grace of the Lord. From the harp issued the psalm dedicated
to the glory of God--love of art gave rise to the psalter, a song-book
for the nations, and its author David may be called the founder of the
national and Temple music of the ancient Hebrews. With his song, he
banished the evil spirit from Saul's soul; with his skill on the
psaltery, he defeated his enemies, and he led the jubilant chorus in the
Holy City singing to the honor and glory of the Most High.

Compare the Hebrew and the Hellenic music of ancient times: Orpheus with
his music charms wild beasts; David's subdues demons. By means of
Amphion's lyre, living walls raise themselves; Israel's cornets make
level the ramparts of Jericho. Arion's melodies lure dolphins from the
sea; Hebrew music infuses into the prophet's disciples the spirit of the
Lord. These are the wondrous effects of music in Israel and in Hellas,
the foremost representatives of ancient civilization. Had the one united
with the other, what celestial harmonies might have resulted! But later,
in the time of Macedonian imperialism, when Alexandria and Jerusalem
met, the one stood for enervated paganism, the other for a Judaism of
compromise, and a union of such tones produces no harmonious chords.

But little is known of the ancient Hebrew music of the Temple, of the
singers, the songs, the melodies, and the instruments. The Hebrews had
songs and instrumental music on all festive, solemn occasions,
particularly during the divine service. At their national celebrations,
in their homes, at their diversions, even on their journeys and their
pilgrimages to the sanctuary, their hymns were at once religious,
patriotic, and social.[109] They had the viol and the cithara, flutes,
cymbals, and castanets, and, if our authorities interpret correctly, an
organ (_magrepha_), whose volume of sound surpassed description. When,
on the Day of Atonement, its strains pealed through the chambers of the
Temple, they were heard in the whole of Jerusalem, and all the people
bowed in humble adoration before the Lord of hosts. The old music ceased
with the overthrow of the Jewish state. The Levites hung their harps on
the willows of Babylon's streams, and every entreaty for the "words of
song" was met by the reproachful inquiry: "How should we sing the song
of the Lord on the soil of the stranger?" Higros the Levite was the last
of Israelitish tone-artists.

Israel set out on his fateful wanderings, his unparallele