ent each other, when one completes the thought of the
other, then, provided the thought be a noble one, the effect
will be overwhelmingly convincing, and we have great music. The
contrary results when one contradicts the other, and that
is only too often the case; for we hear the mildest waltzes
dressed up in tragic and dramatic chords, which, like Bottom,
"roar as gently as any sucking dove."
In discussing the origin of speech, mention was made of those
shadow languages which accompany all our spoken words, namely,
the languages of expression and gesture. These were surely
the very first auxiliaries of uttered speech, and in the same
way we find that they constitute the first sign of advance
in primitive melody. Savages utter the same thought over and
over again, evidently groping after that semblance of Nirvana
(or perhaps it may be better described as "hypnotic exaltation")
which the incessant repetition of that one thought, accompanied
by its vibrating shadow, sound, would naturally occasion.
It was also stated that the relative antiquity or primitivity
of a melody is invariably to be discovered by its degree
of relationship to the original type, one note, one rhythm,
the emotional, the savage howl, or, in other words, the high
note followed by a gradual descent. To confirm this theory of
the origin of folk song, we need only look at the aboriginal
chants of widely separated peoples to find that the oldest
songs all resemble one another, despite the fact that they
originated in widely separated localities.
Now the difference between this primitive music and that
which we call folk song is that the latter is characterized
by a feeling for design, in the broadest sense of the word,
entirely lacking in the former. For we find that although
folk song is composed of the same material as savage music,
the material is arranged coherently into sentences instead of
remaining the mere exclamation of passion or a nerve exciting
reiteration of unchanging rhythms and vibrations, as is the
case in the music of the savage.
Before proceeding further, I wish to draw the line which
separates savage from folk music very plainly.
We know that the first stage in savage music is that of one
note. Gradually a tone above the original is added on account
of the savage being unable to intone correctly; through
stress of emotion the fifth and octave come into the chant;
the sixth, being the note above the fifth, is added later,
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