Woman's Work in Music. Arthur Elson
that when Brahma had lain in the original egg some thousand billion years, he split it by the force of his thought, and made heaven and earth from the two fragments. After this, Manu brought into being ten great forces, whence came all the gods, goddesses, good and evil spirits. Among the lesser deities were the genii of music (Gandharbas) and those of the dance (Apsarasas), who furnished entertainment for the gods before man possessed the art.
About this time the female element began to assert itself. At Brahma's command, his consort, Sarisvati, goddess of speech and oratory, brought music to man, incidentally giving the Hindoos their finest musical instrument, the vina. The demigod Nared became the protector of the art, but Maheda Chrishna performed a more material service by allowing five keys, or modes, to spring from his head, in the shape of nymphs, while his wife, Parbuti, produced one more. Then Brahma helped the cause along by adding thirty lesser keys, or modes, all of them in the form of nymphs also.
These modes varied in character, some of them being too fiery to be attempted by mortals. It is related that Akbar, the emperor, once ordered the famous singer, Naik Gobaul, to sing the Raagni, or improvisation, of the mode of fire. The poor singer entreated for a less dangerous task, but in vain. Then he plunged up to his neck in the waters of the river Jumna, and began. Before he had finished half of the song, the water around him began to boil. He paused, but, finding the emperor's curiosity relentless, continued the strain, until at the close his body burst into flames and was consumed. Another melody caused the formation of clouds and the fall of rain, and a female singer is said once to have saved Bengal from drought and famine by means of this lay. Many other refrains had a similar power over the forces of nature; one could make the sun disappear and bring on night at midday, while others could change winter to spring, or rain to sunshine.
In all Indian legends, the charm of music is described as of immense potency. All animate and inanimate nature is represented as listening with ecstasy to the singing of Chrishna and Parbuti.[2] When Chrishna was on earth, in the form of a shepherd, there were sixteen thousand pastoral nymphs, or shepherdesses, who fell in love with him. They all tried to win his heart by the power of music, and each one sang to him in a different manner. Hence arose the sixteen thousand different keys which were said to have existed at one time in India.
The Hindoo musical system of to-day is likewise ascribed largely to female sources. The scale consists of seven chief tones, which are represented by as many heavenly sisters. The names of the tones (sa, ri, ga, ma, pa, dha, ni, corresponding to our do, re, mi, etc.) are merely abbreviations of the names of the nymphs who preside over them. The tones of the scale are divided into quarters, and the number of quarters in the diatonic scale intervals is four, three, two, four, four, three, and two. Thus the number of possible modes is vastly greater than in our own scale, which has only semitones. There are six chief modes, represented by six genii, while each one is married to five of the thirty nymphs who typify the lesser modes. Each one of the genii has eight sons, and these are wedded to a nymph apiece, making forty-eight in all. Every member of this prolific musical family presides over something, if it is only one of the quarter tones that form the scale.
To illustrate the method of naming, the four quarters of the fifth scale tone (pa, or Panchama) belong to the nymphs Malina, Chapala, Lola, and Serveretna. The next full tone (dha) is owned by Santa and her sisters. If the higher tone, dha, should be flatted, giving it the same pitch as the upper quarter of the lower tone, pa, the Hindoo musician would not speak of dha as being flat, but would say instead, "Serveretna has been introduced to the family of Santa and her sisters."
The Hindoo music of to-day is not as potent as in mythical times. The people themselves acknowledge the decline of their art, and admit that even in the last century or two it has deteriorated. As for the miracle-working Ragas, or improvised songs, the people in Bengal will say that they can probably be heard in Cashmere, while the inhabitants of Cashmere will send the inquirer back to Bengal. Woman, too, has a less important position than of old. "When the ancient sages made our musical system," says an eminent Brahmin in an interview at San Francisco, "there were many women among them; but now not one can accomplish anything in the art."
In the traditions of ancient Egypt, music is entirely under the patronage of male gods. Thoth, the Egyptian Hermes, invented the lyre by striking the tendons of a dead tortoise, which had dried and stretched in the shell. Osiris, too, the chief of the Egyptian gods, protected the art, although Strabo says music was not allowed in his temple at Abydos. While travelling in Ethiopia, the story runs, Osiris met a troupe of revelling satyrs, and, being fond of singing, he admitted them to his train of musicians. In their midst were nine young maidens, skilled in music and various sciences, evidently the prototype of the Grecian Muses. Horus, the son of Osiris (equivalent to the Greek Apollo) was considered the god of Harmony.
An important mythical character was Maneros, son of the earliest Egyptian king. He seems to hold the same position as Linus, son of Apollo, among the Greeks. The first song of Egyptian music was a dirge for his untimely end, and a lament for the swift passing away of youth, spring, joy, and so on. Gradually the song itself, instead of the king's son, began to be called Maneros, and became the well-known banquet song of the social feasts, calling upon the guests to enjoy life while they might. In time the song became a symbol of gaiety and merriment instead of grief.
In most of the ancient civilizations, the songs appear to have been accompanied by clapping of hands, to mark the rhythm. There were many actual dances, also, in ancient Egypt, as is fully proven by a number of the old paintings. Some were like our jigs, break-downs, or clog-dances, while others consisted of regular figures, such as forward and back, swing, and so on, the latter kind being restricted to the lower orders. In all of these, women must have taken a large part, and doubtless they were responsible for some of the music. They were not allowed to play the flute, but could indulge in the tabor and other instruments. Some of the scenes depicted closely resemble the modern stage, and it is more than probable that, when the audiences of to-day applaud our own ballet scenes, they are enjoying themselves in the old Egyptian manner.
There can be no doubt that woman played an important part in music, possibly even in composition, in many civilizations which apparently allowed her only a restricted field of action. The Empress of Germany recently defined woman's sphere as consisting of four subjects—children, clothes, cooking, and church; yet the German women have far more influence than this official utterance would indicate. It is not surprising, then, to find in the folios of Lepsius a reproduction of something analogous to our conservatories of music. It represents a course of musical instruction in the school of singers and players of King Amenhotep IV., of the eighteenth dynasty. There are several large and small rooms, connected with each other, and containing furniture and musical instruments. In some are the musicians practising and teaching. One teacher sits listening to the singing of a young girl, while another pupil is playing the accompaniment on a harp. Still another girl stands attentively listening to the teacher's instructions, as in a modern class. In another place are two girls practising a dance with harp music. In one room is a young lady having her hair dressed, while in another a young girl has placed aside her harp and is sitting down to lunch with a companion. All this goes to show that different civilizations often resemble one another more than would appear at first sight, and very probably woman's part in ancient Egyptian music was much like that which she plays in our own to-day.
The earliest Hebrew music was undoubtedly modelled after that of Egypt. In later Biblical times, however, there were many national instruments, and the style of the music must have been characteristic. The Old Testament, even in its earlier books, contains many examples of the songs of the people. Their ancient folk-music showed three principal styles—the joyous bridal song, the cheerful harvest or vintage song, and the wailing funeral song; and there are many examples of each in the Scriptures. As there was no definite notation among the ancient Hebrews, the actual tunes that were sung with these songs will never be known. But it may be possible that the melodies have been preserved by rote, for it is certain that these three schools of singing exist to-day in Arabia and Syria. Whole villages are known to unite in a seven-day festival of rejoicing, not unlike the one at the wedding of Samson, as described in the fourteenth chapter of Judges.
The Song of Solomon presents an entire set of bridal songs in the popular vein. A good example of the mourning song is found in the opening chapter of the