There is, however, in music, less liberty for the performer than for the master-inventor; and this is as it should be: we interpret his greater mind. Wilful music is seldom pleasing.
What Ruskin says about truth of line in drawing applies equally to music: In the rapid passages of a presto by Beethoven, the audience at St. James's Hall would know if Hallé played one single note out, even if he slightly touched the corner of a wrong black key; for our ears have been wonderfully trained. And the time must be as accurate as the tone, and the proper degree of light and shade must be expressed, or you are no master. What must it be to be the creator of the music which it is so difficult even to copy!
Yet in our drawing-rooms we permit people to talk all the time music is being played, showing respect neither to the composition nor to the performer. This should not be, and abroad this ill-bred custom has not obtained.
There is, however, something to be said on the other side. The music we hear in society is frequently either flimsy and not worth studying; or it is too difficult for the capacity of the performer, perhaps having been learnt in too idle a manner, in which case conversation shields the composer.
But the chief cause of the distressing rudeness complained of, is that there is too much music at a party, and it is not well arranged. Glees are got up and fail deplorably; harps and flutes are not in tune with other instruments; people accompany songs they have never seen before; and much time and talk are consumed in wishing for absent tenor or bass voices. A little good music would have been delightful; the noise of so many imperfect efforts is only a bore.
In our parties we carelessly lose Nature's purest delights: those which appeal most strongly to our finest perceptions. Is it not true enjoyment to sit among the roses on a balcony listening to a sweet voice within singing an air of Schubert or Mozart? And if the charm be enhanced by moonlight, it is a pleasure for the gods!
It is true that roses will not flourish on London balconies, the coal-smoke being so injurious to them; but pinks, and many other fragrant flowers, grow well and easily, without the cost of frequent renewal required for roses. The general use of window gardens, and the due encouragement of greenery over our houses, would tend much to improve our vitiated atmosphere, and we may have the gratification of feeling that we are doing good to our neighbours while we cultivate plants for our own benefit. Perhaps, by-and-by, a tax may be charged upon every empty window-sill.
The front and back of every house would make a good-sized bit of garden, only it will be perpendicular instead of horizontal. We ought all to grow our own pears trained against the walls, as these ripen as well in town as in the country; and most of us might dwell under our own vines and fig-trees.
A balcony, however small it may be, is an extra room, and frequently it is a good play-room for children if kept clean and well syringed. No training is better for children than the culture of flowers—it unites work and play with every advantage of both. It is an education in itself. Mr. Gladstone calls the love of flowers a peculiarly English taste. He seems to have forgotten the special fondness for plants shown by the French and Belgians; though the Dutch tulip mania reminds one somewhat of a commercial speculation. His remarks on the children's flower-show held at Grosvenor House merit particular attention. He observes that owing to the increased value of land, large masses of the population are removed from contact with nature, and at this period it is important that every family should learn that they possess a resource in the cultivation of flowers both in their cottages and windows, and at every point where contact with the open air may be obtained. He hopes that with the needful improvements in the dwellings of the poor, some means may be devised for fostering cottage horticulture and cottage floriculture.
Wind and scorching sunshine are the great adversaries to window gardening, but both of these evils may be obviated by simple contrivances in the way of screens.