Music
How closely music is connected with poetry in the Bible is proved by the fact that a great many pieces of its poetry have come down to us with musical marks still attached to them. The words, for example, at the beginning or the end of a poem, “To the chief musician,” are, if the translation can be depended on, indubitable evidence that it was written to be sung. Every reader has observed the frequency with which the word “Selah” occurs. It sometimes appears more than once in the same piece. It obviously denotes a pause of some kind, and in not a few of the places where it occurs there is an obvious pause in the sense, so that it may indicate the commencement of a new paragraph or strophe, as it is called. But it is more likely that it is a musical direction of some kind. The most probable derivation would give the meaning of “Up!”; but whether this means that the singers are to sing more loudly or that they are to hold up their voices, to allow the music of instruments to come in, can only be a matter of conjecture. Like most of the marks in the superscriptions, this had so early become unintelligible that even the Seventy, who translated the Old Testament into Greek, could only guess at it. It is known that in all times of religious and musical revival sacred pieces have been adapted to pre-existing secular airs; and some of the headings suggest such an origin. Such are Psalm xxii. “Hind of the Dawn,” Pspalms lvii., lviii., lix., lxxv. “Destroy not,” Psalm lvi. “The Silent Dove of them that are afar off.” “Song of Loves,” in Psalm xlv., is appropriate enough as the heading of a bridal song. Other headings seem to refer to the particular instruments with which the music was to be executed. “Neginoth,” occurring in six Psalms, seems to mean that the tune was to be played on stringed instruments, whereas “Nehiloth,” in Psalm v., may mean “To the accompaniment of flutes.” Certain it is that all the three kinds of musical instrument — string, wind and percussion — had their part to play in the worship of the sanctuary; though it is doubted whether they were employed together, as they would be in a modern orchestra. There are four different names for Psalms, one of which is generally supposed from its derivation to signify a didactic poem, while another for the same reason is understood to be a dithyramb; but Ewald is of opinion that the four names stand for different measures, similar to the Phrygian, Lydian and other measures in Greek music. To the same quarter he would refer the word “Gittith,” supposing it to be a measure brought from the Philistine town of Gath, as well as “Sheminith.” About all these — or nearly all — scholarship is in a humiliating state of uncertainty. Yet one thing is clear, that together they yield abundant evidence of how closely music and poetry were connected together.
This connection is natural. The praise of God is originally a thought or a sentiment of the mind within. It may be the thought of how wonderful and good God is, or it may be the sentiment that we love Him because He has first loved us. If such a thought or sentiment be really in the mind, warming and inspiring it, this is real praise, which ascends to God and is pleasing to Him, even if no single sound is uttered. But, when such thoughts and sentiments fill the mind, they naturally crave for utterance, and they lay hold of the choicest means of expression.
One of these is poetry. It might be thought that, if only the mind be full of sentiments of reverence and adoration, it does not matter how common or ill-arranged be the words in which it expresses itself. But this is not so. The intenser the inward feeling, the stronger is the longing for the choicest expression. For example, when the mind is contemplating the glory of God in the heavens, it is with the deepest satisfaction that it obtains words like these in which to express itself:
The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
The unwearied sun from day to day
Does his Creator’s power display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an almighty hand.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth.
And all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn
Confirm the tidings, as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
In reason’s ear they all rejoice
And utter forth a glorious voice,
Forever singing, as they shine,
The hand that made us is divine.*
We can hardly perhaps tell why we like to hear words rolling and rhyming in this way, any more than we can explain why, on any festive or ceremonial occasion, we instinctively dress not in common but in better clothing. All we can say is, that it is a satisfaction to our feeling, when it is intense and exalted, to make use of such unusual modes of expression.
This is one of the five hymns appended to the Scots Paraphrases, and its author was Addison.
Another means of expression which praise also lays hold and makes use of is music. Poetry, even when it is only read, forms a gay and gorgeous clothing for thought; but it can be made much more gorgeous by being sung; and, when thought is exalted and feeling intense, this mode of manifestation, also, is desired. If we cannot tell why words rolling and ringing in the shape of rhythm and rhyme move us, it is equally mysterious why the rising and falling notes of music affect us; but undoubtedly they do affect us profoundly. Even without words at all they can do so. When a band of music starts in the street, it instantly brings spectators to the windows; and the strains of military music not only draw a crowd, wherever they turn, but raise martial sentiment in the mind and keep off the sensation of fatigue, even though associated with no words ;* although of course, when the musical sounds are associated with words
* Even the lower animals are sensitive to this spell, as has been noted by Shakspeare in the well-known lines of The Merchant of Venice (v. i):
For do but note a wild and wanton herd,
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood;
If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,
Or any air of music touch their ears,
You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
Their savage eyes turned to a modest gaze
By the sweet power of music.
well known, the effect is still more certain. The music seems to have the power of heightening the sentiment and enabling the mind to discharge the full force of its thought. While undoubtedly the fundamental element in praise is the feeling towards God with which the soul is filled, poetry and music may be called the two pinions — pinions covered with silver and their feathers with yellow gold — on which it is borne aloft to the quarter to which it is directed.
II
In the Bible the origin of music is ascribed to Jubal, a descendant of Cain; and, as it was not in the Cainite, but in the Sethite branch of the human race that religion was cultivated in the days before the Flood, this may be an indication that the earliest pieces of music were secular. Its employment in secular scenes, as in domestic merry-making and in war, is mentioned in all stages of the Old Testament history. We even hear not infrequently of the profane use of music when it was made an adjunct of luxury and debauchery. “Woe,” exclaims Isaiah, “unto them that rise up early in the morning, that they may follow strong drink; that tarry late into the night, till wine inflame them! And the harp and the lute, the tabret and the pipe, and wine, are in their feasts: but they regard not the work of the Lord, neither have they considered the operation of His hands.”*
It is not unusual to hear music spoken of as if it were all, in its own nature, sacred. This, however, is absurd. There is a music which can minister to the worst which is in man and help to let loose the wildest elements of human nature, just as there is a music which can still the tempest of contending passions and give to the best feelings the opportunity of asserting themselves. But it is true that music, at its best, has a sacred character, and that its highest effects can only be evoked in the service of goodness. This was a sentiment which ruled the whole of antiquity. Plutarch, for example, the Greek historian and moralist, says that music was held so sacred by the fathers of the Greek race that its use was permitted only for two purposes — the worship of God and the education of the young; even the laws of the State watched over its dignity and simplicity; and Timothy of Miletus was sharply reproved by the magistrates of Sparta for attempting to introduce a lyre with eleven, instead of the customary seven, strings. In Israel, it need hardly be said, this sentiment guided the development of music, which was intimately associated with the worship of God.
In an earlier chapter the poem composed by Moses to celebrate the Passage of the Red Sea has * Isa. v. II, 12.
been mentioned; but it has now to be added that it was executed in a style implying previous acquaintance with the musical art, as well as the possession of musical instruments: “And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances.”* The excited yet measured movements of the body, characterized as dancing, formed an element in primitive worship ;f
* Exod. XV. 20.
t “In post-exilic as in pre-exilic times, delight in nature, as well as delight in history, appears inseparably united with the joy of dancing “— Delitzsch, Iris. The ingenious author gives, from both biblical and extra-biblical sources, many examples, of which the following is perhaps the most extraordinary:” When the high day at the beginning of the Feast of Tabernacles was at an end, priests and Levites set to work in the Women’s Court of the Temple and erected a double gallery for the spectators, the upper for the women and the lower for the men. Enormous candelabra were set up, each with four gilded bowls. Mounted on ladders, four young priests supplied these with oil, and wicks without number were laid in the bowls. When the lamps of these candelabra began to sparkle and the light on the numerous torches was added, not only was the temple converted, as it were, into a sea of fire, but the whole of Jerusalem to its remotest courts was illuminated. It was not women, but men, the foremost and most honoured of the city, who performed the play of the torch-dance. They danced with torches, throwing them into the air and catching them again, often performing prodigies with the dexterity acquired by long practice. Music and singing sounded forth without ceasing, for, on the fifteen steps which led down from the court of the men to that of the women stood the Levites with citherns, harps, cymbals, and many other instruments, and struck up song after song. At the top of the fifteen steps at the Nicanor Gate, two priests waited for the first crowing of the cock, to announce with three blasts of the trumpet the breaking of the day, the signal on and it is found mentioned as late as the last of the Psalms:
Praise Mini with the sound of the trumpet:
Praise Him with the psaltery and harp.
Praise Him with the timbrel and dance:
Praise Him with stringed instruments and the pipe.
Praise Him upon the loud cymbals:
Praise Him upon the high sounding cymbals.*
As the Egyptians were a musical people, it has been supposed that it was from them the Israelites acquired the musical art; and experts are wont to say that it is from the representations of musical instruments on the Egyptian monuments that the best notion can be obtained of the instruments mentioned in Scripture. But the tradition of musical proficiency among the ancestry of the Israelites goes back to a higher date; for Laban, when reproaching Jacob for taking flight from his home, said: “Wherefore didst thou flee secretly, and steal away from me; and didst not tell me, that I might have sent thee away with mirth and with song, with tabret and with harp?” Yet in the directions for the worship of God proceeding from Moses music has little or no place, the blowing
which this nightly carnival was followed with the pouring out of the water of Siloam. Simultaneously with the wine libation of the morning sacrifice, water fetched from Siloam was poured upon the altar, as sensible symbol of the promise: ‘With joy shall ye draw water from the wells of salvation.’ One of the discourses of Jesus on the seventh day of this feast (John vii. 37-39) relates to the pouring out of Siloa’s water.” * Cf. also Psalm cxlix. 3.
of the silver trumpets, as signals for the arrival of sacred times or the commencement of certain acts of worship, being the only performances of this kind enjoined.
It was in the prophetic schools, founded by Samuel, that music was first seriously cultivated; and, as these were both a sign and a cause of the uprising of a loftier spirit in the nation, music may be said to have been from the first associated with religious revival, as it has been in innumerable instances since. In his youth, David was a sharer in this influence, the effect being seen in the service he was able to render by his music to the sick soul of King Saul. When he came himself to the throne, he made use of music as a means of education, and he appears to have invented new instruments of music himself. Reference has been made in a previous chapter to his causing the Song of the Bow to be taught to the children of his people; and towards the end of his life his arrangements about the Levites are mentioned in detail, including the notice that “four thousand praised the Lord with the instruments which I made, said David, to praise therewith.“* As might have been expected, this development continued under King Solomon; and at the dedication of the temple there was an unexampled display of the musical resources of the nation —” the Levites which were the singers, all of
I Chron. xxiii. 5.
thorn, even Asaph, Heman, Jcduthun, and their sons and their brethen, arrayed in fine linen, with cymbals and psalteries and harps, and with them an hundred and twenty priests sounding with trumpets, when they lifted up their voice with the trumpets and cymbals and instruments of music, and praised the Lord, saying,
For He is good;
For His mercy endureth forever.”*
In subsequent reigns, like those of Hezekiah and Josiah, whenever religion was revived, it was one of the first cares of the reforming kings to restore the body of sacred performers to a state of efficiency. When the Israelites were carried captive to Babylon, a reputation for music seems to have preceded them; for their captors called for mirth, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion.” But their hearts were too sick and sore; and they hung their harps upon the willows. t As, however, the Babylonians were a musical people, it is a possible thing that the knowledge and skill of the captives were enriched by their sojourn by the rivers of Babylon. The clash and clang of this Babylonian music enter with a peculiar threefold repetition — as if to suggest its barbarous insistence — into at least one narrative of the captivity, where there is mention of “the sound of the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer and all kinds of music.” J At all events,
* 2 Chron. v. 12, 13. t Psalm exxxvii. X Dan. iii. 5, 10, 15.
209 O when the exiles returned to their own native land, they carried back with them the instruments and the skill of their fathers; and, when they had rebuilt their temple, there was a great gathering of all the Levites that could be found capable of leading the devotions of the people “with the musical instruments of David the man of God.”*
Down to this point the sacred music appears to have been performed only by choirs set apart and trained for the purpose.1’ It was, it would appear, in the synagogues, which arose everywhere after the return from the Exile, that the next great step was taken — that of allowing the whole body of worshippers to take part in the singing. This was an immense advance; because the result was the training of the whole population to bear a part in both the words and the music of sacred song. This practice passed over from the synagogue to the Christian Church; and in the New Testament not only do we find song in the public worship, but Christ and His disciples sing a hymn together in the upper room, before He goes forth to Gethsemane ;J and in the dungeon of Philippi, at midnight, Paul
* Xeh. xii. 27-42.
t In Psalms exxxvi. and cxviii. 1-4, however, some have seen indications of portions intended to be supplied by the people as a whole, and, if the Psalms of Degrees, mentioned in an earlier chapter, were so called for the reason now generally supposed, a wide participation of the whole body of the pilgrims must be assumed.
I Matt. xxvi. 30.
and Silas sing praises to God and the prisoners listen to them.* In St. Paul’s own most extended reference to sacred song,f it is perhaps characteristic that he lays emphasis on the educational value of united praise, the practice of learning and singing “psalms and hymns and spiritual songs” leaving in the mind such a deposit of instruction that almost’ unawares the word of Christ dwells richly in those accustomed to sing with grace in their hearts unto God.
What the character of the music practised by the Hebrews was it is now impossible to tell with much certainty. The opinions of experts have varied exceedingly, some ascribing to it the highest perfection, while by others it has been held to have been extremely rude and undeveloped; and a decision is much hampered by the extent to which the references to it in their literature are now unintelligible. There does not appear to have been any system of notation; so that none of their music has come down to us in a written form. No doubt they had definite tunes, but these were learned by ear and transmitted from singer to singer. It is not believed by experts that the music of the modern synagogue is a safe guide to that of biblical times.
* Acts xvi. 24. t Col. iii. 16.
Neither is it supposed that the singers were acquainted with what we call harmony — that is, the combination of the different parts — the air, the tenor, the alto and the bass. But they seem to have been fond of what may be called a consecutive harmony: that is, the choir was divided into different parts,. which answered one another, either singing the same words over and over or dividing the piece, so that the one would appear to be asking a question and the other replying to it. Some Psalms, such as the twenty-fourth, would appear to have been composed with a view to this effect.
Instrumental was combined with vocal music. For this they had the great example of David, though the practice was older than his day. Yet the instrumental was always kept in subordination to the vocal, being considered a mere accompaniment to the words. Sometimes the use of instruments in the praise of God is spoken of as if it had been a portion of the Mosaic economy; but, as has been shown above, it was not by Moses, but by Samuel, David and Solomon that it was introduced and developed. It would be truer to say that it is a part of nature. In the same way as the sentiment of praise, when urgent in the mind, naturally lays hold of poetry and vocal music as means of expression, so it is its nature to lay hold of this third means, when it is available. When, under the canopy of the midnight sky, David’s heart was swelling with the adoration which he poured forth in the words of the eighth Psalm, it was not a whit less natural for him to lav his fingers on the harpstrings than it was to choose for his thoughts the poetic form or to lift up his voice in melodious sound; and it served the very same purpose — that of giving to thought perfect and beautiful expression. This is the test of this final element in praise — whether it is capable of uniting with the earlier ones in giving to the sentiment form and expansiveness and carrying it upwards to its object.
Music belongs, by its very nature, to what may be called the excess and overflow of life. It is what colour is to nature. Grass could grow, there is little doubt, without its lovely green colour; the apple and peach trees could produce their fruit without the antecedent glory of their blossom; the clouds could water the earth without ever being massed in the splendour of the sunset, and the sun could rise without the rosy glow in which he bathes the world. But nature is prodigal of her benefits. The world has not been made for mere utility. Life has its flush and superfluity; and so, while praise might be genuine though it were only in the secret heart, it is its nature to array itself in the gorgeous robes of poetry and to use, for expansion and enrichment, not only the varying tones of the human voice but also instrumental accompaniment.
APPENDICES