THE ANALOGIES AND ASSOCIATIONS OF

MUSIC AND LITERATURE.

BY EDWIN EVANS.

[Read November 26th, 1913.]

In order that the following paper should be in harmony with the purposes of the Society to whom it is to be submitted, it was my original intention to give the greater prominence to the literary half of its dual title, but I had overlooked a very good reason why this intention could not be fulfilled. In addressing a body of men of letters, I am bound to assume that each and all of them have a full and satisfactory theory of the origin and functions of literature, but I have no right to assume a corresponding knowledge of the origin and functions of music, to which I must therefore refer at some length, if I am to describe their analogies. The same applies to the constant associations between the two arts. There is more than a mere plausible excuse for giving greater attention to that aspect of the material which is probably the less familiar.

In the days when the theory of evolution was itself at an early stage of its evolution, there was much rivalry amongst investigators to furnish an adequate explanation of the musical impulses of humanity. So far as England is concerned, the controversy may be said to have opened with an

VOL. XXXII.

19

essay on "The Origin and Function of Music," contributed by Herbert Spencer to Fraser's Magazine' in October, 1857. In some of his other writings upon music, Spencer was apt to fall into the trap of seeking facts to substantiate his preconceived notions, rather than theories to account for the facts, as, for instance, when he demonstrated an alleged superiority of Meyerbeer over Mozart by counting the scale passages in a certain number of pages. This essay is, however, free from such weaknesses, and is a clear exposition of that which may be termed the expressive theory. Darwin's opinions, on the other hand, were largely coloured by the direction which his biological speculations had taken, and included music among the primitive means of sexual attraction. James Sully, whose volume entitled Sensation and Intuition' appeared in 1874, was, so far as I am aware, the first to classify musical impressions as emotional, intellectual and aesthetic, which was an important step in clearing up a somewhat confused aspect of the subject. Edmond Gurney published in 1880 a voluminous treatise entitled The Power of Sound,' which is a comprehensive survey of the factors in the problem, though the value of his conclusions is apt to be lessened by his somewhat circumscribed view of music. An important contribution to the aesthetics of music was made by Walter Pater in the course of his essay on "The School of Giorgione." Though the passage is, as it were, only an "aside," it has attracted considerable attention, and been commented upon by several notable writers, from John Addington Symonds to Ernest Newman. Indeed,

although we have not yet produced the ideally equipped specialist in musical aesthetics, we may claim to have furnished no mean contribution to living thought on the subject.

Its broad outline is accessible to any reader who has the curiosity to search the writers I have named. Some of its aspects would, however, remain to be studied with the help of foreign authors, such as, for instance, the psychological effects of music, investigated by Carl Stumpf. Even the pathological abnormalities of the musical faculty have received their share of attention, chiefly from French medical men of the Charcot school. These studies are quite irrelevant to our present purpose. There is, however, one line of thought which is necessary to the completion of this material. It may be summed up in the word "Spieltrieb," which was for a time very dear to some German biologists. It is one of those comprehensive catch-words of which Germans have the speciality, and means the impulse to play-not necessarily upon the piano. The nature of the theory was that the human animal was endowed with a certain amount of energy or driving power. The getting of the necessities of life might absorb all that energy, but also it might not, and in the latter case there would be a surplus which his instinct would prompt him to work off in some useless pastime of the nature of play. To this impulse was ascribed some share in the first making of music.

Now it is not necessary for us to espouse any of the numerous theories which have survived controversy, nor is it even probable that any one of them has a monopoly of truth. It is far more reasonable

to suppose that those of them for which a logical foundation exists point to causes contributory to the existence of music. I should certainly hesitate equally to reject any one of them or to commit myself to its exclusive acceptance. I prefer to group them in better harmony than was ever shown by their propounders. In that entirely non-committal sense it may be said that music originates from several causes, which may be grouped under two heads--the need of expression and the Spieltrieband that it produces on the listener effects of several kinds, for which I accept Sully's classification of emotional, intellectual and aesthetic. The dual origin of music is still visible to-day, as there is a broad distinction to be made between music of meaning, such as a Beethoven symphony, and music of entertainment. Literature being an art of expression, it is essentially with the former that we are concerned when we speak of analogies between the two arts. This also excludes such intermediate functions of music as that of assisting the rhythm of associated movement, in rowing or hauling, which is one of the most primitive uses of music.

But the use of music as a means of expressing emotions covers a wide field. In a certain sense it preceded language, and therefore, literature, as our primitive ancestors, before they were possessed of articulated language, were able to express their emotions by the pitch and timbre of a large variety of inarticulate sounds. These were not musical (save perhaps those which Darwin would attribute to the desire to find favour with the belle of the primitive community), but in their variety of pitch

they contained the first germ of expressive music. Then language came and first of all attached itself to concrete things, and music-that is to say, the modulation of the voice-supplemented this with the abstract emotions. In other words, music began where language left off, and as means of expression that remains their true relation. As language developed and became capable of dealing in abstractions, music also developed and became more subtle, thus retaining its true function, which is to express those shades or extremes of emotion which lie beyond the power of words. If a thought or an emotion can be expressed in words, literature is its medium; if it cannot, it can still be expressed in music. Needless to say, the frontier itself is ill-defined, and often crossed in either direction, the composer attempting to tell that which can be better told in words, and the man of letters attempting the impossible.

It is largely because of this function of transcending the power of words that music has from primitive times played an important part in religion. It is admirably suited for the expression of religious ecstasy. The learned St. Basil has written that melody is a device of the Holy Ghost to keep us in the straight path, and it is not difficult to credit it with greater effect upon a responsive nature than the most eloquent discourse from the pulpit. Although a less inspired writer than St. Basil has recommended it as an easy means of committing the religious texts to memory, even that can scarcely be considered a servile function, as it postulates the power of music. In savage times religion was inevitably associated