no such name. It is unfortunate, also, that the earliest
writer mentioning her, Fortunatus, Bishop of Poitiers, speaks of her as
having died in Sicily between the years 176 and 180. It is doubtful
whether she would have been known at all, in connection with the art,
but for a passing phrase in her story, which relates that she often
united instrumental music to that of her voice in sounding the praises
of the Lord. Because of these few words, she is famed throughout musical
Christendom, half the musical societies in Europe are named after her,
and Raphael's picture, Dryden's ode, Stefano Maderno's statue, and a
hundred other great art works have come into existence.

The earliest inferences of woman's influence in music are to be drawn
from the Hindoo mythology.[1] According to the tabular schedule of all
knowledge, found in the ancient Brahmin records, music as an art belongs
in the second chief division of lesser sciences, but on its mathematical
and philosophical side it is accorded a much higher position, and is
treated of in the oldest and most sacred Hindoo work, the Veda. This
authority tells us that when Brahma had lain in the original egg some
thousand billion years, he split it by the force of his thought, and
made heaven and earth from the two fragments. After this, Manu brought
into being ten great forces, whence came all the gods, goddesses, good
and evil spirits. Among the lesser deities were the genii of music
(Gandharbas) and those of the dance (Apsarasas), who furnished
entertainment for the gods before man possessed the art.

About this time the female element began to assert itself. At Brahma's
command, his consort, Sarisvati, goddess of speech and oratory, brought
music to man, incidentally giving the Hindoos their finest musical
instrument, the vina. The demigod Nared became the protector of the art,
but Maheda Chrishna performed a more material service by allowing five
keys, or modes, to spring from his head, in the shape of nymphs, while
his wife, Parbuti, produced one more. Then Brahma helped the cause along
by adding thirty lesser keys, or modes, all of them in the form of
nymphs also.

These modes varied in character, some of them being too fiery to be
attempted by mortals. It is related that Akbar, the emperor, once
ordered the famous singer, Naik Gobaul, to sing the Raagni, or
improvisation, of the mode of fire. The poor singer entreated for a less
dangerous task, but in vain. Then he plun