Although our rulers have not yet recognized the theatre as a possible source of culture, they have done something which to the country at large is of even greater importance than this would be. They have been gradually introducing vocal music as a regular branch of study in our public schools. In this matter we seem to have anticipated England, for while singing was introduced in the schools of Boston more than forty, and in Baltimore more than thirty, years ago, in the British House of Commons only twenty-five years ago, when a member proposed that singing should be taught in all schools, as in Germany, "the suggestion was received with ridicule, and was deemed deserving of no other response than a loud laugh." But there has also been, and still is, some opposition to its general introduction in this country. Only a few months ago the St. Louis press urged its removal from the schools on the ground that it is one of the "ornamental" studies, and that more time is in that city, for instance, devoted to it than to the practical subjects of geography and arithmetic. This last objection has not much force. All that is really practical and generally useful in geography and arithmetic can be learned in a few years, whereas to make progress in the difficult art of music it is necessary to begin early and continue for many years. The true answer to such an objection is, that there is no need of neglecting either of these branches. There is time enough for all of them if only a proper method of instruction be pursued. Still more untenable is the idea that music is merely an ornamental study and of no practical value. This idea rests on the mistaken theory of education which holds that only the intellect needs training. If our sole aim is to get something to eat and to drink, and a house to shelter us from the weather, then we need only cultivate the intellect so that we may be able to compete with others. But if we care for beautiful homes, if we wish to enjoy life in a higher sense than that in which a savage enjoys it, and to make ourselves and others happy, then the training of the emotions through music is as important as the training of the intellect in a practical and not an "ornamental" sense.
Fortunately, none of the objections hitherto urged against singing in public schools have been able to effect any change for the worse. Vocal music is now taught in the common schools of nearly every city and large town in New England and the Northern and Western States. In Boston—which has always been noted for its excellence in this department—thanks to the intelligent labors of Mr. Lowell Mason and Mr. Julius Eichberg, it is now possible, on occasion, to raise a chorus of five thousand well-trained juvenile voices. And it is gratifying to observe with what unanimity the good influence of public-school singing is attested by the commissioners of all those States which have given it a fair trial. The grounds on which it is usually commended are that it puts life and variety into the dull routine of studies—that it promotes order and discipline, stimulates the social feelings, electrifies the wearied nervous system, conduces to health by the regular and vigorous exercise of the lungs, trains the moral sentiments by refining the æsthetic emotions, and tends to improve the congregational singing in our churches. To quote the language of the Commissioner of Education (Report for 1873): "Experience proves that as music is perfected and used in the daily routine of school duties, just in that proportion are the deportment and general appearance of the schools improved." Indeed, it is difficult to calculate all the good results that in course of time must follow from general musical instruction in our schools. It is certainly the only effective method of removing in a few generations the reproach that we are not a musical people. In Germany—which perhaps has done more for music than all other countries combined—the foundation for musical culture is laid in the schools by the singing of folk-songs (Volkslieder) and chorals in three-or four-part harmony. And those who have read the history of music know that these same folk-songs and chorals were the first musical fruits grown on German soil: they were the fruits on which in past centuries the people lived and formed their taste. It is evident, therefore, that in now teaching these folk-songs and chorals to their children the Germans are guided by that important law of evolution which shows that the development of the child partly does, and partly should be made to, conform to the development of the race, step by step.
There is no reason why we should not follow this same principle. Of course it will not be necessary to confine ourselves to German folk-songs, although these are on the whole the best. We are a mixed people, compounded of all nationalities, and hence the folk-songs of Italy, France, Scotland, Russia and various other countries should all be acclimated in our schools. There is something peculiarly healthy and fresh about folk-songs which one only finds again in the very highest efforts of individual creative genius. They are like flowers that have grown up in virgin forests, nurtured by rain and sunshine, fanned by vigorous breezes and shielded from all the hot-house influences of a morbid civilization. So rich and spontaneous are many of these melodies that they can be thoroughly enjoyed even when sung without harmony or accompaniment, while for advanced classes it is easy to write second and third vocal parts, thus adding to their interest and value.
While early familiarity with the best of these songs would have a good effect in refining the popular sense of melody, the appreciation of what came last and is highest in music—of harmonic progressions—could best be taught by a similar familiarity with the German four-part chorals. They are the very embodiment of vigorous, soul-stirring harmony, the basis of sacred, as the Volkslied is of secular, music. "Each of our churches," says Thibaut, the author of the celebrated little book on Purity in Musical Art, "had a period of the highest enthusiasm, which will never return, and each of them has at this very period of the most ardent religious zeal done its utmost for the development of its song." The German choral is the result of the intense devotional feelings which existed among the early Protestant congregations, and it is evident that a wholesome religious spirit could with it be introduced in our schools in a manner which could be objectionable to no denomination. In course of time these chorals might then be transferred to our churches, where they might well take the place of the easier but very eccentric melodies and incorrect harmonies now too often heard there.
Henry T. Finck.
OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.
A SUCCESSFUL ENTERPRISE.
IN one of the side streets of a city which fronts on Long Island Sound is to be found a curiosity-shop whose show-window challenges the attention of all lovers of the quaint and queer by its jumble of cracked and ancient porcelain, old-fashioned brasses and small articles of more or less valuable bric-à-brac. Inside, the three small rooms are crowded with sets of delft and willow china, old candlesticks, clocks, andirons, fenders, high-backed chairs and the like. The whole aspect of the place is shabby and dingy, and the antique furniture has no chance of showing either its worth or its dignity amid such surroundings; yet the traffic which goes on in this "curiosity-shop" has already brought a respectable fortune to the owner, and promises, if the rage for revivals of ancient fashions continues, to make him a capitalist. Knapp, as we will call this dealer in second-hand furniture and bric-à-brac, began his trade some five or six years ago. He was originally a tin-peddler, travelling up and down the country with his wagon, offering tin and glass ware in return for rags, feathers and old metals. Knapp probably had, to start with, a touch of that original genius which transmutes the most ordinary conditions of life into means of personal aggrandizement. He laid the stepping-stone to his fortune when it one day occurred to him to accept a piece of old-fashioned Wedgwood ware in return for half a dozen shining tins. It was an inspiration which he considered half a weakness, but he yielded to it, and afterward had cause to congratulate himself when he found an opportunity for disposing of the cup at a remunerative rate. This gave him an impulse of curiosity toward any heirlooms in the way of china and pottery to be found among the farmers' wives in the section of New England he traversed; and his activities soon had their reward. At that date the passion for ceramics was but just beginning to invade our cities, and not a suspicion of it stirred the minds of the good women who artlessly opened their cupboards and displayed their treasures of Worcester china and willow-ware to the ingratiating Knapp. No man in the world was ever better calculated to drive good bargains for himself, yet leave an impression on his victim's mind that the peddler's interest in a "sort of china which matched a set his grandmother used to have" was running away with his better judgment.