The actual character of this music we must gather from the writings about it, rather than the few fragments at hand for analysis. Just as music, because of its moral significance, became the subject of philosophic speculation, so did its scientific side appeal to the analytic mind of the Greeks, and their mathematicians and scientists in general expatiated at length upon its theory. From their writings we adduce first of all the fact that Greek music lacked at least one of the important elements of modern music, namely, polyphony—or harmony—the quality which of all, from a modern point of view, appeals most directly to our emotions, to our susceptibility, which is most closely associated with color and ‘mood.’ Investigators, such as Westphal, Gevaert, etc., have untiringly striven to establish evidence of something more than simple homophony in the music of antiquity, but beyond a slight deviation in the instrumental accompaniments, partaking of the nature of grace notes, they have discovered traces of nothing but melody at the unison—or at the distance of an octave, when men and boys (or women) sang together, or when the voice was accompanied by an instrument of higher or lower pitch. Such and nothing more is the import of the testimony of Aristotle, when he says: ‘Why is symphonous or antiphonal singing more pleasing than harmony? Is it not because it is the consonance of the octave? For antiphony is born of the voices of young boys and men, whose tones are equal in distance from each other as is the highest note of an octave from the lowest’ (Problems xix, 29). Curious as it may seem that it should never have occurred to a people intellectually so advanced to venture experiments in the field of polyphony; that it should never have entered their minds to strike two strings of the lyre or kithara simultaneously, or that an occasional false note struck along with the right one should not have suggested the possibilities of the ‘third dimension’ in music, it remains a fact that in all the mass of theoretical and technical writings upon the art sufficient to reconstruct the entire ‘system’ of Greek music, no mention is made of harmony or polyphony.[35] We can only conclude then that combinations other than the perfect consonance of the octave, all mixtures of sounds or a confusion of lines, were hostile to the Greek ideal of purity, to the underlying principle of classic simplicity.

Thus the Greeks, reduced to the resources of rhythm and melody as means of musical expression, developed these to a very high degree, in the fineness of its distinctions advanced even beyond the point which we have as yet found it necessary to reach in modern music. Their rhythm, while no doubt it had a distinct and independent existence, was primarily determined by the accent of the spoken word, the metres of poetry. Even if conceived as a musical entity, it must at all times be thought of as pertaining to the text rather than the melody. The earliest rhythm of which we have knowledge is the hexameter of the Homeric epics, and it is doubtful whether any variety in rhythmic structure was introduced until the introduction of the short iambic measures at a later period. Melody, on the other hand, while subjected to certain laws, and at first perhaps nothing more than a monotonous chant or declamation at slightly varying pitch, finally attained a variety of line and freedom of movement which rendered it capable of the most subtle shades of expression. This, we are informed, was due to a complex system of modes or scales, of genera and chroai, which, if we understand them correctly, would credit the Greek ear with much finer distinctions of pitch than we are capable of to-day.

A full discussion of this system is beyond our present purpose, and the numerous controversies concerning it, which in many respects are still unsettled, place the matter outside the pale of true history; but a brief statement of its development (in historical sequence) is necessary for the comprehension of the terms which must recur in the course of our sketch.

III

We have seen that the Greeks recognized the consonance of the octave. Similarly they recognized at an early period the close relationship of the interval of the perfect fifth, and its inversion, the perfect fourth. The latter became the basis of the Greek system of scales. They divided the interval into unequal smaller intervals according to three methods, or genera, in each case placing the larger steps at the top and the smaller at the bottom. (An equal division of the interval has, as far as we know, never been attempted and is entirely foreign to natural impulses.) The results obtained were as follows:

The Three Genera.

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Of these three tetrachords (from [Greek: tetra] = four and [Greek: chordon] = string) only the first was generally accepted, the chromatic was rarely used and the enharmonic probably only by virtuosi, for we have the testimony of Aristoxenus that the ear accustomed itself only with difficulty to the distinction of quarter tones.

By joining two diatonic tetrachords together we obtain a series of notes corresponding to the Dorian scale or mode ([Greek: harmonia])—more properly ‘octave species’—which was accounted the oldest of all the modes: