the successful musicians that we know anything about have begun their studies in early life, and with little or no thought as to keeping pace with other developments. Would it be stretching a point to assume that a liberal education also begins in the tender years-that, in fact, an education which begins at a point beyond adolescence can not possibly be liberal, but must be restricted and unsymmetrical? All that one ever learns and retains must be a part of his education whatever designation it may be allowed to as

sume.

There is this trouble about music. You will observe that both of the learned professors whom I have quoted have much to say about the terrible consequence of improper methods; and we are almost led to conclude that it would be much better for the child to know nothing about music until he or she can by some good luck get hold of the right method, or, to speak more plainly, of the teacher who has the right method. In the language of Josh Billings, "It is better to know less than to know so many things that are not so."

So, after all, there may be a place in a liberal education where it is safest to begin and to pursue the study of music; and if I only knew where it was I would state it here and now. There is nothing illiberal about me except my education, and I should be only too glad to meet all honest expectations. If it should ever come to my knowledge that since my subject has been announced in your program, any anxious soul has been waiting to know at what precise point in a liberal education the study of music should begin; or even how much of the time usually given to the classics should be surrendered to the violin, the flute or the college glee club, I shall sincerely regret my inability to lay

down the rule in an authoritative and perfunctory manner.

Meanwhile, as I can do nothing for you, will you do something for me? Some ten or fifteen years ago, in the old Moody and Sankey days, I undertook, one evening, to get into the great auditorium filling the place now occupied by the Madison Square Garden. I got there in good time, but 10,000 people had assembled before me. The main entrance on 27th St. was not yet open and the immense crowd of earnest seekers after religion and excitement filled the street from Fourth to Madison Avenues. It was an orderly, decent crowd, though not lacking in some slight evidences of impatience. Finally, a clear, resonant voice in the very midst of the crowd struck up the familiar hymn that Sankey had invested with such religious fervor "I Need Thee Every Hour." In a moment, other voices joined, and then others, and all at once there broke forth such a chorus as will seldom be heard this side of heaven. From Madison Ave. to Fourth, and from one side to the other of 27th St., 'rolled this great volume of sound. I do not know how many trained musicians were in the crowd. Probably not many who would call themselves so, or who would be so reckoned by any standard that musicians recognize. There were besides, no doubt, a good many discordant voices, and voices that if not fortified and sustained on every side would wander from the key; but these were as drops in the ocean, buried and silenced in the great wave of harmony that filled the street and seemed to ascend to the very vaults of heaven. Never in my life was I so much moved. Never before did I realize what a heavenly choir might be. It awed me into silence and tears. It was a great petition for help voiced by 10,000 earnest men and women, and going, as it seemed.

to me, directly to the throne of grace The impression of that great occasion has never left me, and never have I heard from a human voice or instrument anything that so fully realized my idea of music.

Some ten years ago I was detained for a few days at Varesa, in Italy, which gave me the opportunity I had so long desired to visit the Sacred Mountain in that vicinity. The Sacred Mountain of Varesa is a shrine for pilgrims, and from midway to the top is a literal representation of the life of Christ, told in plastic art. There are five stations, as I remember, each station embodying in its appropriate figures and surroundings an important step in the sacred history. The first station presents the Annunciation-the angel announcing to Mary the divine birth that is to be. The announcement is made in the humble cottage of the Virgin, which is realistic in all its appointments, even to the simple and sparse furniture in the room. The figures are of life size and admirably done. The next station represents the birth in the manger, with the cattle in their stalls, and the Wise Men doing homage to the infant Messiah. Following this, is the disputation with the doctors in the temple; and next, the trial before Pilate; culminating with the Crucifixion, which is elaborate and suggestive in all its wonderful detail.

I followed this realistic story with a growing interest that I can not describe-I was alone-away from the busy world, upon a mountain-side forever dedicated to a holy purposethe footsteps of the frequent pilgrims had worn the path that I was tread

ing; but on this day and hour I was the only pilgrim, and I made my way from station to station until I reached the crest of the mountain upon which stood the cathedral, which for miles around lighted up. the landscape and marked the sacred spot. The cathedral door was open, and I entered, in a reverent spirit. I was alone in the vast sanctuary, and seating myself in a convenient pew bent my head in meditation. Presently there came through an open door leading into the chapel the notes of a chant rendered by male voices. It was a distant sound at first, and indistinct; but it grew in volume. and in distinctness until it filled the sanctuary, echoing from the vaulted roof and stealing along the corridors in a solemn refrain that lifted my heart in thankfulness for the very gift of life. I waited until the chant was over and quietly withdrew from the sacred precincts, never again to wonder at the fervor and the faith of the Catholic devotee.

I have presented these two experiences of my life, because they stand out so distinctly as examples of what, to my mind, is music. I am sure that the critic and the connoisseur will not be able to find much in either worthy of serious thought; and the question I wish to ask is whether, in view of the fact that I can not take in the opera, am wholly adrift on technique, and find it difficult to distinguish a symphony from a two-step, or Wagner from Sousa, I may still draw comfort from the military band and the village choir-still harbor in my heart of hearts the memories of Madison Square and the Sacred Mountain of Varesa?

small voice spake unto me

"Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?"

Then to the still small voice I said: "Let me not cast in endless shade What is so wonderfully made."

-Tennyson.

HE tonic sol-fa method assumes

Ts its starting-point that all

persons can, and therefore ought to, learn to sing. At the same time, it is an indisputable fact that some persons find much greater difficulty in so doing than do others. It is therefore necessary that all matters, whether musical, or merely notational, shall be so arranged and presented to the class that those persons who find it hard work to grapple with the essential difficulties of music may not have their path obstructed or their attention diverted to matters which, however interesting and important, have no direct bearing on the matter at hand. In so doing, no real injury is done to anyone, for even those who might be able to make progress with a less perfect method will certainly succeed all the better with this, for simple directness is no bar to any. But the needs of those persons who have an imperative claim on our help may not be set aside by any true educator, whether his subject be music or mathematics.

The cohesion of "a major consonant chord," together with the knowledge of the psychological fact, that the mind takes more kindly to those things which agree with each other than it does to those which are antagonistic, led the founder of this method to adopt this chord as the basis of his first step in the teaching of tune. The unqualified success which has ever followed an intelligent adherence to this plan, more especially with those who have difficulty in controlling the voice and the ear, is more than ample justification

for its inception and use; for by its use larger and better results are obtained than would otherwise be possible. I do not seek to place its claims on any higher plane than that, and to place them lower would not measure up to the full standard of the truth.

The paramount importance of the chord of the tonic led Mr. Curwen to select it as the basis of his first step in tune. The power of this chord as a fundamental element is not one whit greater in the matter of harmony, where it has long been fully recognized and acknowledged, than it is in the realm of singing, where it is practically ignored, outside the ranks of sol-faists.

The mode of procedure in this first step in tune may be of interest, and will serve to illustrate the tonic sol-fa method of teaching. Let the teacher begin by singing in a pleasant tone, about the pitch of E, and using for this purpose the syllable laa. On a repetition of this tone, have the class endeavor to reproduce it. When this has been successfully accomplished, let the teacher sing two sounds, which he will think of as the first and the fifth of the scale. At the first hearing, it will be enough to have the class decide whether or not the two sounds were alike. When that point is settled beyond any doubt, then have the class try to reproduce two such sounds, and continue in the effort till they are correctly sung by the children. let the teacher sing a series of say four tones, this time introducing the sound which he thinks of as the third of the scale, and have the children

Next

try to locate it. Frequent change in the location should be made so as to impress this sound on the minds of the class, when no difficulty need be. experienced in getting them to reproduce it. If difficulty remains, it must be owing to a failure sufficiently to impress the sound on the children's minds. The only thing to do in such a case is to impress it more vividly, by a continuation and skilful variation of the same process as before.

Next have the class sing either sound at call, but do not let the calling process be that of "calling out" for the sound wanted, as is too often done, but rather by the use of some quiet sign or signal, which may be readily understood by the children. The signs used by tonic sol-faists for this purpose are the closed hand for the first of the scale, the open hand held with thumb upward for the fifth of the scale, and the open hand held palm downward for the third of the scale. These signs not only serve to indicate the sound wanted, but by their very form also suggest the character of the sound desired. Thus, the first of the scale has a firmness about it which is well suggested by the firmly-closed hand; the gentleness of the third is suggested by the natural sign for quietness, the open hand held palm downward; and so with the other tones when introduced. The use of these signs will be found to exceed by far that grotesque and most unmusical method of calling out for the sound wanted, which is indulged in by many teachers who ought to know better, but who probably have not given the matter a thought, or if they have thought of it, then their conduct is so much the more culpable for continuing in its use.

For the purpose of identification, it will be necessary to find some suitable names for these sounds, and it will be more convenient to adopt

those in common use rather than needlessly to set about the invention of others. Thus, the name for the first of the scale is doh; that for the third is me; for the fifth it is soh. These names apply to the tones of the scale quite irrespective of the key in which it may happen to be written or sung.

It will be well to write these names on the blackboard, placing them one over the other. They will give the children an idea of how these tones are related to each other in pitch, and later how they stand in relation to the other tones of the scale. This diagram on the board will be very useful in further developing the sounds already learned, by the class singing either one as the teacher shall indicate by a pointer.

In writing these names, tonic solfaists have taken the liberty of anglicizing the spelling, which calls for neither explanation nor defence. The final consonant in the name for the fifth of the scale has been omitted, for the reason that final consonants always impair vocalization. The evil effect of the sound of / in sol will at once be apparent to anyone who will try both ways of singing this tone and compare results. Anyone who is not willing to find the truth, by thus comparing these sounds, is not worth the trouble of convincing by some other and poorer method.

The children will now be ready to sing from notes which may be made by the simple expedient of using the initial letter of these note names; thus, d for doh, s for soh, etc. In this way, an exercise something after this fashion may be placed on the board:

dsm sms d ms sms d and the children will find no difficulty in singing it either forward or backward. We are sometimes asked why we do not use the ordinary notes, as

they are written on the staff, for this purpose. But is it not a somewhat unusual course to require a reason from anyone for what they do not do? Most of us will be very well satisfied if we can always give a good reason for those things which we really do. The only reason which occurs to me at this time for using these letters is that they serve the purpose most admirably, which the notes on the staff used in this connection would most certainly fail to do.

Ask a violinist or a piano-tuner why he uses the perfect fifth as the basis of his work in tuning, and he will at once answer that only in this way can he be certain of attaining perfect tune. This tuning-power of an absolutely perfect fifth is too well known to call for any proof at my hands. Will anyone be good enough to give a reason for excluding this potent factor from the tuning of the greatest of all musical instruments— the human voice, where its power is at least as great as in the cases cited, and where its application is infinitely easier?

Having thus given in some detail the various steps in teaching this first stage of tune, it will not be possible for me, without occupying too much. time, to follow this up by an equally full explanation of the processes in the following stages, further than to say that the second step in tune adds the tones of the dominant chord in a manner similar to that already indicated. The third step, by adding the tones of the subdominant chord, completes the scale. It will be found that the intelligent power to use the scale has been immensely increased by the fact of its having been thus built up on its strong harmonic basis, giving greater readiness and facility in its use than could be obtained by the use of any other method. This fact has not been allowed to have its due weight by those who thought

lessly and needlessly, as we think, have set themselves in opposition to all but their own pet scale-running methods. In thus speaking, I must not be understood as seeking to minimize, in the least degree, the great importance of the scale. Rather would I be understood as regarding the scale as being far too important to be left to the mercy of the go-as-you-please way of seeking its acquirement, which too largely prevails among teachers from whom we might expect much better things. The scale thus completed would be shown on a chart called a modulator by sol-faists.

The tonic sol-fa notation of tune consists of the initial letters of the note names, from which they can sing any tune desired. Time is indicated by signs which serve at once to indicate both the accent and the length of the tone following. Thus, a vertical line (1) indicates the strong accent, and also serves to divide the tune into its measures. A colon (:) at once indicates the tone having the weak accent-or the unaccented tones, if you prefer it that way-and it also shows the division of the measure into pulses. A shorter and lighter vertical line further divides the measure, and indicates the medium or half accent which occurs in the middle of some species of time. A horizontal line (-) shows that the note preceding it is to be continued for that division in which this line occurs. No attempt is made to follow the somewhat fanciful distinction which is supposed by some to exist between 3-2, 3-4 and 3-8 times, but three pulses to the measure are shown in only one way. The same is also true of the other forms of measure. shall be glad if anyone can show any practical benefit which might be expected to follow from a discontinuance of this course.

The tones of the scale are always the same, irrespective of the particu