Chapter XXVII At Alexandria — The Final Settlement of the Scale
The structure of the Scale so far as was necessary for the development of the Greek modes was comprised in The Disjunct or Greater System Complete; yet at various times the extent of the diatonic scale by degrees was increased, tetrachord was added to tetrachord until in the days of Plato its compass was stated to have been made to comprehend four octaves, a fifth, and a tone.
Archytas and Aristoxenus were both of Tarentum, a noted Greek colony in Southern Italy, founded by Sparta about 705 B.C. Archytas was a contemporary of Plato (b 429 d 347). The period was one of artistic luxury, the Parthenon had been completed, and Greece had her golden age of Art, Science, and Philosophy. Here Praxiteles, the great sculptor, second only to Phidias, comes upon the scene, and we may with confidence accept his design of Apollo’s Lyre as a true representation of the instrument as it existed in his day, and, it may be assumed as used in Apollo’s Temple, and by the master-musicians. The date of this sculptor has not been ascertained precisely, Prof. E. A. Gardner gives in a guarded way 400 B.C.
Aristoxenus was a musician, the son of a musician, he came at a time when great mathematicians were engaged in battle over fine distinctions in Pythagorean systems, to them of superlative interest and importance. Aristoxenus opposed the Pythagoreans and held that “it was absurd to aim at an artificial accuracy in gratifying the ear beyond its own power of distinction,” a decision very natural, coming from a musician. He was a great writer and theorist, wrote it was said more than four hundred treatises, all of which have been lost except three on “Harmonic Elements,” and this is the oldest musical work at present known.
In those years from Archytas to Aristoxenus the evolution of Greek music had passed from the poet-musicians, the real masters of the lyre, into the hands of philosophers and disputants, men learned in all the subtleties of Pythagorean lore, who busied themselves with recondite demonstrations of the proportions of numbers, and applied them to the theoretical division of the octave, to an extent which transcended altogether the range of the practical art of the cithara players, nevertheless the labour was not wholly lost, since it went to the strengthening of the foundations of the science of music.
A new era had arrived, Greece lost her position and became a dependency in the Macedonian empire. The centre of Greek life and thought had been transferred to Alexandria, and here at the great library which had been founded B.C. 332 by Alexander the Great, Eratosthenes was librarian, and his name figures largely in the mathematics of Music. His lifetime extended from 276 to 196 B.C.
Two other Alexandrians complete the record so far as the present simple treatment of the development of the scale is concerned. They lived within the Christian era.
Didymus, A.D. 60, introduced the minor tone into the scale, and consequently the practical major third. He demonstrated the lesser or minor tone to be necessary to the right division of fourths and fifths.
Claudius Ptolemy, A.D. 130, accepted the scheme, but altered the arrangement of the tones.
Didymus and Claudius Ptolemy, the two latest philosophers who sought to perfect the diatonic scale, achieved highly important results by simple means; whereas the octochord as left by Pythagoras, comprised but two kinds of divisions, the tone and the hemitone (not exactly half a tone, it was the overplus after the measurement of the two whole tones in the tetrachord)—and these, taking C as the starting point for our convenience, may be represented thus:—
| C | ....... | D | ....... | E | ...... | F | ....... | G | ....... | A | ....... | B | ...... | C |
| major tone | major tone | hemi tone | major tone | major tone | major tone | hemi tone |
this was constructed from a series of fifths.
Didymus shewed that the stricter mathematical division (not by fifths) required a lesser or minor tone in place of one major, and the amount of decrease went to increase the hemitone to a semitone, thus:—
| C | ....... | D | ....... | E | ...... | F | ....... | G | ....... | A | ....... | B | ...... | C |
| minor tone | major tone | semi tone | minor tone | major tone | major tone | semi tone |
Claudius Ptolemy seventy years later altered this, transposing the minor tone to the second place,—
| C I | D I | E I | F I | G I | A I | B I | C I | |||||||
| major tone | minor tone | semi tone | major tone | minor tone | major tone | semi tone |
as he left the diatonic octave scale, so it remains, practically the same in the teachings of the theorists since: some scholiasts have thought that preferably the minor tone should be placed between A and B, transferring the major tone between G and A.
This distinguished astronomer and mathematician Ptolemy, like Pythagoras, was the child of his time, given to much fanciful speculation and mysticism, finding music analogies in the virtues, and the sciences, in the parts of the human soul, and in the zodiac. He wrote largely, and completed the foundations upon which European music had been constructed, yet he had no conception of the structure that would be raised by coming generations. The Greeks had in their scale the elements of harmony yet they fell short of the realization, and it must ever be a wonder that, intellectual as they were, they missed it. Evolution was the destined way,—but it is so slow—so slow.
Except to the chosen few these questions of the scales fail to maintain their interest, however fascinating such studies of the calculation of theoretical niceties of numbers and ratios undoubtedly are to some minds, gifted with an aptitude for figures, yet with the general body of musicians a broad survey tells that old formalisms in study are fast becoming obsolete. The advance of the System of Equal Temperament in these later years throughout the two worlds will render necessary a reconcilement between theory and practice, now widely at variance.
Historically the settlement of scale had its importance, although it came too late in time to be for the Greeks an effective force in their national music. The glory of Greece was fast departing, century after century in the course we have looked upon during our survey, empires had risen, empires had fallen, and in the disrupted state of social conditions, chaos often came, the Greek race itself was worn down and ultimately became absorbed amongst strangers, conquering races, and in the end we have to speak of her Art as Greco-Roman. Out of all these world changes we have isolated Music. To apprehend aright the slow march along the path of progress, we should now and then lift our thoughts to take account of the atmosphere and glance at the environment.
The final scale was the triumph of the mathematicians, they gained their ideal. Beyond this, however, nothing was accomplished,—nothing for actual Music. Harmony was not discovered, no great composer arose, certain lyrists and auloi-players we know of, whose deeds excited enthusiasm, but in what kind of display their art consisted no evidence exists, beyond the music to a few hymns, the melodic phrases of which do not commend themselves to us as examples of musical genius or talent. The irresistible charms exercised by the citharists upon the multitudes assembled to hear them, whether they sang by rule or improvised their melodies must be attributable in the main to the character of the singer’s voice, combined with the purport of the words sung. When with the modern knowledge of musical instruments we examine the nature of those which they had in their command, we have every reason to doubt the practical application of those fine distinctions of the pitches of the musical notes insisted upon by their learned theorists. The instruments simply could not give them, the exactness was beyond their staying and playing powers. The strings of a lyre had not the delicate permanence of pitch requisite for such claims, and certainly the flutes could not have rendered intervals so accurate. To set the intervals by bridges on the Kanon or monochords, by patient adjustment to marked divisions, was quite another matter, a mental recreation.
The trophy secured in the long march of music the thousand upon thousand years is the simple diatonic scale of five major tones and two semitones,—that is all. Up to the setting in of the Christian era that was the utmost attainment of the human race in the art of music, two formal tetrachords with a disjunct tone between; and if you will think of it this one fact has a mighty significance. What instinct of the race brought out this particular selection and arrangement, what in-dwelling demand of the ear impelled the choice, apparently from earliest impulses, we cannot tell,—there it is—the bed-rock upon which our system of harmony is founded; and the curiosity of the thing is that other races have for ages settled down upon a pentatonic system and still manifest an inborn aversion to harmony. We adjudge tones by means of calculated vibrations, ascertained by mechanism, the Greeks made their determinations by the measuring of strings, the artist is always satisfied by the verdict of the ear.
To have established a tetrachord, and after centuries of intellectual strife to have secured a double tetrachord forming merely a simple scale of one octave, and that, the scale of A minor, may seem a small matter as a record of human history and of mental achievement. There is a saying of Aristotle which will justify a more inspiriting estimate,—the philosopher wrote,—
“The true nature of a thing is whatsoever it becomes when the process of its development is complete.”
To use a familiar illustration, expressing potentiality,—As the oak lies in the acorn, so all the after developments of our European music, their beauty, grandeur, massiveness, lie in that little scale of A minor; repeat it in transpositions of pitch from each note, repeat it in duplications above and below, and we know that we have therein the whole range of tones comprehensible by the human ear. Mr. W. Chappell, it is true, shews that the Greeks had no major scale, yet all conceivable scales are there, that one being the plasmic germ of all.
The process of the development of music from the reed pipe and from the string of a bow may seem insignificant as a subject of enquiry, but the philosopher will not think so. There is an apt parallel or analogy in “wheat”—“the staff of life,” which I cannot omit reference to. Wheat was not found in the predynastic tombs of Egypt nor was it indigenous to that land, but was introduced into the Nile valley from the East. De Candole in his botanical researches, “The Origin of Cultivated Plants,” has shewn that the indigenous home of wheat was in the western slopes of the Persian mountains. Thence the cereal has spread in the course of ages over the whole earth. To this centre of human origin, to Iran and Media (now called Persia) the indications of my search all point for the source of music, here in this primal region the rude beginnings of the art of music were first heard, and the sounds thereof have gone out into all lands.
Greece, as was fitting, has occupied a large share of attention in these pages, her history seems a part of ours; her heroes are our heroes, her philosophers our philosophers, her poets our poets. The names of Homer and Pindar have come down the great highway of time, hailed and recognised as the names of chief Masters in Song, givers to whom the world is indebted; yet I think that to the man in the street who cares for music, there are two other names that would come to mind to stand first as the representatives of Greek song,—Sappho and Anacreon,—the man may not have known even the sound of the language in which they sung, yet English Song has made these names household words.
So when I see Sappho with her lyre pictured on the vases, and memory revives her story, or when, on an amphora, I see Anacreon depicted, trudging along, with his lyre slung on a stick across his shoulder, like a rustic traveller carrying his day’s provender, and with his dog following,—they appeal to me as familiar friends. Then, too, I remember how a Greek poet apostrophised Anacreon,—
O lover of the lovely lyre,
Who as thy sweet will sped,
Hast sailed through all the seas of life,
With passion and with song.
Still we linger over the land of Greece, its haunting charm persists from youth to old age. Mr. F. G. Frazer, in his Pausanias, recalls the beautiful thought of Schiller, how, like that poet, the traveller,
“Might have seen as in a vision
The bright procession of the Gods
Winding up the long slope of Olympus,
Sometimes pausing to look back sadly
At a world where they were no longer needed.”
A glance at the map of Asia will show you a long trend of mountains from the Caspian Sea to the Persian Gulf. This vast plateau lies like a great backbone across Asia; the Caucasus, the Armenian mountains, the Zagros mountains, the Iranian mountains; on the eastern slope of these the Hindoo Cush, and the great Divide.
It is a curious fact worth thinking about that the Lute crossed over the ranges of the Hindoo Cush to the Valley of the Indus and to the Ganges and became the parent of the Ravanastron, or Indian Violin, and other tribes of bowed string instruments. The Lyre and the Harp never passed, nor the double flutes (except as left by Alexander the Great after his conquest) and the same with China. The feeling of the Hindoos has settled upon instruments with many frets and moveable bridges, and unfortunately the relics of the real old days of that land have not been preserved.
On the Western side of this mountainous range I have shewn the type of stringed instruments that prevailed, from Chaldea and Babylonia to Egypt, from Assyria and Asia Minor to Greece, the chief feature of the lyre and the harp being an open frame with a body that is founded on a boat-shape. These open-frame instruments are not found on the Eastern side. Why? it remains an open question. Yet the long-necked Lute or Nefer became acclimatised there in India. Was the instrument the cause of the character developed in their music? It is easy to see how it would lend itself to minute division, originating twenty intervals within an octave. Race, climate, and geography, are the great factors in the developments of the art of music.
Here, with reluctance I bring this volume to a close, for its pages have already extended in number much beyond the limit of the original intent. During the progress of the work new materials have come to hand giving an additional interest to the subject, information and illustrations acquired too late for incorporation in their relevant places, and too important in their bearing upon the investigation to be lightly sketched in, with but scant recognition of value. There is much yet to be added to the search for the origin of the Apollo Lyre; both the three-stringed and the four-stringed I have found depicted on a vase, of a date at least 900 B.C., and Dr. A. J. Evans has favoured me with a drawing of a pictograph seal, representing an eight-stringed lyre, found in his explorations at Knossos in Crete, and he writes me that he now places the date 2,000 B.C. From Egypt there comes a picture of large cross-string harps, a construction undreamt of as an ancient idea, but veritably so, discovered by Dr. Flinders Petrie at Abydos, in the Tombs of the Kings. The illustration which he has given me is of great interest.
Then the American explorers in Babylonia have unearthed a tablet sculptured in relief showing musicians, and one sitting, playing a harp of eleven strings; Mr. St. Chad Boscawen gives the date of this slab circa B.C. 3,000, it was found at Tel-lo, the ancient Sirpurra. Another valuable find, much earlier in date, was a terra-cotta relief depicting a shepherd seated playing his lute, and his dog with a curly tail standing beside him (probably this lute-lover was an earlier Anacreon), the lute so like the Egyptian Nefer, and the attitude in holding the instrument exactly the same; for so remote a time the drawing of the figures is little less than marvellous. This relic was found in the schoolroom attached to the temple library at Nippur, it confirms the conjecture I put forth that the Nefer form was derived from Babylonia—I called it the paddle form.
Each year fresh treasures may be unearthed, so energetic are the new explorers, sons of nations, all rivals in archæological work, each emulating the other in adding new riches to the Museums to hold in trust for the world’s coming ages, adding to the known past other more distant millenniums.
With so much material accumulating throwing new light upon the subject, I contemplate a sequel to this volume, to be ready, if health aids the fulfilment of my wish, by the coming Christmas, and to be entitled “Our Musical Inheritance.”
Errata
| Page | 5 | line | 16 | for | kythara | read | lute. |
| ″ | 22 | ″ | 28 | ″ | B.C. | ″ | ago. |
| ″ | 43 | ″ | 21 | ″ | glossoocmeia | ″ | glossocomeia. |
| ″ | 52 | ″ | 15 | ″ | B 233 | ″ | B♭ 233 |
| ″ | 72 | ″ | 11 | after length, add,—out of the whole number. | |||
| ″ | 75 | ″ | 2 | ″ | indellible | read | indelible. |
| ″ | 87 | ″ | 19 | ″ | worn | ″ | warm. |
| ″ | 92 | ″ | 8 | ″ | third century | ″ | 440 B.C. |
| ″ | 219 | ″ | 17 | ″ | Cancasus | ″ | Caucasus. |
| ″ | 225 | ″ | 7 | ″ | Diosopolis | ″ | Diospolis. |
| ″ | 230 | ″ | 22 | ″ | physical | ″ | psychical. |
| ″ | 312 | ″ | 11 | ″ | poem insert,—as spoken. | ||