforced by\nthe mediumship and the imagination of the performer. \"Imagination is the\nlife of art. Why so many performers give such little pleasure and leave\nthe audience coldly critical is simply because their imagination is of\nthe feeblest.\"[12] Necessarily there is always a certain coloration from\nthe mind which transmits the message, just as the tones of two violins\nthough played by the same hand might be different. Moreover, as a\nresonant instrument would amplify the sound and an inferior one would\nhamper it, so a greater artist would interpret a message to more effect\nthan one less capable. The gramophone will give us the actual notes of\nthe singer, but it depends upon ourselves as to whether we catch the\nreal thing or not. What is actually there is the shell: there is no\npersonality unless we ourselves build up that personality of the singer\nin our imagination. We must supply that which the machine lacks, or else\nperforce go without. When the artist is present in person we need no\neffort of the imagination, and though the machine can give us a personal\nrendering it can never offer us the personality. In much the same way\nthe mechanical piano-player may give So-and-so's exact rendering if only\nwe follow the requisite directions, but it is impossible for it to be\nthe same. Two things seem alike, but one is stuffed, and the other\nhollow.\n\n[Note 12: Lancelot, in the \"Referee.\"]\n\nPersonality, then, must always be a vital factor since it colours and\nvitalises, as well as reinforces the meaning of the music. Spirit is a\nfact, but a beautiful personality will invest it with all the glamour of\nromance. The emotion may be \"pure joy\" but it needs a warm heart to give\nit out to full effect to a coldish world. Consequently, for the beauty\nto shine through, the artist's personality must be finely wrought. A\nselfish soul might sing a love-song, but a woman would not be taken in\nby it--unless she thought twice: it would not ring true enough. Beauty\nlies in the heart of all worthy music, so the artist who studies it and\nlives in its atmosphere gradually builds that beauty into the life and\nthe character: the mere expression henceforth makes it part of him\nthrough memory. So, beautiful thoughts are needful food to the mind of\nthe artist, and no amount of cleverness in the simulation of this or\nthat emotion will ever enable the same effect to be produced, as when\nbeauty is reinforced by beauty. Personality counts beyond all\ncalculation.\n\nThe music that is written shows whether its composer was an artist or a\nmechanic in music. \"The spirit of anything which a man makes, or does,\nis his nature expressed in those things, and the fineness or poorness of\nhis work and actions depends upon the way in which he feels or\nthinks.\"[13] The academic writer, steeped in his contrapuntal devices\nand harmonic progressions, so intent upon the orthodox resolution of his\ndiscords, is apt to produce excellent dry bones without the informing\nspirit. We have even heard it stated that no music publisher would deign\nto consider for publication a song manuscript with Mus. Doc. on the\ntitle page. Yet Parry's books of \"English Lyrics\" stand as permanent\ntestimony that scholarly music may also contain the emotional and\nspiritual elements to infuse it with abundant life: the pity is that the\ncombination is none too frequent. \"A vast proportion of what is printed\nand sold as music... is meaningless, and therefore worthless.\"[14] Such\nmusic as is composed, or selected, for popular consumption is frankly\nwritten for this purpose of pot-boiling, and as such it settles its own\nfate. We need waste no tears upon it. Nor need we devote much\nconsideration to the sentimental ballads issued by the hundred, for \"if\nmusic has no further function than to appeal to the emotions, then it is\nnothing better than melodious nonsense.\"[15] Of the dance and other\nmiscellaneous music issued broadcast some, no doubt, is genuine music,\nbut the greater part of it is avowedly commercial in tone and intention:\nin any spiritual scale its weight is of the lightest.\n\n[Note 13: Leigh Henry. \"Music.\"]\n\n[Note 14: Sir Henry Hadow.]\n\n[Note 15: Sir Henry Hadow.]\n\nThe interpreter who works in collaboration with others, the choral\nsinger or the orchestral performer, should be bound by the same canons\nof Art as the soloist. A chorus does not merely consist of a certain\nnumber of voices, any more than eleven football players constitute a\nteam. Even the footballers must have their technique and must play with\ntheir heads as well as their feet: but to ensure success they must\nindividually have subordinated their personal interests to that of the\nteam, they must play in the spirit of the game. Equally so a choral\nsinger must first have the vocal ability, then the intelligence, and\nfurthermore the spiritual vision. His individual aims must also be\nsubordinated in \"team play,\" so that collectively, as individually in\nthe case of the soloist, the purport of the music may find its due\nexpression.\n\nThe one point to be emphasised is that, in whatever capacity the\nexponent and interpreter of Art be concerned, the paramount\nconsideration must be the transmission of the artistic impulse. People\ndo not send telegrams flying about the country except for the purpose\nof conveying a message: in the absence of a message there is, naturally,\nno telegram. It would be a step in the right direction if it were\ngenerally recognised that Art-work should be based upon somewhat the\nsame substantial and bed-rock foundation.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nTHE TEACHER\n\n\"The teachers of this country have its future in their hands\"\n\n_William James_\n\n\nIdeas on the subject of the teaching of Music are changing at such a\nrapid rate to-day that the position of the teacher as an interpreter may\nwell receive some consideration. The study of psychology and the many\nnew discoveries in the realm of mind bid fair to revolutionise our\nconception of teaching: the old standards are fast becoming obsolete.\nOnce the idea of education was more or less to get something into the\npupil, the newer ideal is to get something out: instead of compression\nor repression the process is now regarded as one of expression. We aim\nat developing the latent faculties and exploiting the hidden resources\nof the mind. It is assumed that the various qualities and abilities are\nembodied in mind, just as the possibilities of the oak were implanted\nin the acorn: it is the function of the teacher to ensure the requisite\nconditions under which these qualities may come to fruition.\n\nFrom this it is clear that the modern teacher is more occupied in\nteaching the pupil than the subject. The old method of grinding in\nscales, scales, and yet more scales until those scales had become second\nnature is recognised as being worse than merely futile. What can it\nprofit a pupil if he gain the whole world of scales and lose his\nartistic soul? So also with other points, the centre of attention is\ntransferred from the subject to the pupil. Furthermore, the wise teacher\nrecognises that as music is a part of life, so the understanding of\nmusic should lead to a larger comprehension of life. There are no\nwatertight compartments in our lives, everything is acted upon and\nreacts: all life is of a piece, and nothing comes out of the mind in\nexactly the same condition as it entered. Things become transformed and\nassimilated in the process of mental digestion. Consequently the\ndiscerning teacher knows that he is working in terms of life through the\nagency of the music. He is helping to modify, form, or transform the\nmind of the pupil through his memories, he is moulding his character:\nand his character weighs in the eternal scales. The teaching thus\nstands on a base that is wider than life itself, and such a teacher is\ninvested with a dignity and worth that can never attach to the\ntime-server or the crammer.\n\nThe Royal Academy of Music gives the Licentiate diploma for (_a_)\nteachers and (_b_) performers: this is a technical distinction without\nany real difference. It is the function of both alike to reveal and to\npass on a message of spirit. The performer passes it on to an audience\nof many, and the teacher to a little audience of one. Teachers are\n\"artists to whom the most priceless material has been committed.\"[16]\nThere is an idea abroad that those who are not clever enough to perform\ncan always take to teaching, but this is of course a lamentable\nperversion of the truth. There are diversities of gifts, but the same\nspirit, and certainly as high a degree of spiritual perception is\nnecessary for the teacher as for the executive artist. The teacher has\nmerely chosen a different technique for its expression. Not so many\nyears ago the teaching profession was known as \"the refuge of the\ndestitute,\" but we are changing all that with the revaluation of values\nwhich is being forced upon us by the logic of events. In course of time\nthe old type of teacher must become as extinct as the dodo.\n\n[Note 16: Canon J. H. Masterman.]\n\nEffective teaching can never be done to pattern, for the simple reason\nthat pupils are not machines or blocks of wood and cannot be turned out\nto sample. Every pupil is unique: he is the inheritor of a spirit which\nis peculiarly his own, and of a body in its endowments and proportions\nunlike that of anyone else, and in his nervous system he possesses\nspecial pre-dispositions and \"potentially linked paths\" which provide\nhim with particular adaptabilities and traits. Were the teacher to treat\nevery pupil alike, his scheme would probably truly fit none of them: but\nas a matter of fact each one of them calls for insight and special\ntreatment. So the teacher learns from every pupil, and the experience\ngarnered from contact with the many phases of human nature renders his\njudgment the surer and his sympathy the more sound. But this, quite\nobviously, is mind-moulding and character-building, with the emphasis\nlaid upon the teaching of the pupil rather than the subject.\n\nThe three generally accepted divisions of mind are (_a_) intellect;\n(_b_) feelings; and (_c_) will; and in these directions the teaching of\nmusic should have far-reaching effects upon the culture and the outlook.\nObservation is the root of all mental growth: it supplies the mind with\nthe necessary food for development and expansion, and according to the\nrange and definiteness of the evidence supplied by the senses, so is the\nfoundation laid for a good memory and a lively quality of imagination.\nThe earliest lessons will thus be a stimulus to mental growth: the pupil\nwill learn to take in by the eye and the ear, and what he takes in will\nenable him to understand and to appreciate more and yet more. He will be\ntaught that everything in music means something, and even exercises will\nbe invested with a meaning and a purpose of their own. Purely mechanical\nwork has gone, never, we may hope, to return: and meaningless music is\ndiscarded in favour of that which expresses something. It may illustrate\na mood or an emotion, a scene, an action, or a fairy tale--it matters\nnot what so long as it possesses a meaning to lend it point and purpose.\nSo right from the beginning the action of the pupil will be the\nexpression of the emotions and ideas that hold sway in his mind.\n\nIn this connection we may quote an actual instance. A teacher\nwrites:--\"A young pupil (age 14) came for a lesson, playing Farjeon's\n'Prelude and Pavane.' She had learnt the 'Prelude,' and had had one\nlesson, a fortnight before, on the 'Pavane.' We went through the\ntechnique, and I told her a little about the 'Pavane'--when it was\ndanced, the derivation of the name, and so on. When she played it, she\nplayed it very, very slowly, but quite correctly and finished in detail.\nI asked her if she liked it quite as slowly as that, and she replied\nthat she thought 'the Court ladies with their long dresses would not be\nable to dance any quicker' and that it 'sounded grander very slowly.' So\nI left it.\" This, we may add, is an illustration of method quoted by a\nteacher in a diploma Examination paper, but it aptly shows the new\nspirit. The teacher had no mind to force her own views upon the pupil.\nHad she insisted that the dance should be played more quickly, she might\nhave spoiled the child's mental picture and destroyed her interest in\nthe piece. The incident also points the way in which the pupil's\nobservation, imagination, and powers of deduction were being stimulated,\nso that, as we have been endeavouring to show, the music--of value for\nits own sake--was also ministering to the larger end of life-growth.\n\nThe world of affairs and the world of education see to it that our\nintellect and will are duly and properly brushed up, they exact their\npenalties in default from the stupid and the invertebrate, but the\nfeeling and emotional side of the nature is too often ignored. It is\nleft to develop by chance instead of being nurtured by design. As a\nconsequence a vast amount of distorted feeling exists in the world, and\na very great deal of emotion is repressed. Music is at once a means of\ncultivating the rightful feelings towards life, and an outlet for the\nrepressed emotions. The interpreter recognises that his true function is\nto serve his day and his generation, and so he places this ideal of\nService in the forefront of his vision. If he substitute Selfishness he\nis permanently wrongly adjusted to life, and nothing can go truly right\nwith him. He is off the lines of his spiritual evolution, and Nature\nwill take pains to impress the fact upon him: she has her larger vision\nto which he must, willy-nilly, conform. The teacher, in handing on the\ntorch, will thus be able at the very outset to point to this ideal of\nService, exemplified in finding out the beauty or the meaning of the\nmusic, and in passing it on for the benefit of others in song or sound.\n\nRepressed emotions are now recognised as a potent source of trouble,\nboth mental and physical. In the adolescent stage of youth vital forces\nsurge through the body, they are perhaps indefinable but they are none\nthe less potent. \"The emotions are there, and it is for us to find the\nway in which we can best turn them upward: the time has passed when we\nneed or can deny their existence, or their expression.\"[17] These\nemotions cannot be permanently repressed, they are too deeply embedded\nin the self: they may find an outlet in the amours of youth, or in some\nother way. But music offers a means and a channel through which these\nemotions may flow in useful direction, and this is a most valuable\nservice. Failing legitimate expression they not infrequently find an\ninappropriate or distorted outlet. There is discord within, and it is\nfar better that the discord should be resolved harmoniously rather than\nill, or not at all. The study of music at this period may thus result in\nmarked benefit to the physical health in a perfectly natural manner: for\nto forbid any expression to these emotions would be much as if we\nforbade a canary to sing or a lambkin to jump. If they can be reflected\nin \"pure joy\" in song we may indeed be sure that the outlet they are\nfinding is a happy one. The subject is a very important one, but it\nleads us far afield from the present scheme. The reader who is\ninterested may find further treatment of this topic in the present\nwriter's \"The Hidden Self, and its Mental Processes.\"\n\n[Note 17: Ernest Hunt. \"The Hidden Self.\"]\n\nThe modern teacher has progressed beyond the stage of imposing his own\nstandard of judgment upon the pupil. By introducing the element of\nmusical appreciation and making the pupil familiar with a wide range of\nmusical ideas, he will gradually build up his power of discrimination\nand judgment and his standard of taste. These are no fixed things, but\nwill grow as the experience of the pupil himself grows. As his sympathy\nand insight also increase, so will his knowledge of the good and evil of\nmusic progress. This is a vastly different process to any arbitrary\nenforcement of \"this is good and that is bad\" standards, and indeed it\nis but a poor compliment to any teacher when we find pupil after pupil a\nmore or less complete imitation of the same original.\n\nOne thing that is conspicuously lacking in the world to-day is the\nability to be one's self. Suggestion and habit are ever at work to kill\noriginality and to stifle self-reliance and initiative. Thousands can\ncopy, few can invent. The reason may be that only the few are able and\nwilling to go to the fountain-head of spirit, where there is the\ninfinite variety of universal thought to be their inspiration. The many\nare content to live their teachers' ideas over and over again, building\ntheir lives and abilities on quite ordinary models in a quite ordinary\nway. In music we already possess far too many \"dittos,\" ditto\nprogrammes, ditto compositions, ditto renderings, and ditto ideals.\nPraise the Lord for originality wherever it may be found. The\nconventional goes round and round in a circle, like a puppy after its\nown tail: but originality rises at each revolution and so reaches on and\nup, in progress like a spiral. So to-day the teacher fosters\noriginality, shaping it with kindly criticism or helpful suggestion, but\nnever damning it with a fatal \"don't.\" Education's maxim to-day is \"Do;\nbut do better next time.\"\n\nIn this larger view of teaching, the technique, though not despised and\nrejected, is relegated to its proper place in the scheme of things. The\ncult of the head and the heart predominates, and the whole course of the\ninstruction is an integral part of the training for life. If it be true\nthat we are making \"houses built without hands, for our souls to live\nin,\" then music is determining no small part of the architecture for the\nstudent who follows the gleam. The inspired teacher (and, without the\nvision, teaching must ever be the veriest drudgery) is engaged upon one\nof the noblest of tasks as well as one of the most responsible. We may\neven hope that one day the world will awaken to this fact. Incidentally\nteachers themselves, by thinking more nobly of their tasks, can do much\nto dignify their calling. They are truly in the van of progress, and\n\"with the power of the Spirit almost untried and the possibilities of\nPrayer as little known, with the inheritance of Love still unclaimed and\nthe ocean of Truth yet unexplored, life is full of an immensity of\npurpose.\"[18]\n\n[Note 18: Kirkham Davis. \"Where dwells the Soul Serene.\"]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nTHE SOUL OF SONG\n\n   \"All the hearts of men were softened\n    By the pathos of his music:\n    For he sang of peace and freedom,\n    Sang of beauty, love, and longing:\n    Sang of death, and life undying\n    In the Islands of the Blessed,\n    In the Kingdom of Ponemah,\n    In the land of the Hereafter.\"\n\n   _Longfellow_\n\n\nThe power to sing is innate in practically everybody, and the number of\npeople who are actually incapable of any musical expression through the\nvoice is really very small. Suggestion plays an important part in this\nmatter, for there are few children having mothers or nurses who sing to\nthem who fail to pick up and imitate that singing. The reason is fairly\nclear, because every idea in mind tends to pass into action unless\nsomething intervenes to stop it: consequently the child having the idea\nof singing in mind, simply from having heard others sing, has the\ninitial impulse to song. As he gradually acquires the control and\nco-ordination of his faculties, song will follow as a matter of course.\nOn the other hand if the child never hears anyone sing, from where is\nthe motor impulse to come?\n\nThose good people who boast that they cannot sing have very often, by\nthe simple denial of their ability, ensured a kind of mental atrophy in\nthe function. It is quite a usual thing for us to fasten unnecessary\nlimitations upon ourselves by refusing to believe in our own powers, and\nmost of us have a large stock of very real inhibitions, which prevent us\nfrom doing things otherwise well within our capacity. If we do not\nbelieve we can do a thing, as a rule we do not try: or if we try, it is\nin a half-hearted, beaten-before-we-start kind of fashion. Thus we find\nthat as a matter of experience things generally do turn out for us\naccording to our belief. It is in this spirit that a man professes\nhimself unable to tell the difference between the National Anthem and\n\"Pop goes the Weasel.\" There are cases, of course, where the individual\nmay be able to distinguish the tunes mentally, and yet may be unable to\nsing them correctly, or even to vary the tones of the voice according to\nthe desired pattern: in this case the fault probably lies in a lack of\nthe power of co-ordinating the various activities. The necessary\nassociations between the hearing centres and the motor centres for the\ncontrol of voice have not been built up. But they can be so built, and\nthen the inability to sing vanishes. A person who can speak has the\nnecessary machinery for song, and to say that one has \"no voice\" is\nmostly nonsense.\n\nMany people possess quite good voices until they learn singing. Their\nnatural aptitude, which so largely depends upon the models they may have\nhad for imitation in the earliest days, is possibly quite excellent.\nThen comes the Voice Specialist on the scene with his pet theories for\nimproving upon Nature, and he gets busy. He may have his ideas upon\n\"breaks,\" registers, and a thousand other details. Perhaps he has\nwritten a book on the way in which Nature has made a botch of the voice,\ncreating it in a number of sections like a fishing rod, specially to\nprovide an interesting and lucrative profession for the voice trainer.\nOn the other hand he may be wise enough to thank Heaven when he finds a\ngood natural voice, and leave it alone. Voices when naturally used have\nbeauty, ease, compass, and an even tone without break throughout: this,\nwe assert, in spite of the fact that many a famous contralto possesses\napparently two voices, so marked is the break. There is a technical\nalteration of the working of the vocal chords at a certain pitch, but\nwith a rightly-used voice this is automatic and unfelt: the whole body\nis full of such wonderful adjustments. To be called upon to deal\nconsciously with such details is generally proof that they have gone\nwrong. Your attention to your digestion is enforced by dyspepsia: nobody\nnotices a perfectly acting digestion.\n\nSome voices are expressive and carry emotion easily, while others are\nhard and inelastic. Some correspondence in the temperament will nearly\nalways be found. Therefore the teacher who works at the voice (which is\na means of expression of the temperament) without touching the inner\ncharacteristics, is like the man who tries to make an ill-regulated\nclock keep time by altering the hands. Lack of tone colour is not to be\ncured by cultivating a number of different sizes and shapes for the\nmouth and a selection of assorted smiles for the features. If a person\nfeels sad, he will talk sadly. Carrying the same principle into song, we\nfind that a voice naturally shows the timbre appropriate to the mood.\nTherefore in order to ensure proper tone colour the prime requisite is\nimagination and the ability vividly to call up and experience the\nvarious emotions. It will be evident that we are endeavouring to impart\ninto vocal work precisely those same principles which we assert to be\nfundamental to the whole of music, namely--the importance of the idea as\nbehind, distinct from, and manifested through, the technical means. The\nvocal machinery must necessarily be in first-class order, but the\ninfluence of the mind upon the body is so intimate and so extraordinary\nthat even technical acquirement hangs to no small extent upon mental\nworking.\n\nSeeing that song, then, is to be the vehicle for emotion, even though\nthat emotion be so tenuous as almost to defy verbal expression, for the\nmost part we ally words and music. The timbre of a voice, singing tones\nwithout words, might carry a message to the sensitive, just as the\ninflection of a voice may be exquisite joy or suffering to a lover: but\nit would be insufficient to move the average hearer to any response. The\nreason is that there is always a dual process at work in mind: there is\nthe sense-perception of the actual sound, and a brain-recognition of its\nmeaning. This latter must be supplied by the hearer himself from his own\nimagination or experience. The non-musical multitude has neither, and is\ntherefore unable to complete this second process of recognition. Thus\nthe hearer hears, but does not understand. It is probably for some such\nreason as this that we resort to words to make the message clear. Herein\nlies the importance of the words themselves, and of the diction of the\nsinger.\n\nQuite notoriously, many singers entirely fail to make their words\nintelligible to the listener, and in the majority of cases this is due\nto insufficient stressing of the consonants. Vowel tones carry, while\nconsonants do not. If we want to shout to anyone we call out \"Hi\" or\n\"Hey\": never by any chance do we try to reach them with a \"P-p-p-p-p\" or\na \"T-t-t-t-t,\" and for precisely this reason. If, therefore, a singer\nwishes his words to carry to the end of the hall he must needs\nexaggerate his consonants to allow for this loss in transit: the vowels\nwill look after themselves. Then, although the balance of the words as\nthey are uttered may be a trifle distorted, they will nevertheless reach\nthe hearers in due proportion. Comfort in listening is greatly increased\nwhen this sense-perception is clear and unambiguous, and the\nbrain-recognition is easy by reason of a certain familiarity. When the\nsense-perception is blurred, as in faulty diction, extra work is thrown\non to the brain: listening then becomes a strain, and the brain is\nfatigued with supplying the details which it supposes the singer to\nhave intended. The listener has, as it were, to put in his consonants\nfor him, to dot his \"i's\" and cross his \"t's.\"\n\nSome singers distort their vowel sounds almost beyond recognition, and\nmany pupils seem to be definitely taught to adopt the habit. Then \"and\"\nbecomes \"awnd,\" and the various words take on new disguises after the\nreputed Oxford model of \"He that hath yaws to yaw, let him yaw.\" Singing\nis but glorified speech, it is not a thing apart, neither is there one\nlanguage of the speaker and another of the vocalist. This distortion may\nbe due to affectation or to ignorance, but in either case we could well\ndo without it. In cases where the actual production of the voice is\nmechanically stiff, rigid, and therefore distorted, it is not likely\nthat we can secure a free and flexible musical elocution. We do\noccasionally meet singers whose diction is delightful to hear because of\nits absolute freedom and complete naturalness, but these only serve to\nheighten by their excellence the shortcomings of the many.\n\nConsideration of the manner in which the words are put forth leads us to\nthe matter of the words themselves. It is difficult to find even a\nmodicum of meaning, to say nothing of spirit, in much of the verse that\nachieves musical setting to-day. A critic in a London Daily some time\nback inquired if all our native poets were paralysed, the query being\nsuggested by an examination of a representative batch of songs. But the\npoet is hardly to blame for the present state of affairs. In the wedding\nof words and music, the usual routine is for the author of the lyric to\nsubmit his effort to the composer for his consideration. The composer\nwill neither select nor waste his time in setting the better class of\nverse because, as he says, the publishers will not look at it. The\npublishers will not print and issue it because, so they say, the public\nwill not purchase it. The public might very well retort that they get\nprecious little chance to listen to it, since royalty ballads come\nfirst: nor to come in contact with it, for the ordinary dealer does not\nstock it. There, then, is the vicious circle quite complete. But the\npoets are not paralysed, they are merely inarticulate by reason of this\ncommercialisation of Art. At the best of times the average lyric author\nhas a difficult and somewhat heart-breaking task to dispose of his\nwares, and we need not further harrow his artistic soul by suggestions\nof literary impotence.\n\nIt must, however, be admitted that on the whole there is an\nextraordinary poverty and bareness of idea and inspiration in the\ngeneral run of songs: neither Nature nor Love are themes that can ever\nbe finally exhausted while human nature remains as it is, but the\ntreatment can be so stereotyped that it eventually wears threadbare. It\nis possible to become thoroughly weary of roses and gardens, and gardens\nof roses, gardens without roses, and gardens where we hope there will be\nroses. It is such a pity, too, that there are so few rhymes to \"love.\"\nYet even in dissatisfaction there exists the element of progress: if we\nare bored with the present style we shall demand something better, and\nthe demand will create the supply. But to swing from bareness and\nboredom to the other extreme of abstruseness and complexity is no\nremedy: in these latter qualities there exists no special compensating\nvirtue. Listening to a song as it is sung is very different to reading\nthe verse at leisure. The sense of the song must be caught as it flies,\nthe verse can be read and re-read if necessary, until its meaning be\nclear. It is no progress, therefore, to worship the turgid and obscure,\nwhether in words or music, or both. We may pretend that we appreciate\nthings because we cannot understand them, but that is only a concession\nto convention and a convenient way of smothering artistic conscience.\n\nOf late an outcry has arisen, on the part of wise men in exalted\nstation, about \"beastly tunes,\" but surely if a tune can attain\nsufficient popularity to earn the picturesque adjectives of the\nacademic, there must be some element in it which has escaped the\nattention of its detractors. The Southern Syncopated Orchestra, which\nplayed for some lengthy period in London a little while back, showed\nthat popular music might yet be extremely clever and artistic in scope\nand performance. There were high-brow musicians who would not even go to\nlisten to such, but preferred to condemn it unheard: the loss was\nemphatically that of the high-brows. Humour abounded in this little band\nof performers on such a strange array of instruments, and it appeared as\nif the players enjoyed their work no less, at any rate, than their\naudience. Yet their programme was full of \"tunes.\" Is any tune in itself\n\"beastly\"? Or is it that the brain-recognition, to which we have\nalluded, decks out the tune in sordid or sweet trappings according to\nits own nature? We certainly know that in other directions we are apt to\nsee things according to the colour of our own mental vision.\n\nThese tunes, however, that have become so popular, have the three\nessentials of music strongly marked: they have decided rhythm,\nattractive melody, and harmony at times quite good. Are we to try and\nattract the multitude to music by muddling up or emasculating rhythm, or\nby eschewing melody and banishing anything that intrigues the ear, and\nby supplying an harmonic scheme that awakens no brain-recognition and\ncannot in consequence be understood? Well, the conventional suburbanite\nmay gush over such indeterminate and invertebrate music, saying, \"Yes,\nisn't it just too lovely,\" but the rough and tumble individuals who make\nup most of the world will plump for the \"tune\" every time. Give him what\nhe wants, and then induce him to want something better, but avoid the\nmistake of trying to turn him into a musical vegetarian while his\nmeat-eating appetite has no liking for the diet.\n\nThe incongruity of some of the songs we hear sung is truly appalling: we\nfind a charming maid, love for whom might honour any man yet born,\nsinging \"Less than the dust,... even less am I,\" and so on. Lies, all\nlies, even though she lie melodically with charm and with apparent\nconviction. We have passionate love-songs sung by guileless individuals\nwho would be inexpressibly shocked if you explained to them the meaning\nof the sentiment to which they had been giving utterance. There are\noperatic scenas, dealing with abduction and all sorts of uncomfortable\nsituations, and again youngsters declaim of their somewhat indecorous\nemotions with gusto and--let us hope--a sublime insensibility of all\nthat they imply. They are warbling words to music, but they are not\nsinging, for the meaning is not there. The fault, of course, lies in the\ntraditional idea that all aspiring vocalists must learn certain things,\njust as that all pianists should go through a corresponding round of\ninstrumental compositions. Why should they? Many of these classical\nexamples that we accept as the right things to sing or play are\nhopelessly antiquated and out of date: they would not stand a chance as\nnew compositions to-day. Antiquity itself is only a recommendation if we\nare collectors of curios. The literature of Art is far too comprehensive\nfor anyone to study it all, we can but touch a fragment of the whole:\nwhy, then, should that fragment be determined by tradition and custom\nalone? Will anybody's clothes fit me: am I not likely to secure a better\nfit by being measured for my own? And why should not the same\nconsideration apply to my mental outfit? It is the same desperate fear\nof originality and initiative, coupled with a certain unwillingness to\ntake individual responsibility: it is the \"ditto\" idea again, and yet a\nwriter has said \"imitation is suicide.\" Let music be studied\nhistorically and in its development, by all means, this indeed is\nnecessary: but to spend hours and hours learning to play or sing\nsomething just because \"everybody does it\" is the sheerest waste of\ntime, unless the music so played or sung still bears a living message\nfor the performer.\n\nProtest might also be registered against the unadulterated rubbish that\nis put forward as a translation when a song or operatic excerpt of\nforeign origin is rendered in English. Of grand opera even the _Daily\nTelegraph_ is moved to say that \"the translations are in most cases\nliterary nightmares.\" Mere baldness might be excused, and even doggerel\noverlooked, but one has only to turn to almost any of the current\nstandard translations of foreign songs to see that the matter is worse\nthan this. To expect a student to get up and participate in this verbal\nfoolishness and ineptitude, by endeavouring to express as genuine the\nbalderdash that poses as sentiment and sense, is an insult to his or her\nintelligence.\n\nFinally there remains the \"graveyard\" school of composition. Here we\nhave the author or composer, or both of them, seeing the world much\nworse than it is, and think that they do Art a service by putting their\nrealistic conceptions on permanent record. We would join issue with all\nthe various methods--song, literature, drama, and painting--of giving\nthe unpleasant a wider and more effective publicity. The suggestive\nnature of all of these negative things cannot be overlooked, and\nshould not be underestimated. The Biblical advice is to the point:\n\"Whatsoever things are true, lovely, and of good report: think on\nthese.\" The graveyard and realistic schools reverse this sage precept,\nsaying, in effect, \"Whatsoever things are nasty, unwholesome, and\ndisagreeable--make the most of them: they will always appeal to a\ncertain section whose minds are correspondingly unpleasant.\" We prefer\nthe \"pure joy\" gospel, as being nearer the truth: for spirit is ever\npointing the vision upward to what we may become, instead of allowing it\nto grovel around in the very unpleasant circumstances in which some\npeople are liable to find themselves. The outward vision is transient,\nthe inner vision can build eternal realities. \"Are we to beg and cringe\nand hang on the outer edge of life,--we who should walk grandly? Is it\nfor man to tremble and quake--man who in his spiritual capacity becomes\nthe interpreter of God's message,--the focus of Divine Light?\"[19]\n\n[Note 19: Kirkham Davis, \"Where dwells the Soul Serene.\"]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nMUSIC AND EDUCATION\n\n\"Music is not only a source of noble pleasure--everyone admits\nthat, at any rate in theory--it is a form of intellectual and\nspiritual training with which we really cannot afford to dispense\"\n\n_Sir Henry Hadow_\n\n\nWe may agree that education consists in the bringing of the latent\npossibilities of the individual into action, and one of the most\nimportant parts in the process of education is played by memory. The\nfact that memory places on record our first impression of a thing is the\nreason why we are able to recognise it on the second occasion: otherwise\nwe should have to make its acquaintance afresh every time. It is memory\nagain which enables us to retain the mental pattern of an action we have\nonce performed, and so to do it the more easily a second time, and on\nsubsequent occasions. Thus we see that everything we express, whether in\nword, thought, or deed, leaves its mark within us: this impress is, as\nit were, a brick in our life's edifice, and it has added something to\nthat disposition of mind which constitutes our character.\n\nMental growth is thus profoundly influenced by the things we express,\nfor whatever we express forthwith becomes part of ourselves. Anything,\ntherefore, that teaches us to express the fine, the noble, or the\nbeautiful, leaves the self by the fact of that expression with the\nimpress of that fineness, nobility, or beauty henceforth in the\ncharacter. We do not mean that by the utterance of a praiseworthy\nsentiment a man at once grows estimable, but we do mean that the\nsentiment according to its intrinsic value and worth has become an\nelement in his make-up. We observe every day in the contrary direction\nthat giving vent to continual complaint soon makes a person grow\nsour-minded: and incidentally it also makes him grow sour-visaged. It is\nfrequently possible to tell a man's philosophy from his countenance.\nThose whose efforts are devoted to preaching a violent discontent seem\nto run to type, acquiring a discontented kind of countenance to match\ntheir views. Equally so a person whose outlook is more balanced, and\nwhose character is gentler, will gradually inscribe a finer type of\ncharacteristic both in mind and body. The case is very much the same\nwith Art. Those to whom Art stands for beauty and love must necessarily\nbe building themselves of their thoughts, and so be tending towards\ntheir ideal. Thus so far as music becomes the expression of spirit and\nlove, so far its influence upon the individual is permanent and\nprogressive in these directions.\n\nApparent exceptions will at once spring to mind, and we may ask why\nmusicians as a class do not stand out specifically as more spiritual\nthan their fellows. There are many reasons. Not all musicians pursue\ntheir calling with insight and understanding: mere perfunctory\nperformance has the effect of influencing in the direction of the\ncommonplace and the casual, and music is never the sole influence at\nwork, and not always the chief. The character is the result, on balance,\nof ALL the forces that have played their part, just as the annual\nbalance on profit and loss account represents the net result of all the\ntransactions that have taken place. Unless the spiritual forces at work\nin an individual's life outweigh the material, the net result will still\nbe on the side of the latter, even though he may have had music in his\nsoul.\n\nWhen we look at the adolescent of to-day, particularly the town-bred\nyouth of from sixteen to twenty years, we may well ask what opportunity\nhe gets for the expression of any theme of beauty, or for any\nimpression of the like. The mind has a kind of breathing motion, as have\nthe lungs: it takes in, stores up and assimilates, and then expresses.\nEducation must allow for both processes. But our youthful friend has\nleft school, and is probably engaged in some more or less strenuous work\nwhich brings him into the closest contact with grown men. From these he\nderives most of his inspiration: much of it is highly coloured, and some\nof it is certainly degrading. He does not read, and so knows nothing of\nthe inspiration of literature, and the past is to him a closed book. He\ncomes across nothing artistic, and he hears no concerts. He never goes\nto church, and you can see him by the thousand loafing about in any\nlarge town on a Sunday. \"The modern townsman... has forgotten the habits\nand sentiments of the village from which his forefathers came. An\nunnatural and unhealthy mode of life, cut off from the sweet and\nhumanising influences of nature, has produced an unnatural and unhealthy\nmentality, to which we shall find no parallels in the past. Its chief\ncharacteristic is profound secularity or materialism. The typical town\nartisan has no religion and no superstitions: he has no ideals beyond\nthe visible and tangible world of the senses.\"[20]\n\n[Note 20: W. R. Inge.]\n\nThere is, however, one thing that our young friend does: he sings. We\nsee him, in company with three or four of his fellows, marching along\nthe street singing the latest music-hall ditty, with all the approved\nmusic-hall inflections and mannerisms. Sometimes the group will be\naccompanied by one of their companions on a mouth organ, and\noccasionally they will attain to the dignity of two-, or even three-part\nsinging. Now and again we find them \"throwing back\" to the days of\nHucbald the Fleming, and running their harmony in a kind of diaphony a\nfifth below the melody. But they sing because they like to sing. The\nidea naturally suggests itself that if more firms and works would assist\nin making provision for brass bands, string orchestras, and choral\nsocieties among their employees, the music would prove to be a\nhumanising agency of the greatest value. Especially would this be the\ncase if some of the higher officials of the firm, not even excluding the\ndirectors, would join on a footing of musical equality with the rest.\nThe aloofness of class is a potent cause of misunderstanding, but Art\nknows nothing of social distinctions. If we knew more of each other we\nshould probably fight a good deal less, and it is just here that the\npower of music might be used in healing fashion.\n\nOn one occasion in a suburban district, outside a branch of the Y.W.C.A.\non a Sunday evening, we stopped to listen to some excellent\npart-singing, and we could not help thinking what an educative influence\nit would surely prove in the lives of the music-makers. We could wish\nthat such opportunities were more generally available. The provision of\nMunicipal facilities, which would cost very little, would probably be a\nmost sound investment. But everything would in such case hinge upon the\nconductor: mere perfunctory work at the husk of music would quickly damn\nany such scheme. In addition it would do definite harm by creating a\npermanent distaste for music in the minds of those who first were\nattracted. Something has, of course, been done in the way of providing\norgan recitals and so on, but we are here suggesting that the working\nclasses should be provided with the chance of being their own\nmusic-makers. The use of a room, a fee to the conductor, and possibly a\nsmall grant towards the cost of music would be all that was necessary,\nbut who can tell what might be the result in harmony and good feeling?\n\nFolk dances, and the singing of old folk tunes, as taught in the\nelementary schools, are of great value. There is a grace and poetry of\nmovement about some of the children thus taught, which is engaging in\nthe extreme. Nor can this be without its reflex action upon the mind of\nthe child. When taught to move easily and to express fluently in pose\nand gesture, the child will have acquired some tendency towards a\ncorresponding facility of expression in other directions. According to\nthe songs chosen the singing itself provides outlet for the emotions,\nand stimulates imaginative play. The prosaic life and surroundings of\nthe slum child are sufficiently deadening, and the new mental pictures\nthus given are in the nature of windows opening on new vistas of life.\nThey suggest views that could come to the child mind in perhaps no other\nway. The finer type of patriotism can be encouraged by such songs as\nParry's \"England\" (John o' Gaunt's Verse), and the more spiritual\nelement by the same composer's \"Jerusalem\" (words by Blake); while as an\nexample of the imaginative scene we might mention Dr. Wood's \"The\nKnight's Tomb.\" Regarding the simpler type of song, we recall the case\nof an Inspector of Music in Schools who was moved, almost to tears, by\nthe rendering of \"Will ye no come back?\" by a class of children who had\nbeen taught by a truly inspired instructress. A dull teacher, and there\nare too many, does frequently damp and quench the fires that should be\nfanned; and the personal element is an enormous factor in the\nsituation.\n\nThe mental and intellectual value of music should by no means be\noverlooked. The mental alertness developed by sight-reading is of much\nimportance. Some children are slow thinkers, and react lethargically: as\na class, country children are mentally much slower than town-bred\nyoungsters. A city child quickly has to learn to look after himself, and\nto make his own decisions on the spur of the moment, and consequently\nhis mental processes are more fluent than those of the bumpkin type. But\nanything that can be done to accelerate this reaction time is so much\nadded to the efficiency of the individual. Sight-reading, we believe,\npossesses a special value in this direction. Singing at sight is also a\nmeans of developing the co-ordination of the various faculties. There\nare numbers of people who know things ought to be done, and yet fail to\ndo them. In the case of sight-singing, the mental picture has to be\nimmediately translated into action, it is the essence of the proceeding.\nThe child is thus developing not only the mental faculties, but is also\nacquiring increased power of regulation and co-ordination, through the\ntraining of the faculties of the cerebellum.\n\nIt is now becoming generally recognised that the interest of the young\nin music may be expressed in intellectual and emotional enjoyment, and\nnot only instrumentally and vocally. In other words we realise that good\nlisteners and appreciative understanders of music are, in their way, as\nessential as executants. \"Shocking as it may seem, hundreds of children\n'learn music' for the length of their school life and never hear a\nmasterpiece, and indeed, hear no music at all except such as their own\nuntrained musical sense and half-trained fingers can compass.\"[21] In\nincreasing measure the teaching of music appreciation is coming into\nvogue, and as an aid to this the piano-player and gramophone are\ndemonstrating their value. The slogan of the musical advance guard is \"a\ngramophone in every school.\" Teachers who are competent to give\nfirst-class expositions of the classics in schools are naturally few and\nfar between, and it would be impossible for even the first-class, with\nthe best will in the world, to cover a range in any way commensurate\nwith that which can be reached mechanically. Therefore the mechanical\npiano-player with a constant change of rolls, and the gramophone with\nits ever-increasing list of records, are adjuncts to education which are\nat present only in the stage of small beginnings. They possess\ndrawbacks and disadvantages, of course, but these are far outweighed by\nthe many solid points that tell in their favour.\n\n[Note 21: Percy Scholes. \"Everyman and his Music.\"]\n\nThe standard of musical accomplishment to be found in the various\nschools is of very wide range. In the elementary schools there is a\ncertain uniformity of scheme, if not of achievement. But in the Public\nSchools, and in the preparatory schools which act as feeders to them,\nthere is no uniformity of scheme, and the range of achievement is from a\nvery great deal to just nothing at all. Too much depends upon the\nindividual outlook of the Headmaster. If he be musical, then the music\nprospers: but if he be not interested in the subject, then the music\nlanguishes accordingly. This is not rational. Either music has its value\nas an educational subject, in which case it ought to be in the\ncurriculum independent of the vagaries of the Headmaster for the time\nbeing; or else it has no educational value, and should never be there.\nWhims in such a matter are out of place: but they are nevertheless too\noften a deciding factor. In many schools music is frankly regarded as a\nnuisance, a sort of frilling that is inappropriate to the rigid texture\nof education. It touches the emotions, and the Public School man has a\nhorror of being even so much as suspected of having emotions.\n\nThe average net result is that music has been tolerated rather than\nencouraged, and most often the boy who elects to study music has to do\nso at the expense of his playtime. Class singing is sometimes taken in\nthe regular school hours, but more often not. The consequence is that it\nis frequently regarded as a grind and a bore: an attitude scarcely\nconducive to any appreciation of its inner significance. Again, the\ninfluence of the Music Master is of extraordinary importance: his\nsubject is identified in the boy mind with himself, and if the master be\nnot respected for his own personality, then the music suffers in\nprecisely that degree. A fine influence can be trusted to make itself\nfelt in every circumstance, though perhaps battles may have to be fought\nbefore victory is achieved, and if the musician has grasped the\nfundamentals of his Art, and realises that it is not so much himself as\nthe spirit that works through him, then the work that he can do both for\nmusic and for his little musicians is beyond all price.\n\nIn one Public School with which we were closely acquainted the standard\nof music was extremely high. The \"Head\" had his own ideas, which\noccasionally came out in unexpected guise. For example, every Sunday\nmorning there was a choir-practice before Chapel for the non-singers.\nThis, of course, is a contradiction in terms, but an effective procedure\nin reality. All the boys who were not in the choir had to attend a\npractice for the musical part of the service, while the choir had the\nprivilege of a free time. There was no grievance about this, and it was\ntaken simply as a matter of routine. Further, in addition to the usual\nShields that were won and kept for the year by the various competing\n\"Houses,\" for cricket, football, sports, cross-country running, etc.,\nthere was a \"House-singing Shield.\" This was competed for by the various\nhouses, each of which had to put up an S.A.T.B. (four-part) choir. The\ncompetition consisted in the singing; of a compulsory glee, chosen by\nthe authorities some months in advance, and a voluntary part-song\nselected by the competing choir. Both were to be sung without\naccompaniment. If the house-master happened to be musical he generally\nundertook the training of the choir: but if he were not, then a head boy\ntook it on. The standard achieved was, as a rule, remarkably good. At\nthe time of which we speak there were five competing houses in a school\nof some two hundred boys, and this means that in the school there were\nfive complete four-part choirs capable of singing an unaccompanied\npart-song. Practically every boy belonged to one or other of the\nchoirs, for marks were added to the total in proportion as the number of\nboys singing rose, as compared with the total number in the house.\n\nWe cite this case from our own experience in order to show what has\nactually been accomplished in the way of fostering the love of music in\none Public School. We are aware that this standard would appear entirely\nvisionary to the authorities of some other schools: there are some to\nwhom the idea of one choir singing in two parts seems more than is\npracticable. But when music is recognised as an integral part of\neducation, as it used to be in Greece, then we may look forward to a\ndifferent standard indeed. We may also recognise that unless education\nitself pays some attention to the emotional and feeling side of life, it\nis leaving neglected an element which has no little to do with national\nstability and sanity, since these can only be grounded upon the\nmanifestation of spirit in love and service.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE ARTISTIC TEMPERAMENT\n\n\"Conventions mean very little to the artist, because\nconventionality arises either from mental laziness or fear of what\nothers will say and think. Moreover the true genius must ever have\nthe capacity to feel deeper love and emotions than the man in the\nstreet\"\n\nEaglefield Hull\n\n\nWe frequently hear the \"artistic temperament\" referred to in ordinary\nconversation as if it were some kind of a vice, a mental aberration or a\ndisease: and it is certainly doubtful whether those who so casually\ndiscuss the subject have any clear idea as to what constitutes this\nparticular equipment. That no great work of artistic merit can be\naccomplished in its absence is more or less tacitly agreed, but it may\nbe interesting to consider in what this essential basis of artistic\nsuccess consists.\n\nWe have before pointed out that the function of an interpreter is to act\nas a link between the spiritual and the material: he is the prophet to\nreveal the otherwise hidden message. The interpreter is the artist, and\nthe artist is the interpreter. The ability to come into contact with the\nfiner things, tangible or intangible, is simply a capacity of response\nfiner than normal. A trained sense-perception is more acute than a\nnon-trained: and quite apart from training there are very wide\ndivergences in the innate range of activity of the various senses.\nAgain, keen interest and attention tend to make a particular sense more\nalert, and even to extend the boundaries of its response. A man who is\nparticularly interested in some maiden's voice or footstep will be able\nto make correct distinctions which simply do not exist for anyone less\nactively interested in that particular lady. Concentration enables any\nsense to become more acute. This increased acuteness naturally gives its\npossessor the power to receive impressions which would otherwise escape\nrecord. In the sense of not being usual, this acute sensitiveness of the\nartist is thus an abnormality: but it is only a variation in the\ndirection of progress, for the whole story of the evolutionary climb up\nlife's ladder is one of ever-increasing sensibility and response. The\nartistic temperament is thus, in essence, a phase of evolution somewhat\nin advance of its day.\n\nAny departure from the normal, even though it be in the forward\ndirection and carrying with it certain privileges, yet entails its\ndisadvantages. The man who breaks out is generally made to pay pretty\ndearly for his temerity: but, if there were none to advance and thus\nbreak out, civilisation itself would stagnate and there could be no\nprogress. The artist, the dreamer, the visionary, the poet, the genius,\nthese all are the advance guard of humanity. As such they frequently\nreceive the pioneers' scanty reward, but their eyes are scarcely fixed\nupon mundane munificence, already their scale of values is a spiritual\none. But it is just these delicate, sensitive folk, susceptible to the\ngossamer impulses that would never even ruffle the surface of the\naverage man's mind, who are open to the urge of spirit and responsive to\nits \"drive.\" So they answer to the helm and steer out into the unknown,\nwhile the more sleek, comfortable, and well-fed do not so much as guess\nthat there has been any impulse at all. \"H'm,\" say the corpulent, \"why\ncan't they leave well alone and be comfortable?\" But it is no part of\nthe great plan that the wheels of progress should ever slow down, it is\nmuch more to the point that they should be made to turn more quickly.\nSpirit is the force behind evolution, the force that makes the acorn\nunfold into the oak, and it is the urge of spirit which compels man to\nunfold his own divinity.\n\nThe artistic temperament, then, is the super-sensitive, and by this very\nvirtue it creates its own difficulties. The artist is too responsive,\ntoo widely responsive unless he knows how to safeguard himself. Nature\nherself in her thousand moods plays upon the sensitive mind: she moulds\nit with her beauties, leads it out into the open with the call of the\nwild, or terrifies it with the grandeur of her anger. The artist replies\nto the appeal of beauty, but is seared with the degradation of ugliness\nor the sordid. He is thrilled with love, and wounded to the core by\nhatred. He responds to praise, but is depressed by sneers to a degree\nwhich the ordinary man is unable to comprehend. Thus his daily life is\npierced with a thousand exquisite emotions to which your well-fed\nplebeian is stranger indeed. He lives on more exalted heights and yet\nsinks to inconceivably greater depths. Life truly consists more in our\nwealth of impression than in the length of our days, and therefore the\nartist lives at greater intensity, and consequently with a greater\nnervous wear and tear.\n\nThis sensitiveness is more easily moved to tears, since it is in essence\nmore feminine than masculine, being more a matter of the heart than the\nhead: but because of this element of the feminine it partakes more of\nthe magnetic temperament than the electric. It possesses to a greater\ndegree the capacity for holding on. Thus the sensitive artist, for the\nsake of his ideal, will peg away at the forlorn hope, and, sustained by\nthe spirit, may bring off the thousand-to-one chance. He has the\ncapacity to endure to the end, while the man without this \"drive\" will\nweigh things up, eventually playing for safety and, incidentally,\ncomfort. Our friend of the artistic temperament will be acutely\nsympathetic, and thus an easy prey for the importunate: he may even give\neverything away and so have nothing for himself. The world will furnish\nhim with countless opportunities both of great joy and bitter grief, so\nthe readings of the temperament-chart of the artist will be apt to\nresemble the variations of a barometer when changeable weather is about.\nGenius is thus as a rule variable to the verge of the irrational.\n\nErratic as it may seem to the ordinary person, the vision of the artist\nis often inherently near the truth. His sensitiveness enables him to see\nthis \"more of truth,\" even if it becloud his vision occasionally with\nmundane perversions. He possesses his own standards, and when these\nconflict with the conventional it is convention that must be sacrificed.\nThus the conventional mind brands the artistic temperament as immoral.\nBut morality is not absolute, it is conventional and relative: we do\nnot, as once, punish the sheep-stealer with the gallows nor the heretic\nwith red-hot irons, for our standards have changed with the years. So\nalso do they vary with our locality: what is right in this place is\nwrong over the border. The vision of the artist sees beyond the\nformularies to the substance, and so he is prepared to brave criticism\nfor his stand upon what he knows to be true.\n\nLove and beauty call to him with other meaning than they bear to the\nprosaic and self-satisfied, and so he answers to the call of affection\nwhen perhaps it would have been better for his peace of mind that\ncaution and prudence should have held sway. But again it is an open\nquestion whether the man who follows the gleam, with inspiration to\nbeckon him, does not come nearer to the truth than the man of\ncalculating caution who sums up and weighs. Sometimes crabbed age awakes\nto the realisation that the cocksure aim of youth is on occasion nearer\nto the mark than the aim directed by cold intellect, plotted out on a\ndiagram, and worked out correct to three places of decimals. It is\nperfectly possible for the cautious and orthodox pedestrian to spend so\nmuch time and effort in dodging the dangers of life's path, and in\nendeavouring to keep off the grass, that he makes no solid progress. On\nthe other hand, the artistic temperament lives in the world and is not\nentitled to follow its own laws where those conflict with the interests\nof others. The mere possession of this type of temperament involves its\nBohemian owner in many difficulties which do not beset the path of those\nwho fit into the routine of life as they find it. Certainly it is\nadvisable for the artist to temper his ways with discretion, for genius\nis altogether too apt to make a meteoric blaze and end up in a fizzle.\n\nThe possessor of the artistic temperament is frequently deemed\nunreliable and capricious, and to a certain extent this is true. It is\nthe sensitiveness first to one impact and then another, the\nsusceptibility to the manifold forces that play upon the individual,\nwhich turn him now in the one direction and then in the other. He is\nlured and led by this, and then by that. Yet at times he is capable of\nthe greatest concentration: immersed in his subject he may even forget\nthe outer world and omit to eat his dinner, or perhaps like the\nphilosopher he may eat it twice.\n\nIt is, however, quite possible to cultivate some of the advantages of\nthis temperament and to restrict the disadvantages. It is not\nnecessary, for example, that anyone should be at the mercy of every\ntransient impulse: this involves an enormous waste of energy, as would\nthe voyage of a ship which should suffer itself to be blown hither and\nthither by every passing breeze. We only respond to that to which we are\nmentally attuned, and our minds pick up out of the welter of errant\nthought only those which correspond to the note we sing. This, then,\nsuggests that by attuning the mind to certain things we automatically\nthrow it out of tune with conflicting ideas. The successful artist, as a\nrule, is one who has learnt to render himself oblivious to distractions,\nand so is enabled to concentrate his attention solely on the work in\nhand. The artist who will be permanently unsuccessful is the one whose\nenthusiasms attract him first to one thing and then another, never\nallowing him to remain absorbed by the one thing long enough to bring it\nto a satisfactory issue. Auto-suggestion applied to this point of\ninculcating response to certain things, and immunity from the influence\nof others, is an easy and extremely practical help.\n\nOne characteristic of genius is an extreme fertility in making mental\nassociations. A central object comes into mind, and immediately the mind\nof the genius, by contrast, comparison, analogy, inference, and\nimagination, weaves around it a wealth of possibility: the dull-witted\nman sees the same, but his mind travels no farther than the actual\nvision. The quick mind supplies the apt repartee, while the dullard\nthinks of the appropriate reply next morning--if at all. The\ndisadvantage of the latter mind is that it does not work easily, the\ndanger of the former is that it may work too easily and get out of\ncontrol. Where the central control does not suffice to keep a strong\nhand upon this easy-running mental machinery, it may quickly merge into\neccentricity and possibly into madness. The insane show this same\ntendency to rapid, but irrelevant, association which lands them in\nincoherency: they make, or indulge in, associations which no normal\nperson would allow. A genius is only a genius while the necessary\nselection and control over these associations is retained, when this is\nlost the genius passes into that insanity to which it is so closely\nassociated. The same conditions and remarks apply to the artistic\ntemperament, which itself is a mark of possible genius.\n\nThe artistic impulse is essentially creative, and in this it\ndemonstrates its relationship to the question of sex. It is well\nrecognised that many of the inspirations of genius in the various forms\nof Art have come at a time when the artist was in the throes of the\ngentle passion. This \"love neurosis,\" as the cold specialist dubs it, is\nin essence a condition of exaltation, and therefore of exceptional\nsensitiveness. Need we wonder, then, that our artist-friend makes\nperhaps more frequent excursions than the humdrum individual into the\nrealms of amorous exuberance? By nature he is more susceptible to the\ninfluence of the finer emotions, and he will find a thousand graces in\nthe curve of an arm or the turn of an ankle, where, were you to appraise\nsuch in cold blood, there might be after all little enough to rave\nabout.\n\nIt seems probable that the inspiration of the opposite sex in the\nartistic direction lies more in this mood of exaltation than in any\nspecific influence. In the exalted condition there is the greater\ncapacity of response to inspiration from outside ourselves, and also\nfrom within. Under all circumstances we are being played upon by the\nwaves of the sea of thoughts in which we daily live, and therefore\ninspiration from this outside source is somewhat of a commonplace. But\nunder certain conditions one can undoubtedly be inspired by one's own\ngreater (subconscious) mind, which contains as treasure all the lore of\nits own experience, and probably a good deal more beside.\n\nHowever, the artistic temperament, with all that may be said for or\nagainst it, is a gift of the high gods, and while it does not of\nnecessity imply a greater degree of spirituality and spiritual impulse\nthan the normal, it does at any rate make this possible. The conditions\nare provided for finer work than is open to the majority, but so long as\nman has a measure of free will he is able to turn the use of his gifts\nupward or down. The freedom of the artist may of course degenerate into\nlicense, and the spiritual impulse may be turned to perverted ends.\nThere is a distinct difference between the truly spiritual and what may\nbe termed the psychic: there are hidden powers and latent possibilities\nwhich the specially sensitive are beginning to unfold. But the danger is\nexactly on a par with that which up-to-date chemists and scientists\nforesee in the physical world. There are tons of energy, we are told,\nlocked up in the atom of the physical world, and the scientist prays\nthat mankind may not find the secret of unlocking that power until his\nmoral sense is developed to such a degree as to prevent his using it for\ndestructive ends. It is comparatively easy to stimulate the psychic side\nof our natures, but unless these powers be tuned by an accompanying\nspirituality to a high note, unexpected and even undesirable results may\nfollow. The artist has taken a step forward in the exploration of a new\nrealm, and new discoveries--even though he does not fully comprehend\ntheir import--are falling to his lot. The safeguard of the pioneer lies\nin his recognition of the spiritual nature of his quest: if he realises\nthat he is making contact with a new realm of thought and idea, then he\nwill rate his calling high, and not run unnecessary risk by pursuing it\nin any unworthy or selfish aim.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\n\"PURE MUSIC\"\n\n\"We understand but little of music. The greatest masterpiece is but\na signpost to that infinite realm of harmony, in which music is for\never included, and to the joy which awaits in its eternal\nunfoldment\"\n\n_F. L. Rawson_\n\n\nThe point has been raised in discussion--\"Is there such a thing as pure\nmusic?\" The question involved is whether music must necessarily convey\nany emotional message, or whether it may just be a concourse of sweet\nsounds signifying nothing. There are those who are prepared to lend\nsupport to the proposition on either side: but, inasmuch as the whole\nobject of these pages has been to emphasise the spiritual message of\nmusic, our viewpoint would naturally lead us to take up a position in\nconflict with that of the \"pure music\" school.\n\nThe difficulty in all discussion, and particularly in such as this,\nconsists in the fact of our own individual uniqueness. Little as we may\nrealise it, our standards of judgment and criticism are purely\nindividual and infinitely variable. Two people see a thing: put\nscientifically, the result of this is that each experiences a\nstimulation of the optic nerve. Apart from any differences arising from\nthe varying powers of concentration and observation, the stimulus will\nbe the same. But the next step in the process of seeing is the\ntranslation of this nerve-stimulus by the brain into a visual image:\nthis can only be done by the awakening of a brain-picture which is\nalready there--in short, by recognition. As the pictures already\nexisting in the mind are compiled by the experience of the individual,\nand as no two sets of experiences can possibly be identical in all\nrespects, it follows that the visual image awakened is a purely personal\nand unique one. The thing seen is variable according to the individual.\nIt is impossible for us to observe alike even when we are concerned with\nconcrete objects: still more is it impossible when we deal with abstract\nsubjects such as Art and Beauty. Hence arises the fundamental difficulty\nof discussion.\n\nIn the world of affairs we have arrived at certain understandings or\nconventional views which we generally accept, and upon this basis we\nproceed to argue as if our facts were facts--which which they are not.\nWe agree to regard a certain \"colour\" as red, although as a matter of\nfact it is neither a colour, nor is it red. Colour is merely the\nreflection of certain light rays transmitted by ether waves: our red\nobject reflects the red rays of the spectrum, having absorbed all the\nothers. But in the absence of light our object is no longer red, and\ncolour does not exist. Had we generally agreed to call this colour blue,\nthen it would be blue instead of red. The basis of any argument about\ncolour must be some sort of convention of this kind to form a common\nmeeting ground. The difficulty in discussion about music is that such a\nconventional basis of agreement does not exist.\n\nMusic may thus convey a message to one person and not to another: it may\nbe \"pure music\" carrying no emotion to this man, and yet it may convey\nsomething peculiarly definite, to the mind of the other. The message is\nnot a thing of which we can logically argue \"either it is, or it is\nnot\": both statements may be true. Sound exists in the form of\nvibration, but if I am deaf I cannot hear it: it has no existence--FOR\nME. The problem thus centres itself largely in the mind of the\nindividual rather than in the question whether there is or is not a\nmessage and a meaning. Not only music, but the whole world is brimming\nover with messages and meanings which our dull senses cannot appreciate.\nThe folk who populate this globe are largely dead. They answer to such a\nlimited range of interests and sensations that they cannot in any real\nsense be said to be \"alive.\"\n\nThe message of music may be a very gossamer thing, it may be far too\ntenuous to be expressed in words, though possibly it might be conveyed\neloquently enough in some of the sister Arts, in dancing, posture,\ngesture, or in facial expression. \"Pour not out words where there is a\nmusician,\" says the writer in Ecclesiasticus. The message may scarcely\nbe a thought, or emotion, or even an idea: it may simply be a mood.\nWords so often become our masters instead of our servants, and we are\napt to think that if a thing cannot be reduced to a verbal formula it is\nan airy nothing, a figment of the imagination. So it may be, but it is\nnone the less real. We have thought of ourselves as material individuals\nfor so long that it is difficult for us to use other than material\nstandards in our estimate of immaterial things: hence our confusion. We\ncan feel a thousand things far too delicate to explain or express, joys\ntoo exquisite to voice, doubts too tenuous to utter, and griefs too\nheavy to be borne: we could not put them on paper, nor submit to be\ncross-examined as to their reality and substance, but there they are,\nand not all the argument in the world could impugn their reality to us.\nWhat is the most emotional of all the Arts? Music. No art has a deeper\npower of penetration, no other can render shades of feeling so\ndelicate.\"[22]\n\n[Note 22: Ribot. \"Psychology of the Emotions.\"]\n\nLet us take a concrete example: the change from the major to the minor\nmode carries with it a change of sentiment. We feel that, quite\nnoticeably, the minor mood is one of sadness and resignation as compared\nwith the major of brightness and activity. It may be advanced that this\nis merely a matter of association in the mind, that we have been long\naccustomed to relate grief and melancholy and sadness with minor keys,\nand that therefore the one idea very naturally brings up the other. The\nargument is logical, and cannot be summarily dismissed. But when we\nreflect that this contrast of activity and resignation, as typified by\nthe major and minor modes, also corresponds to the fundamental relation\nof the sexes, the active and the receptive, the \"doing\" and \"being,\" we\nmay question whether association is sufficient as an explanation. The\nmajor and minor modes may thus be themselves but expressions of some\ndeeper spiritual relationship embodied in the nature of things.\n\nWithout giving rise to any definite emotion, and in the absence of any\nspecific programme, it is thus quite possible for music to suggest a\nmood or to induce an atmosphere. Surely this is, in effect, the\nconveyance of a message and a meaning, even though both be inarticulate.\nSuch influences may call to like moods or atmospheres within ourselves\nand bring them into expression: by being made thus explicit instead of\nremaining latent they gain added strength, and are recorded in ourselves\nby memory. Thus even the mood suggested by the music of the moment may\nbe a lasting item in our soul's growth. Art in all its variety of noble\nforms is ever beckoning to the best in us, to the sense of the beautiful\nand to the unformulated ideal: it is the spirit clothed in form calling\nto the spirit not yet expressed, bidding it build beauty. \"This building\nof man's true world--the living world of truth and beauty--is the\nfunction of Art. Man is true, where he feels his infinity, where he is\ndivine, and the divine is the creator in him. Therefore with the\nattainment of his truth he creates.\"[23] This call to spirit is the old\nallegory of the sleeping beauty waiting to be awakened to her royal\nrank by the kiss of the seeking prince: it is the same truth as\nexpressed in the Bible--\"We love Him because He first loved us.\"\n\n[Note 23: Rabindranath Tagore. \"What is Art?\"]\n\nIt is not music alone that thus seeks to arouse our latent divinity and\nto stimulate the tenuous virtues which expression alone can make robust.\nWhen rhythm without calls to the rhythm within, it answers because it\nmust. \"Dancing is symbolical, it means something, it expresses a\nfeeling, a state of mind.\"[24] The grace of the dancer may very well\nstir something in mind that ordinarily receives but little awakening.\nWith the changes in the rhythm of the dance, and the gestures that vary\nin consonance, the echo within sings to a new tune. Perhaps we find\nourselves tapping the rhythm with our feet or our fingers, or it may be\nthat we find the very expression on our own face is altering to match\nthat upon the countenance of the dancer. The skilful speaker also can\narouse almost any emotion he pleases in the minds of his audience. He\nmay one moment have them laughing, and then the next, as if by magic\ntouch, he may bring them to sober mood or even to sorrow. Music no less\nsurely does the same through the agency of rhythm, melody, and harmonic\ntexture. There may be no words in the music or the dance, but the\nemotion is nevertheless conveyed. Moreover, each idea in mind has its\nown associations, and when once the central idea is implanted it\nforthwith proceeds to clothe itself in these associations, decking\nitself out according to the native colour of the mind.\n\n[Note 24: Ribot. \"Psychology of the Emotions.\"]\n\nWe find it impossible to conceive that anything which may be termed\nmusic is devoid of significance, though there are certainly gradations\nand degrees of import. It may well be that music, like so many other\nthings in nature, has a three-fold aspect corresponding to our own\nmake-up as body, soul, and spirit. The outer form, the composition and\nactual structure, represents the \"body\" of music: that part which is\nvisible even to the unobservant eye and audible to the indiscriminating\near. This is a matter of notes and tones quite apart from any real\nmeaning or value. Such would be an academic exercise, or a technically\ncorrect but unconvincing ballad. It might possibly make some appeal to\nthe intellect by by virtue of the \"exhibition of balance and symmetry,\nthe definiteness of plan and design, the vitality and proportion of\norganic growth,\"[25] but this would not suffice to place it in the\ncategory of music displaying the \"soul\" element.\n\n[Note 25: Hadow. \"Studies in Modern Music.\"]\n\nThis second and higher \"soul\" significance shows itself in the\nemotional appeal of the music, in the feelings it provokes and the mood\nit engenders. Here sound speaks in parables with an outer story and an\ninner meaning. The non-musical person hears sounds, but the musical mind\nhears sense. Whether the tidings be of sweetness, affection, or delight,\nof strength, vigour, or energy, of sorrow or regret, there is all the\ndifference in the world between the outward comprehension and the inner\ninterpretation. The formal part of the music is the frame, but the\nemotion supplies the picture within.\n\nYet this is not all. There is still the significance which the picture\nis intended to convey, the spirit, the very heart of it. This\nconstitutes the inspiration and \"if this inner reality (Spirit) does not\nexist in a work it ceases to be a work of art at all: it becomes an\nexample of beautiful handiwork--fine craftsmanship, perhaps--but not\nart.\"[26]\n\n[Note 26: Newlandsmith. \"The Temple of Art.\"]\n\nIt is only in the spirit that the real meaning of true music is to be\nfound, minor and partial revelations may be met and enjoyed at the lower\nstages, and at their level these may satisfy the aspirations of those\nwho cannot take the higher seats at the musical feast. It is impossible\nthat this spiritual message should be comprehended except by those who\nhave in some measure unfolded their own spiritual perceptions. Spiritual\nthings must be spiritually discerned. The Bible has its literal and\nverbal message, appropriate in degree to those whose intellectual\naccomplishment rises no further than an ordinary story: but there is an\ninner meaning which the more advanced can appreciate. There is yet an\nesoteric meaning, a holy of holies, into which only the initiated and\ninstructed can penetrate, and this only those whose spiritual vision is\nunfolded can discern. \"Only those in whom the spirit is evolved can\nunderstand the spiritual meaning.\"[27] But each stage has its gospel,\nthough that of the higher stages is incomprehensible to those in the\nlower. So in all true music there are meanings within meanings, and\nnothing is meaningless. \"Pure\" music perhaps conveys the innermost\nmeaning of all, for \"shades of colour, like shades of sound, are of a\nmuch subtler nature, (and) cause much subtler vibrations of the spirit\nthan can ever be given by words.\"[28]\n\n[Note 27: Besant. \"Esoteric Christianity.\"]\n\n[Note 28: Kandinsky, quoted in \"Eurythmics.\" (Dalcroze.)]\n\nIn this three-fold aspect of music, then, we may perhaps find the key as\nto whether music must necessarily imply anything or not. There are the\nouter courts of the Temple of Art, where the meaning and expression is\nadapted to those who may foregather only there, but there are the inner\ncourts where \"more of truth\" is to be found by those who have ears to\nhear. But in the inmost chamber we may discern in the greatest\nmasterpieces in music that \"something beside, some divine element of\nlife by which they are animated and inspired.\"[29] All true music has\ntrue meaning, but this must correspond at each stage with the power and\ngrade of discrimination and appraisement possible for the individual. We\nare wise in our generation if we refrain from disparaging what we do not\nunderstand; it is easy to reflect upon ourselves in such disparagement.\nConversely, if there be no meaning, surely there is no music, and we\nneed waste no time in endeavouring to find a message and a meaning in\nthat composition wherein the composer himself could find none to put.\n\n[Note 29: Hadow. \"Studies in Modern Music.\"]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nTHE PURPOSE OF ART\n\n\"But God has a few of us whom he whispers in the ear: The rest may\nreason and welcome: 'tis we musicians know\"\n\n_Browning_\n\n\nThere are in essence but two creeds in the world, the one a\nmaterialistic belief, and the other some degree or phase of a spiritual\nconception. Every degree of density is to be found in the material view,\nand every grade of refinement exists in the spiritual vision: by\nimperceptible gradations they may shade from one into the other, but the\ntwo extremes are material and spiritual. The latter view will tend to\nresult in unselfishness, in altruism and a keen desire to leave one's\nown little corner of the world better for having lived in it. The\nmaterial idea must almost of necessity lead up to a selfish course of\nconduct, where the personal interests are put foremost, and the sole\nobject is to \"get\" as much as possible, as opposed to the spiritual\nphilosophy which would advocate \"giving.\"\n\nThe old wise-heads who carved \"MAN--KNOW THYSELF\" over the entrance to\nthe Temple at Delphi knew what they were talking about, for it is\nlargely owing to the fact that man knows so little of himself--and\ngenerally knows that little wrong--that his philosophy has taken such a\nperverted turn. The world, and more especially our western world, is\nhopelessly material in its outlook, and we would suggest that it is\nbecause the average man thinks of himself as his material body that his\nphilosophy follows along the same lines. When a man identifies himself\nwith his body, and has only a pious hope of having a spirit which will\ncome into action when he dies, or perhaps a very long time after he is\ndead, then naturally his chief concern is with the body of which, at any\nrate, he has definite assurance. So he looks after the body, seeks\ncomfort and luxury for it, and strives for the necessary money with\nwhich to gratify its whims. This means that he must get money the best\nway he can, but he must get it: if it has to be at the expense of\nothers--well, so much the worse for them. If it has to be fought for,\nthen naturally the stronger wins: the \"survival of the fittest\" he will\nsay. Thus, quite logically, from the primary misconception a\nsuperstructure of error is raised. As each body has diverse whims, the\npursuit of these must lead to the widest range and conflict of aims, and\nthus materialism results in disorder, cross-purposes and confusion. On\nall sides this diversity of aim, with its corresponding confusion, is\nvisible both in individuals and in nations to-day.\n\nBut as soon as a man realises that he is primarily a spirit, having a\nbody as an instrument through which to play, his point of view is\nentirely altered. The pursuit of mere physical enjoyment and luxury is\nrecognised as having an enervating and blunting effect upon the finer\nspiritual faculties: it puts the instrument out of tune and spoils its\ntone. Money is seen as somewhat of a snare and a delusion, when valued\nfor its own sake. The object of life is recognised as spiritual growth,\nand in that growth happiness is found. Quite notoriously it is sought in\nvain in mere selfish pursuits. This spiritual growth can only be\nattained by the practice of the law of love, manifesting itself in\nunselfish service in the interests of others. The effect of this\nspiritual conception is to eliminate diversity of aim, and to lead back\nto the simplicity and unity of a single purpose--that of spiritual\nevolution.\n\nThe body, we know, has come up the long ladder of evolution, and it\nstill retains in its build many traces of the climb. There are muddy\npatches in the instincts and passions, and encumbrances and impedimenta\nin both mind and body, as part of our heritage. But spirit has come\nDOWN. As Wordsworth expresses it--\"trailing clouds of glory do we come\nfrom God.\" All religions claim for us an immortality, and it is\ndifficult for us to conceive an existence finite at one end and infinite\nat the other: so if we are to claim our immortality of spirit we should\nsurely recognise our present spirituality which ensures that\nimmortality. However this may be, we may at any rate agree that body\ncomes UP and spirit comes DOWN, and they consort here together for a few\ndecades: then the body undoubtedly returns as dust to dust, and \"the\nspirit returns to God who gave it\" (Ecclesiastes). But there would be no\nevolution and no fulfilment of purpose if the spirit were not to return\na richer and more developed spirit by reason of its sojourn in the\nflesh: there would be stagnation, just a simple ineffectual turning\nround and round, as of a screw that had stripped its thread.\n\nThe battle royal is the fight for mastery as between body and spirit:\nevolution proceeds apace when spirit takes command and bids the body\nminister to its progress, but evolution halts when the body clogs the\nspirit. Then Nature, our taskmaster, punishes us, ever choosing that way\nwhich is entirely appropriate and induced by the fault itself: this is\nthe purpose and the cause of our pecks of trouble. The battle has to be\nfought--and won--by each of us: the only effect of temporary surrender\nis indefinite delay. The battle has still to be fought again with added\ndifficulties later on. \"The popular-class composer nowadays is not\ninfrequently a thoroughly competent and well-read musician who, _if he\nchose_, could write really solid and substantial music.\"[30] So the\nfrankly commercial musician who writes for the market has surrendered in\none skirmish of spirit. Very possibly he gains the desired pieces of\nsilver, but they are dearly paid for at the expense of his own artistic\nsoul. Also in the long run the surrender is futile, for he MUST evolve:\nand if he has slipped down, then so much further has he again to climb.\n\n[Note 30: Article in \"John o' London's Weekly.\"]\n\nThe antagonist of Materialism in the world-contest is Spirit, and the\norganising and marshalling of the spiritual forces has been the province\nof religion in general. But religion has itself been too much apart from\nthe things of everyday, it has lived in a compartment of its own,\nlabelled \"Sundays only.\" As a consequence its influence has failed to\npermeate the world of affairs, and both religion and the world have\nsuffered direly as a result. When religion ceases to carry any weight\nwith the individual, his balance necessarily sways toward the material:\nand when religious teaching practically ceases to have any vitality in\nthe education of the nation, it follows that the outlook must turn more\nand more in the direction of selfishness, force, and mere worldly\naffluence. This may be a tolerably comfortable method of extinction, but\nit is no way of progressive life. Music allies itself with the forces at\nwork on the spiritual side, and thus comes to the battle in support of\nreligion.\n\nMusic exists as a permanent witness to the reality of the intangible,\nand to the power and pre-eminence of qualities which no money can\npurchase and which Time is powerless to destroy. The so-called solid\nthings disintegrate, the vogue of one year spells oblivion in the next,\nbut the power of music to stir the pulse, to awaken the emotions and to\nuplift the spirit, has remained through all the yesterdays, and will do\nso--we may anticipate--through all the to-morrows. It is an ally and\nco-witness with religion for immaterial and spiritual ends. Another\nally, in the guise of science, is also coming fast in support. Science\nhas already overstepped the bounds of the material in many quarters:\nits trend is ever in the direction of the invisible, where there is\nanother range of values and qualities, and where no scales weigh and no\nfootrules measure. It is now engaged in discovering the unseen causes\nwhich underlie the objective effects we notice in the physical world.\nPresently, there can be but little doubt, we shall find the three,\nReligion, Science, and Music (or rather, Art in general) ranged side by\nside for the ultimate destruction of the purely material and mechanistic\ntheories of life: and when these are finally overthrown, with them will\nalso topple the doctrines, founded thereon, of self-seeking and strife.\n\nOur own spirit-nature is our truest guide to the discernment of the\nspirit universal. There is but one life and one spirit, though the\ndegrees of its manifestation are wide as the poles asunder: just as in\nour own body there are specialised cells for high tasks and for lowly,\nyet the same life pervades them all. There is a wild robin redbreast who\nalways comes when I dig my garden, to eat the grubs that the spade turns\nup. He is not in the least afraid, and he often answers when I whistle\nto him: he is a little cousin of mine. His life is in no essentials\ndifferent to my own life, except that I have the advantage of him in\nbeing able to express so much more of the same spirit. Divinity and\nspirit (are not the terms synonymous?) are in all, behind all, and in\never-increasing degree before all. Our own answering to love and the\nappeal of beauty is simply the echo of like to like; the spirit within\nreplies to the call of spirit without. For this reason Music is a\nuniversal language, and Art can know no boundaries.\n\nTo explore the beauties of Art and Music is to add those beauties, by\nexpression and the power of memory, to the self. Thus we may grow more\nbeautiful, just as surely as by thinking ever in terms of pounds,\nshillings, and pence, we grow more sordid and mercenary. It is a\nperfectly commonsense process. Furthermore, the appreciation of beauty\nand of artistic expression develops our power of keener appreciation.\nEvolution in music cannot stop, for spirit is behind it: and the spirit\nwithin must eventually find its way back to the universal source from\nwhich it came, just as water must find its own level. The present status\nof everything that we observe to-day is purely temporary: we are looking\nat one picture of a cosmic cinema film that stretches on to infinity.\nJust because we see only one static picture of a process which truly\nnever stops moving, so we get a view of life that contains much of\ndelusion. We have heard a Doctor of Music state in public his opinion\nthat the age of the composition of musical masterpieces was for ever\npassed: so will others say that the age of inspiration and prophecy has\nalso departed. These good people are mistaking the outer form which is\ntransient, for the inner principle which is spirit and eternal. They\nhave lost their bearings. Music must go on from development to\ndevelopment, and just as soon as it proves itself incapable of further\ndevelopment and expression along certain lines, the spirit within will\nrend the husk that can no longer contain it and will blossom forth in\nsome new and more expansive guise. As with our own bodies, the outworn\ngarb will be laid aside, and the spirit will find a finer form.\n\n\"Like Scriabin, Scott looks to Music as a means to carry further the\nspiritual evolution of the race, and believes that it has occult\nproperties of which only a few enlightened people are aware.\"[31] There\ncan be no doubt that this survival-value of Music lies in its power to\nassist spiritual unfoldment and progress, and if the serious practice of\nmusic involves a certain discipline of plain living and high thinking,\nare not these themselves adjuncts to a progressive evolution? Where the\nadequate interpretation of music involves a certain abnegation and\nunselfishness in the case of a soloist, and a large measure of team-play\nand co-operation in the case of concerted work, are not these again\nelements in inculcating an attitude that transcends self? Does not the\nsimple appreciation of music tend to unlock the doors of imagination and\nset it free in regions far removed from the gross? And are not all these\nso many aids to higher ends?\n\n[Note 31: Eaglefield Hull. \"Cyril Scott.\"]\n\nIf the inspiration that is in music and works through it serves to\nawaken us to the fact that the world of spirit is very close at all\ntimes, and that our knowledge of it and our communion therewith is\nsolely limited by our capacity of fine response, it will have done\nsomething of incalculable value. If it arouses in us the desire to fit\nourselves by aspiration and a high resolve to achieve that delicacy of\nsensitiveness whereby we ourselves may catch some of the spirit's\ntenuous message, it will have served to put us in touch with eternal\ninfluences. It should certainly assist in breaking down any leanings\ntowards a gospel of materialism with all its naked selfishness, and in\nso doing \"Art is calling us the 'children of the immortal,' and\nproclaiming our right to dwell in the heavenly worlds.\"[32]\n\n[Note 32: Rabindranath Tagore. \"Personality.\"]","title":"Spirit and Music","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":28877}