Music Talks with Children Part 3

If we are faithful to these we shall, with increasing study and industry, become more and more independent of the piano. We shall never think with our hands, nor depend upon anything outside of ourselves for the meaning contained in printed tone-thought.

If now we join two things we shall get the strength of both united, which is greater than of either alone.

If in our playing lessons we have only the very purest music (heart music, remember), and if we are faithful in our simpler thinking lessons, we shall gain the power not only of pure thought, but of stronger and stronger thought. This comes of being daily in the presence of great thoughts--for we are in the presence of great thoughts when we study great music, or read a great poem, or look at a great picture, or at a great building. All these things are but signs made manifest,--that is to say, made plain to us--of the pure thought of their makers.

Thomas Carlyle, a Scotch author of this century, spoke very truly when he said:

"Great men are profitable company; we cannot look upon a great man without gaining something by him."[22]

CHAPTER VII.

WHAT WE SEE AND HEAR.

"You must feel the mountains above you while you work upon your little garden."--_Phillips Brooks._[23]

Somewhere else we shall have some definite lessons in music-thinking.

Let us then devote this Talk to finding out what is suggested to us by the things we see and hear.

Once a boy wrote down little songs. When the people asked him how he could do it, he replied by saying that he made his songs from thoughts which most other people let slip. We have already talked about thought and about learning to express it. If a person of pure thought will only store it up and become able to express it properly, when the time comes he can make little songs or many other things; for all things are made of thought. The poem is stored-up thought expressed in words; the great cathedral like the one at Winchester, in England, or the one near the Rhine, at Cologne, in Germany, is stored-up thought expressed in stone. So with the picture and the statue: they are stored-up thought on canvas and in marble.[24] In short, we learn by looking at great things just what the little ones are; and we know from poems and buildings and the like, that these, and even commoner things, like a well-kept garden, a tidy room, a carefully learned lesson, even a smile on one's face result, every one of them, from stored-up thought.

We can consequently make a definition of THINGS by saying they are what is thought. Things are made of thought. Even if you cannot understand this fully now, keep it by you and as you grow older its truth will be more and more clear. It will be luminous. Luminous is just the word, for it comes from a word in another language and means _light_. Now the better you understand things the more _light_ you have about them. And out of this you can understand how well ignorance has been compared with darkness. Hence, from the poem, the building, the painting, the statue, and from commoner things we can learn, as it was said in a previous Talk, that music is stored-up thought told in beautiful tones.

Now let us heed the valuable part of all this. If poems, statues, and all other beautiful things are made out of stored-up thought (and commoner things are, too), we ought to be able, by studying the things, to tell what kind of a person it was who thought them; or, in other words, who made them. It is true, we can. We can tell all the person's thought, so far as his art and princ.i.p.al work are concerned.

Nearly all his life is displayed in the works he makes. We can tell the nature of the man, the amount of study he has done, but best of all we can tell his meaning. The face tells all its past history to one who knows how to look.[25] His intentions are everywhere as plain as can be in what he does.

Thus you see there is more in a person's work than what we see at the first glance. There are reflections in it as plain as those in a mountain lake. And as the mountain lake reflects only what is _above_ it, so the work of the musician, of the artist, of any one in fact, reflects those thoughts which forever hover above the others. Thoughts of good, thoughts of evil, thoughts of generosity, thoughts of selfish vanity, these, _and every other kind_, are so strongly reflected in the work we do that they are often more plainly seen than the work itself. And with the works of a great artist before us we may find out not only what he did and what he knew, but what he felt _and even what he did not want to say_.

We now know what music-thinking is. Also, we see why the young musician needs to learn to think music. Really, he is not a musician until he can think correctly in tone. And further than this, when we have some understanding of music-thought we not only think about what we play and hear, but we begin to inquire what story it tells and what meaning it should convey. We begin to seek in music for the thought and intention of the composer, and, little by little, even before we know it, we begin to seek out what kind of mind and heart the composer had. We begin really to study his character from the works he has left us.

We have now taken the first really intelligent step toward knowing for ourselves something about common and cla.s.sic music. Later on, as our ability increases, this will be of great value to us. We begin to see, bit by bit, what the author intended. That is the real test of it all.

We do not want to find mere jingle in music, we want music that says something. Even a very young child knows that "eenty meenty meiny moe"

is not real sense, though it is a pleasant string of sounds to say in a game.

Thus we learn to look into what we hear and into what we see and try to find how much thought there is in it, and the kind of thought it is. We want to know if goodness is expressed; if the best work of the man is before us, or if, for a lower reason, his selfishness and vanity are most prominent. And let us remember that as we seek these things in the works of others, so others of thoughtful kind will watch our doings, our playing, our speech, our little habits, and all to see what our intentions are each time we express ourselves. They will look to see what thoughts we are putting into our doings, whether thoughts of goodness or of selfishness. And our actions will always be just as good as the thought we put into them.

Now a great and a common mistake is, that sometimes we hope by some mysterious change, as in a fairy tale, that they will be better than what we intend. But in the first days let us learn that this is not possible.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE CLa.s.sICS.[26]

"Genuine work done faithfully, that is eternal."--_Thomas Carlyle._

The older we grow and the more we study, the more we shall hear about the cla.s.sics, about cla.s.sic music, and cla.s.sic art, and cla.s.sic books.

From the beginning let us keep it in our minds that one of our duties is to find out the difference between what is cla.s.sic and what is not.

Then we shall have a proper understanding. An English writer on art says: "The writers and painters of the cla.s.sic school set down nothing but what is known to be true, and set it down in the perfectest manner possible in their way."[27]

And we have already learned that thought from the heart, expressed in tones, is good music. On the other hand, a thought with the heart not in it, expressed in tone, makes poor or common music. Mendelssohn wrote in one of his letters: "When I have composed a piece just as it springs from my heart, then I have done my duty toward it."[28] But in writing thoughts, whether in words or in tones, there is a very important thing to add to the bidding of the heart. It is the training of the mind. With both of these one works and judges wisely.

With thought and intention ever so pure, but with no education, one would not be able to write for others, and with a little education one would be able to write only in a partially correct way. This brings us to one of the most interesting Talks we shall have. Let us try to make it clear and simple.

We can easily imagine a man both true and good who can neither write nor spell. Happily, in these days, nearly all people who are old enough know how to do both. We can understand that this man may have beautiful thoughts--the thoughts of a true poet or of a true artist--but being unable to write or to spell he could not put his thoughts on paper for others to read and to study. This is the way thoughts are preserved and made into books so that people may benefit by them.

It would, therefore, be necessary for this man, about whom we speak, to get the a.s.sistance of some one who knew how to write thoughts and to spell their words. Then, together, they would have to talk about the thoughts, choose proper words, form the sentences, and make all fit rightly together as a writer must who desires to be clear. But it is more than likely that the one who writes would not do all these things to the satisfaction of the other. Of this there could be but one result. The person who had the beautiful thoughts would be forever wis.h.i.+ng that he had learned in the first days to write and to spell.

Then he could do all these things for himself and show his thoughts to others exactly as he wished them to appear.

Now it is clear that some may have beautiful and valuable thoughts and not know how to write them, while others may have the ability to write without having thoughts worth preserving. Evidently what one must have are both beautiful thoughts and ability to write them.

Did you think when I read you that bit from the letter of Mendelssohn that all a composer has to do is to find in his heart just what he wants to say? As we have already discovered, that is not enough. To show you that Mendelssohn was not afraid of hard work let us read a little from another of his letters.[29] Mendelssohn had resolved to work in Germany and maintain himself. "If I find that I cannot do this, then I must leave it for London or Paris, where it is easier to get on. I see indeed where I should be more honored, and live more gaily and more at my ease than in Germany, where a man must press forward, and toil, and take no rest,--still, if I can succeed there, _I prefer_ the latter."[30]

We can now understand that it is quite the same with word-thinkers and with tone-thinkers. Good thoughts and the proper writing of them make the cla.s.sics.

Out of this thought there comes another. It is this: Great thoughts, expressed well, out of a great heart, make the works which last the longest; and still further, for one truth leads out of another. Only they can appreciate the cla.s.sics who have something that is cla.s.sic within them. They must have the heart true in its feeling, tender in its sentiments. Even a child can have that. They must have the mind trained in the truest and best way of expressing thought. And a child may begin to learn that. Hence we see that a child may be cla.s.sic worthy. Only we must never, _never_, no matter what is our ability, think we are better or above others. The more talents one has the more one is expected to do and the greater duty it is.[31]

Thus far we have three truths; now here is a fourth: Some love the cla.s.sics sooner and better than others because they have more power.

And how do they get it? They think more (thought-making); they feel more (heart-learning); and they see more (truth-seeking).

Let us at once go back and gather together these four truths. They are important. Perhaps some of us who are willing to spend the time will learn them from memory.

And to repay us for the trouble of doing it we shall have greater and greater understanding of many things. Here they are:

I. Good thoughts and the proper writing of them make the cla.s.sics.

II. Great thoughts, expressed well, out of a great heart, make the works which last the longest.

III. Only they can appreciate the cla.s.sics who have something that is cla.s.sic within them.

IV. Some love the cla.s.sics sooner and better than others because they have more power.

What shall these truths teach us? That true music cannot be learned rapidly; that the way of Art is long and difficult. But if the way is long, it is yet beautiful in every turn; if it is difficult, it is yet worth a struggle for what comes. As you read the lives of the great composers you will learn that they went willingly about their tasks, doing each one well. This is done by all great men. _Great men take short steps carefully_, no matter how rapidly they can go.

One of them [32] wrote: "Success comes with tiny steps." And it comes entirely unsought. Besides all this we are to remember that the power for these things comes from

I. Thought-making;

II. Heart-learning;

III. Truth-seeking.

Now, just to end with let us read a few words from a book I trust we all may read some day: [33] "Great art is the expression of the mind of a great man, and mean art of a weak man." Let us remember that in choosing things to play.