es to mirror as many
moods and tenses. It may have the misty filminess of steam, the limpid
deeps of water, or the cold weight and icy dullness of pompous
ignorance.

See how Nature harmoniously groups her colour scheme, with a master hand
ensuring that nothing shall clash or be inappropriate. Into this scheme
she introduces the song of birds and the sighing of the breeze, with
perhaps in the dull distance the roar of the sea growling away and
refusing to be driven from its obstinate pedal bass. Into our life she
brings affection rose-colour, and for openness and truth the blue of the
sky. She paints hatred dark, and passion fiery. Energy she portrays as
red, and purity white. Could we but see ourselves in this colour-scheme
we should realise that, like God's fresh air, all should be clear and
bright, but we ourselves pollute the design with the smoke of our own
desires.

So the musician to-day takes the theme that has been given to him by the
high gods, for "the idea in embryo comes from a Higher Power"[1] and
paints in and accompanies it with such harmonies as his soul may sound
and his technique record. He has Nature for pattern, and he may do what
he will so long as, Nature-like, there is life expressing itself.
Everything in the world stands for something, as even the hills stand
for pulsing life. As within, so without: the outer semblance is never
the real thing, but ever stands as a mirror to the inner. The bird
sings, but he is ever expressing his soul in song: it is only the human
singer who can utter sounds without significance. Music is never mere
notes, never sound alone, but always the outer form as the expression
and unfoldment of something deeper. Rhythm, melody, and harmony are
simply the three-fold means of expression, both of the musician and of
Mother Nature. Of the two, Nature makes the better Music, being closer
to the heart of God.

[Note 1: Macpherson. "Music and its Appreciation."]

CHAPTER II

THE PLACE OF MUSIC IN LIFE

"Music is not merely a matter for the cultured: it is inextricably
bound up in the bundle of common life"

_Scholes_

Music, as we have seen, is implanted in the very nature of things, and
it is as deeply embedded in our lives. Was there ever a time when no man
sang? As a matter of evolutionary accuracy, yes, there probably was such
a time. But, looking at it in a commonsense way the answer is No. To-day
we find that savages and aborigines, who are still in th