So also Instrumental

favorite, the nightingale, who is described as singing “ her amorous descant " in harmony with all Nature.1 the bee sings "at her flowery work.” 2 accompaniment to vocal music is poetically expressed by the phrase "the hand sung with the voice." 3 Similarly, in giving the call to arms, "the matin trumpet sung. Such metaphors as these, however, scarcely require a separate classification.

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Milton's conception of vocal music may therefore be summed up as threefold. Essentially, all poetry, every rhythmical expression of thought, is song. As such it is the highest form of art. More concretely considered, such song is represented by the chanting of words to instrumental accompaniment, which, indeed, is the actual form in which the ancient bards uttered their poetry. Lastly, song must be considered in its technical contemporary sense, as melody fitted to words, or even melody

without words, in which case the term song may be applied metaphorically to the sounds of birds and even of musical instruments.

In Milton's conception and use of the art of music, then, the most significant point is his tendency to poetize the actual, concrete elements and materials of the art. He takes the common facts of instrumental and vocal music as he finds them, and then exalts them to the level of his own poetic imagination. To him, musical instruments are not mere structures of wood, strings, and brass. They are organisms inspired with life of a universal reality, dead things "pierced" with the "inbreath'd sense of the "sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse." 5

1 P. L. 4. 603. See the discussion of descant below, Appendix I, p. 116.

2 Il P. 143. 5 S. M. 2-4.

3 P. R. 1. 172.

4 P. L. 6. 526.

They perform definite functions and possess definite characters. They are the concrete representatives of basic musical reality. Just as the laws of mathematics must be learned if one would be in touch with the absolute entities, so the technique of instrument or voice must be mastered in order that one may grasp the sublime truths of music. And there can be no doubt as to the thoroughness of Milton's technique. He knows the instruments in all their details. He knows the mechanism of the human voice as well as it could be known in his day. But he is not satisfied with the mere conception of a vibrating set of vocal chords. He demands a soul, a divine power, to set the mechanism in motion, to cause it to utter not mere unintelligible noise, but immortal verse.1 What mathematician, what physicist would stop at the mere learning of set formulas which any one can commit to memory? Of what use would his knowledge be to him, if it did not bring him closer to ultimate reality? Similarly, says Milton, why should a musician be satisfied with the technical formulas relating to instrument and voice when they stand ready to lead him on through the laws of Nature itself to some ultimate truth?

Thus interpreted, Milton's knowledge of the art of music becomes something infinitely greater and more significant than that of even the skilled composers of his day. It is a knowledge whose details fit into his whole philosophy of life, a knowledge which assures him of the bond of union between the aesthetic and the ethical, a knowledge which leads him to a conviction of reality and of the final purposes of God Himself.

1 For the Platonic origin of this conception, see Appendix V, p. 139.

IV

MILTON AND THE THEORY OF MUSIC

Milton was no mere dabbler in music-no dilettante, seeking amusement and culture with the smallest possible expenditure of effort. He took all his interests seriously, believing that what was at all worthy of attention was worthy of thorough and detailed study. His attitude towards music was primarily that of a painstaking scholar. Yet Milton's scholarship was of a kind which necessarily tends towards mysticism. Music had for him a much deeper significance than that of a mere accidental, interesting phenomenon, or even of a highly developed art. A hint as to the nature of this deeper significance has already been given in the preceding chapter. A consideration of his theory of music leads one even further in the same direction, and results in a revelation of the entire mystical philosophy of the poet. Biographers are here of little assistance, and our conclusions must be drawn mainly from his works. Judged by these Milton's theory of music may be said to consist of two kinds, which may be termed roughly the scientific and the metaphysical. By the first is meant that part of musical theory which is based upon mathematical truths, and is therefore assumed to possess objective reality. The second includes the conceptions of the origin and nature of music, and of its mystic relationship to the whole universe. Both phases of Milton's theory were derived by him from classical sources, both were developed by him in the light of contemporary scholarship, and both received the stamp of his own individuality in the final form which they took in his mind.

Strictly speaking, the Greek theories of music can scarcely be called scientific. Plato had expanded the mystical Pythagorean system of numbers, without making its mysticism more intelligible. Aristotle had criticized without illuminating. Aristoxenus, Plutarch and Claudius Ptolemaeus had made successive attempts at interpretation without carrying conviction to their readers. Finally, Boethius had collected all the material and pretended to expound it, the result being, in the main, a meaningless jumble of vague definitions. It is not necessary for us here to attempt an analysis of this complex mass of ancient theory. Our study is concerned only with its effect upon Milton, and it is sufficient for us to know that he found a definite meaning in much that to us is unintelligible, that he was able to discern unerringly which ideas had a permanent value, and that he succeeded in adapting this material to the conditions of thought in his own time.

Milton's natural love of the orderly and the mathematical inspired in him a more than usual interest in the so-called "measurable music." measurable music." The Pythagorean system of numbers, the necessary relationships of concord and discord, the mysteries of "proportions" in pitch and rhythm, exercised upon him a peculiar fascination which is reflected in numerous allusions throughout his works. He regards number and measure as essential in music, because they give it objective reality and permanence. Without this mathematical foundation, music, as a science or even as a scientific art, could not exist. And since number and measure are universal, music is therefore an essential and inherent part of the universe.1

1 Cf. Plato, Timaeus 69, When all things were in disorder, God created in each thing, both in reference to itself and other things, certain harmonies in such degree and manner as they are capable of having proportion and harmony." -Jowett's tr. 2. p. 560. For

Poetry is so closely connected with music that their fundamental laws are in large part the same. Therefore

poetry also may be said to gain universality not only through its idealistic handling of truth, but through its dependance on number and measure as well. With such a conception as this, it is only natural that the poet should emphasize the scientific or mathematical element in music. He speaks of the

secret power

Of harmony, in tones and numbers hit

By voice or hand, and various-measured verse.1

He describes the planets which

move

Their starry dance in numbers that compute
Days, months, and years.2

The heavenly music is composed of

the innumerable sound

Of hymns and sacred songs.3

An elaborate play on scientific musical terms is contained in the Lines on the University Carrier :

Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime
'Gainst old truth) motion numbered out his time.*

a detailed explanation of the Pythagorean system of numbers, see Boeckh, Kleinere Schriften 3. 169 ff. Cf. also Jowett's tr. of Plato, 2. 455; 490. Plutarch devotes four chapters to an exposition of the theories of Plato and Aristotle (Westphal's ed. De Musica 16-19, tr. pp. 49-51). See also Boethius, Paul's tr. 38-60, and Plato's Republic 7. 522-532.

1 P. R. 4. 254-256.

2 P. L. 3. 579-581.

3 P. L. 3. 147-148.

4 U. C. 2. 7-8. Cf. also P. L. 3. 37; 345; 5. 150; 8. 19; 113; 10. 888; Ad Patrem 51; 58; Ad Rousium 48; P. W. 3. 117.