be supposed that human art will ever attempt to exprefs by written fymbols. In a word, it is plain, that nature intended one kind of mufic for men, and another for birds: and we have no more reafon to think, that the former was derived by imitation from the latter, than that the nefts of a rookery were the prototype of the Gothic Architecture, or the combs in a bee-hive of the Grecian. Mufic, therefore, is pleafing, not because it is imitative, but because certain melodies and harmonies have an aptitude to raise certain paffions, affections, and fentiments in the foul. And, confequently, the pleasures we derive from melody and harmony are feldom or never refolvable into that delight which the human mind receives from the imitation of nature. All this, it may be faid, is but a dispute about a word. Be it fo but it is, notwithstanding, a dispute fomewhat material both to art and to science. It is material, in fcience, that philofophers have a determined meaning to their words. and that things be referred to their proper claffes, And it is of importance to every art, that its defign and end be rightly understood, and that artifts be not taught to believe that to be effential to it, which is only adventitious, often impertinent, for the most part unneceffary, and at best but ornamental. SECT. SECT. II. How are the pleasures we derive from Mufic to be accounted for? T was faid, that certain melodies and harmo IT nies have an aptitude to raise certain paffions, affections, and fentiments, in the human foul. Let us now enquire a little into the nature of this aptitude; by endeavouring, from acknowledged principles of the human conftitution, to explain the cause of that pleasure which mankind derive from mufic. I am well aware of the delicacy of the argument, and of my inability to do it justice; and therefore I promise no complete investigation, nor indeed any thing more than a few curfory remarks. As I have no theory to fupport, and as this topic, though it may amufe, is not of any great utility, I fhall be neither pofitive in my affertions, nor abftruse in my reasoning. The vulgar diftinguish between the fenfe of hearing, and that faculty by which we receive pleasure from mufic, and which is commonly called a musical ear. Every body knows, that to hear, and to have a relifh for melody, are two different things; and that many persons have the firft in perfection, who are deftitute of the last. The last is indeed, like the firft, a gift of nature; and may, like other natural gifts, languish if neglected glected, and improve exceedingly if exercifed. And though every perfon who hears, might no doubt, by inftruction and long experience, be made fenfible of the mufical properties of found, fo far as to be in fome measure gratified with good mufic and disgusted with bad; yet both his pain and his pleasure would be very different in kind and degree, from that which is conveyed by a true mufical ear. 1. Does not part of the pleasure, both of melody and of harmony, arife from the very nature of the notes that compofe it? Certain inarticulate founds, efpecially when continued, produce very pleafing effects on the mind. They feem to withdraw the attention from the more tumultuous concerns of life, and, without agitating the foul, to pour gradually upon it a train of fofter ideas, that fometimes lull and foothe the faculties, and fometimes quicken fenfibility, and ftimulate the imagination. Nor is it abfurd to fuppofe, that the human body may be mechanically affected by them. the floor, and the pew, of the organ; if one string vibrates of its own accord when another is founded near it of equal length, tenfion, and thickness; if a person who fneezes, or fpeaks loud, in the neighbourhood of a harpsichord, often hears the ftrings of the inftrument murmur in the fame tone; we need not wonder, that fome of the finer fibres of the human frame should be put in a tremulous motion, when they happen to be in unifon with any If in a church one feels tremble to certain tones notes proceeding from external objects. That certain bodily pains might be alleviated by certain founds, was believed by the Greeks and Romans: and we have it on the best authority, that one fpecies at least of madness was once curable by melody*. I have feen even inftrumental music of little expreffion draw tears from thofe who had no knowledge of the art, nor any particular relish for it. Nay, a friend of mine, who is profoundly skilled in the theory of mufic, well acquainted with the animal economy, and fingularly accurate in his inquiries into nature, affures me, that he has been once and again wrought into a feverish fit by the tones of an Eolian harp. These, and other fimilar facts that might be mentioned, are not eafily accounted for, unless we suppose, that certain founds may have a mechanical influence upon certain parts of the human body.-Be that however as it will, it admits of no doubt, that the mind may be agreeably affected by mere found, in which there is neither meaning nor modulation; not only by the tones of the Eolian harp, and other mufical inftruments, but alfo by the murmur of winds, groves, and water-falls+; nay by the fhouts of multitudes, by the uproar of the ocean in a storm; and, when one can liften to it without fear, by * First book of Samuel, chap. xvi. verf. 23. + Quæ tibi, quæ tali reddam pro carmine dona? Eclog. 5. that that "deep and dreadful organ-pipe‡," the thunder itself. P Nothing is more valued in a mufical inftrument or performer, than fweetness, fullness, and variety of tone. Sounds are difagreeable, which hurt the ear by their fhrillnefs, or which cannot be heard without painful attention on account of their exility. But loud and mellow founds, like thofe of thunder, of a ftorm, and of the full organ, elevate the mind through the ear; even as vast magnitude yields a pleasurable aftonishment, when contemplated by the eye. By fuggefting the idea of great power, and fometimes of great expanfion too, they excite a pleafing admiration, and feem to accord with the lofty genius of that foul whose chief defire is for truth, virtue, and immortality, and the object of whose most delightful meditation is the greatest and beft of Beings +. Sweetness of tone, and beauty of fhape and colour, produce a placid acquiefcence of mind, accompanied with fome degree of joy, which plays in a gentle fmile upon the countenance of the bearer and beholder. Equable founds, like fmooth and level furfaces, are in general more pleasing than such as are rough, uneven, or interrupted; yet, as the flowing curve, fo effential to elegance of figure, and fo confpicuous in the outlines of beautiful animals, is delightful to the eye; fo notes gradually fwelling, and gra ↑ Shakespear's Tempest. + See Longinus, fect. 34. Spectator, No. 413. Pleafures of Imagination, book 1. verf. 151. &c. dually |