In his early writings, Milton sometimes makes music the servant of poetry. Herein, were his attitude not conventional, he might seem to deny the existence of music as an independent art. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, however, it was a commonplace with writers of verse, when recalling their distant forefathers, Orpheus, Linus, and the rest, to share this ancestry with the writers of music; they discounted, for the time being, all music not purely vocal, or intended to accompany the voice. The historical bond between the two arts was so close, and the traditions of Orpheus and his brethren so zealously appropriated by each as its mythical heirloom, that, but for the poet's manifest advantage in claiming superiority, the two might have been completely identified. Even from Spenser we do not infer that music is a distinct art, but Elizabethan England knew it as such, and by Milton's day to put music altogether in the service of poetry was a mere conceit-obviously for the poet a charming one. In the spirit of this tradition the youthful Milton begs Euphrosyne for Soft Lydian airs Married to immortal verse,1 or, implying a no less vital bond between music and poetry, addresses them as, Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heaven's joy, Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse." But he best exemplified the convention in the half-impetuous, half-wistful, challenge to his music-loving father: L'All. 136-137. 'Solemn Music 1-2. And what avails, at last, tune without voice, He moved; these praises to his verse he owes.1 Milton's tendency to speak of poetry as 'song'1 is explicable in many instances on grounds of rhythm or euphony, but, over and above that, is less in the vein of conceit than of tradition. It is fostered by a kind of filial reminiscence of the days when all poetry came into actual expression through the mouth of bard and minstrel-when, in fact, not only poet and singer, but poet, singer, and annalist were one. The modern reader nevertheless, though mindful of the historical color of the term 'song', may take it as a pure synonym for poetry or verse. In finding our way to more sober expressions of Milton's conception of the art of music we return, however, for a moment to the vein of conceit. His early verse possibly is more extravagant in ascribing supernatural powers to the musician than that of any other great modern poet. When the Lady in Comus sings, 'the attendant spirit' takes in Strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of Death." And the enchanter himself, who has often known the songs 1 Ad Patrem 59–66, trans. by Cowper, p. 606. See Spaeth, pp. 51 ff. Cf. Hist. Brit. (Bk. 1), Works 5.26; 'Blegabredus next succeeding, is recorded to have excelled all before him in the art of music; opportunely had he but left us one song of his 20 predecessors' doings.' Comus 561-562. of his mother Circe and the Sirens to quiet the waves of Scylla and win soft applause from Charybdis, in his transport over the Lady's voice sees the very darkness of night break into a smile. Yet the Lady's power is equaled or surpassed by the shepherd's; for with his 'soft pipe and smooth-dittied song' Thyrsis not only stills the winds, and hushes the waving woods, but delays the running streams, and sweetens the flowers of most pervasive fragrance. In the more earnest tribute to the sublime power of music, spoken by the genius of the wood in Arcades,1 Milton revives philosophical and allegorical rather than mythological lore, and takes us to the threshold of his half-mystical, half-ethical conception of that heavenly music, which, inaudible to men, holds the universe in harmony. But this threshold, since it leads beyond aesthetics to philosophy, we shall not cross. We now may look, however, for something less ethereal and fantastic. In the tractate Of Education, Milton, coupling the words 'profit' and 'delight,' which play a rôle in aesthetic criticism since Horace, makes the only direct statement of his concept of music. Its office in his ideal school for an English youth he thus describes: The interim of unsweating themselves regularly, and convenient rest before meat, may both with profit and delight be taken up in recreating and composing their travailed spirits with the solemn and divine harmonies of music heard or learnt; either while the skilful organist plies his grave and fancied descant in lofty fugues, or the whole symphony with artful and unimaginable touches adorn and grace the well-studied chords of some choice composer; sometimes the lute or soft organ-stop waiting on elegant voices, either to religious, martial, or civil ditties; which, if wise men and prophets be not extremely out, have 1 Arcades 68-73. a great power over dispositions and manners, to smooth and make them gentle from rustic harshness and distempered passions. The like also would not be unexpedient after meat, to assist and cherish nature in her first concoction, and send their minds back to study in good tune and satisfaction.1 For us the interest of this passage lies in its ascription to the musical art of both a practical and an aesthetic value. Harmony is characterized as divine, but to beautiful music in its service to humanity (as is suggested in Milton's concluding sentence) are assigned some prosaic tasks. Yet the tractate may give a misleading prominence to the homely and less dramatic use of music in human culture. If so, the emphasis must be corrected, and the suggestions of the tractate supplemented by those made in other places; for, while demanding that music should both profit and delight, Milton, even when writing without hyperboles, recognized a rich diversity in its effects, and admitted among them many so transporting that he might have cried with Dryden: What passion cannot music raise and quell?' Thus, when 'the Powers militant that stood for Heaven' are ordered to move forward against the enemy angels, they go. in silent legions, their ears attentive to the sound Of instrumental harmony that breathed Heroic ardor to adventurous deeds." Or when Satan has first gently raised the fainted courage of his hosts by high (and hollow) words, and then incited them Education, Works 4.391. And see John Aubrey, Collections for the Life of Milton, in Of Education [etc.], ed. by Lockwood, p. xli: 'He made his nephews songsters and sing from the time they were with him.' 2 Song for St. Cecilia's Day 24. 'P. L. 6. 64-66. to frenzy through the martial sounds of clarion and trumpet, he steadies, orders, and inspires them with music of another sort: Anon they move In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood1 Moved on in silence to soft pipes that charmed Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil.❜ 'Dr. Spaeth, in dealing with the Hellenic elements in Milton's theory of music, comments on his interest in 'the ancient "modes" or keys of the diatonic scale,' of which the most important were the Dorian, the Phrygian, and the Lydian. To each of these Plato ascribes an ethos or particular emotional value. It is this ethos of the Greek modes, 'their effect upon man, their power to induce joy or sadness, heroic valor or effeminate languor,' which appeared particularly to interest Milton. See Spaeth, pp. 67-68. Earlier in his book Dr. Spaeth points out how finely and consistently Milton discriminates between the effects of various instruments as dependent upon the quality of their sound. Every tone 'has for him [Milton] a fixed and definite function.... Certain instruments fit certain situations, produce certain effects. They cannot be indiscriminately changed about. . . . To him no variation in function was possible without an accompanying variation of quality. an instrument can produce different qualities of tone, as is the case with the pipe family, then it can likewise exercise different functions. If its quality and effect are constant then its function must also be constant.' See Spaeth, pp. 38-39. And, for a similar point of view in regard to the effects of various types of music and of various kinds of instruments, compare Dryden, Alexander's Feast, or the Power of Music, and A Song for St. Cecilia's Day, especially stanzas 4-8. 'P. L. 1.549-562. If |