As regards his mental education, it is more important for him to know how to think than what to think. A clear discernment is preferable to much information; at any rate, it is better to know but little and to understand that little clearly, than to know a great deal confusedly.
There can be no doubt that a classical education is of great advantage to the musician, not only on account of the refining influence which a familiarity with classical literature exercises upon the artistic mind, but also on account of the languages. An acquaintance with two or three modern languages is almost indispensable to the composer. Latin poetry occurs not unfrequently in Church music; and several old treatises on music have been written in Latin, and are therefore not accessible to musicians unacquainted with this language. It does not, of course, follow that to be a great composer one must know Latin; however, many musicians have thought it advisable in their later years to study this language, when they had not the opportunity of studying it in their youth.
Talented young musicians sometimes appear rather deficient in their mental cultivation. The enthusiasm with which they pursue their musical studies is apt to cause them to neglect other studies. But there is no real deficiency of intellectual gifts; on the contrary, they have generally a great versatility of talent. This often becomes apparent in their later years. Several eminent musicians have evinced much talent for painting. The humorous, witty, and clever remarks of some of our great composers are notorious.
Without having thoroughly mastered the technicalities of the art, it is impossible to achieve anything of artistic value. An assiduous and persevering cultivation of the talent is as necessary as the talent itself. It has generally cost a musical composer long and continued labour to produce a valuable work of art. He attained his aim by knowing what was requisite for its achievement, and by labouring perseveringly to attain it.
As has been already intimated, it is of great importance for the progress of the future composer that his initiatory lessons should be correct, so that there is nothing learnt which afterwards requires to be unlearnt. A bad touch on the pianoforte, or a wrong method of bowing in playing the violin, is scarcely ever entirely remedied in later years. Example is better than precept. A teacher who, by playing to his pupil, can show him how a passage ought to be executed, may save him much time and trouble. Our celebrated singers have generally learnt the most easily the best they are able to accomplish by having been sung to. However, music may be learnt by different methods, and each method may have something to recommend it. The teacher must study the pupil to find out what is the best for him.
Our great composers had generally instruction in singing very early. Indeed, a composer who has not cultivated his voice in childhood is not likely to write vocal music so effectively as would be the case if he had accustomed himself to sing his melodies while inventing them. Even the melodious phrases in his instrumental compositions are likely to be more impressive if he has been a singer from early age.
Furthermore, the young student has to learn to play in a high degree of perfection at least one musical instrument. The pianoforte is—in our time, perhaps—the best suited for his purpose, on account of the harmony and of the arrangement of orchestral works executable on the instrument. Most of our great composers were pianists, harpsichord players, or organists. There are, it is true, exceptions. Gluck's instrument was the violoncello; Spohr's, the violin. But even composers who are not pianists, generally, while composing for the orchestra, make use of the pianoforte.
The best musical performer is he who can play the most simple melody with the greatest expression; and the second best is he who can play the most difficult passages with the greatest correctness. Some pianists of astonishing manual dexterity are unable to play a simple tune with proper expression; others cannot execute well a technically easy sonata by Mozart, because they have not learnt—or, perhaps, have forgotten—the pure expression required for such unaffected music. The execution of many modern pianists is best suited for the performance of their own compositions.
If the young musician is bent upon becoming a distinguished virtuoso, it may easily be disadvantageous to him as a composer, not only on account of the time he will require for practising his fingers, but also because his fingers are apt to induce him to compose for them instead of for the heart. A great composer generally plays one instrument masterly; and he has, probably, found it expedient to learn another instrument or two besides that which he has principally cultivated. If, in addition to the pianoforte, he can play the viola or violoncello in a quartet, or Bach's pedal-fugues on the organ, he possesses the means of familiarising himself more thoroughly with many of our classical compositions than he could possibly do by merely hearing or reading them; and the familiarity thus acquired is beneficial to him. Moreover, some practical experience with wind-instruments is useful to the composer of orchestral works. Our great masters knew this, and acted upon it.
The exercise of the fingers takes up time, but not necessarily much. One hour of practice with great attention is better than three hours of careless practice. The former has not only the advantage that it advances the student more rapidly, but also that it leaves him the time required for other studies, reading, and recreation. Several of our great composers could be named who, notwithstanding their diligent studies from their youth, always found plenty of time for bodily exercise, and for amusements conducive to the preservation of health and energy—such as pedestrian tours, riding, fencing, swimming, dancing, etc.