I
It is lamentable, indeed, that next to nothing has been preserved to us of Greek music. The few fragments which assiduous antiquarians have restored and deciphered are hardly sufficient to suggest its true quality, and even further restorations could do no more than confirm the present evidence, for manuscripts are but the skeleton records—the essence has been lost with the lyres and flutes, it has died with the voices of Anacreon and Sappho.
While we moderns generally deny to music any direct correspondence with the realities of life, the Greeks held it to be the most ‘imitative’ or representative of arts.[32] Not only states of feeling, but also ethical qualities and dispositions of mind were reproduced by musical ‘imitation,’ and on the close correspondence between the copy and the original depended the importance of music in the formation of character. Aristotle in his ‘Politics’ says: ‘In rhythm and melodies we have the most realistic imitation of anger and mildness, as well as of courage, temperance, and all their opposites.’ Here is an important element in the Greek conception of music, radically different from our own. Its imputed educational value, its influence upon the character of the youth, and even its therapeutic powers are no less foreign to our modern ideas.
Plato in his ‘Republic’ sets down the study of music and its regulation as an essential part of the ideal commonwealth. ‘Beginning from early childhood,’ he says, ‘they teach and admonish their sons as long as they live....’ ‘Again the music masters in the same way pay attention to sobriety of behavior and take care that the boys commit no evil, and when they have learned to play upon the lyre they teach them all the compositions of other good poets, lyric poets, setting them to music, and they compel Modes and Harmony to become familiar to the boys’ souls in order that they may become more gentle, and, being themselves more rhythmical and harmonious, they may be serviceable in word and deed; for the whole life of man requires rhythm and harmony.’ And elsewhere in the same work: ‘But when handsome amusements are appointed them in their infancy, and when by means of music they embrace that amusement which is according to law (contrariwise to the others), this music attends them in everything else and grows with them, and raiseth up in the city whatever formerly was fallen down.’
As illustrative of the moral import of music Plato says: ‘Is it indeed then according as I say, that we shall never become musicians, neither we ourselves, nor the guardians we say we are to educate, before we understand the images of temperance, fortitude, liberality and magnificence, and the other sister virtues?...’ Hierocles attests Pythagoras’ belief in the therapeutic powers of music in the following quotation: ‘He look’d on Musick as a great advantage to Health and made use of it in the diseases of the body as well as of the Soul; for, as Plato said after him, Perfect Musick is a Compound of Voices and of Instrumental Harmony. The Voice alone is more perfect than instruments alone; but it wants one thing to complete its Perfection; and that one thing is Harmony: and Instruments alone, without a voice, yield only rambling and extravagant Sounds, which may indeed affect and move the Soul, but cannot instruct nor form the Manners which ought to be the chief end of Musick.’[33]
Before considering the probable character and form of ancient Hellenic compositions we must record that music hardly existed among the Greeks as an independent art. The word [Greek: mousikê] held a much broader meaning than our own word music; it included poetry, at least in its narrower sense, and in a measure dancing and mimetics. Likewise it was closely allied, through their philosophy, to mathematics and astronomy. But to say that music was subordinate to poetry is inaccurate, for, while vocal compositions, both solo and choral, made up the bulk of Greek music, instrumental music was practised not only in accompaniment, but independently also, and virtuosity on the kithara and aulos was developed to a considerable degree. The great musicians of Greece, however, were at the same time its great poets. Homer and Hesiod may be thought of as musicians, no less than Pindar, the adored creator of the first dithyramb, and Æschylus, the greatest of dramatists. It may be interesting at this point to reproduce the table compiled by Aristides Quintilianus (second century A. D.), one of the most eminent Greek theoreticians of the Roman era, to show the various branches of musical science as then understood. This illustrates clearly the union of poetry and music, the perfect fusion of two arts in which neither predominated, but was only an inherent part of the other.
The earliest references to the art, in the works of Homer and Hesiod,[34] who themselves may be deemed the first poetic singers of record, are clothed in mythical terms, and a brief review of these references may be of interest as reflecting the racial attitude toward music. In Hesiod we read much about the immortal muses, the nine daughters of Zeus (all-father) and Mnemosyne (memory), and of these especially three are of interest to us: Calliope, the muse of epic song; Euterpe, the muse of melody and lyric poetry, and Terpsichore, the muse of choral dance. According to Homer these entertained the gods by singing (Iliad, i, 604), while song itself the poet considered a direct gift of the gods.
The greatest mythical figure of Greek music is Orpheus, who, like all the early civilizers of Hellas, was a Thracian, a people afterward considered barbarous by the Athenians. Orpheus was said to be the son of the king of Thrace, by the muse Calliope, but another account makes Apollo his father. He was one of the Argonauts, and indeed it was the stirring tones of his lyre as he chanted of adventure on the sea that stirred the good ship Argo to her launching when all the strength of the heroes had failed in the task. On passing the Island of the Sirens the Argonauts owed their safety to Orpheus, for, taking his lyre, he sang so loudly and so sweetly as to overpower the Sirens’ melodies, whereby all escaped unscathed save Butes, who plunged overboard only to be snatched up by Aphrodite. Again it was the urging of Orpheus’ lyre that gave the strength to the Argonautic rowers to speed between the clashing rocks, the Sympleglades, after the dove had passed through and the rocks had recoiled. The skill with which he plucked the strings moved even the trees and rocks, and the wild beasts of the forest surrounded him in delighted transports as he sang.
The story of Orpheus and his wife, the nymph Eurydice, is perhaps the best known of all myths connected with music. Eurydice, it is said, was slain by the bite of a serpent as she was fleeing from the unwelcome love of Aristæus, son of Apollo. Orpheus determined to descend to the Underworld, and, using the power of melody to soften the hearts of the rulers of that abode of Darkness and of Death, to regain possession of his beloved. Armed with his lyre, he easily obtained admittance to the realm of Hades, and in course of time made good his entrance to the palace of Pluto. At the music of his lyre the wheel of Ixion stopped, Tantalus forgot the thirst which was his eternal torture, for a moment the vulture ceased his perpetual gnawing at the vitals of Tityus and Pluto, and Proserpina granted the prayer of the impassioned melodist, with one condition only: that he should not look back upon his almost-rescued wife before he had reached with her the confines of the land of darkness. Impelled by love and eagerness, Orpheus violated this condition and Eurydice vanished evermore from his sight.
Of the poetical works ascribed to Orpheus, those which remain appear to have been written chiefly by Onamacritus and Cercops, and they illustrate some of the earliest forms of hymns with a musical accompaniment. Orpheus is also credited with the formulation of an augmentation of the scale, having added two strings to the seven-stringed lyre which Apollo had given him.
The legend of Amphion also signifies the peculiar veneration in which music was held by the Greeks. The son of Zeus (or Jupiter) and Antiope, he became king of the Thebans, and Hermes gave him a lyre of gold. By its power alone, the story runs, he built the walls of Thebes, the stones taking their places in obedience to the strains of his instrument. All of which serves to illustrate the high conception which the Greeks had of the art, how constantly it occupied their thoughts, and what extraordinary powers they ascribed to it. This is further attested by historical evidence showing the place which music occupied in their social system.