[A taste for music]

image 1image 2image 3image 4cropped image 1 What is music, then? [Merchant of Venice, Act 3d, Scene 2d

A taste for music, when widely distributed among a people, is one of the surest indications of their moral purity, amiability and refinement. It promotes sociality, represses the grosser manifestations of the passions, and substitutes in their place all that is beautiful and artistic. We find it to be so in families, in communities and in nations, and the reasons for so finding it are very plain.

We, as a people, are not musical. True, we have improved greatly of late years in this respect, but there is plenty of room for more. In New York, we are afraid to say how many managers have been ruined in the expensive attempts to establish the Italian Opera, and the nightly concerts which take place are mainly supported by foreigners. English Opera succeeded pretty well for a time, when a pretty prima donna caught the public’s fancy, or a great cantatrice like Jenny Lind¹ was announced with such a flourish of Barnumic trumpets that people crowded to see her as they would to see a wonderful performing elephant or a balloon-ascent. But these musical furores were spasmodic in their nature and possessed nothing in common with the steady and unfailing love of, and reverence for, music as an art—as a consoler—as an elevator—as a necessity of their very being, which distinguishes some of the European nationalities.

We repeat now what we have often said before, and as we remarked yesterday in noticing one of our own Harmonic organizations, that every attempt to spread a knowledge of the tuneful art among us should be hailed with joy, and should be encouraged to the utmost. Everywhere and in every shape let musical associations flourish and prosper, is our earnest wish. The more harmony we have, the better—in the concert-room, in the Church, in the Sabbath-School, and in the bosom of the family. Ah! in that last clause how much is involved. What a peace-maker and promoter of domestic comfort and happiness is music in the family circle! We never knew of an instance where the members of that family were not made happier and better by it—where it did not like mercy,

—"drop like the gentle rain from Heaven Upon the place beneath.”

And now, as we are gossiping in this cursory manner upon music and its influences, it occurs to us what a pity it is that we have as yet no American national song—nothing that is able by its grandly-swelling rhythm to arouse at once the national enthusiasm—to bring tears to the eyes and to cause the heart to swell with a noble loyalty to our country and our flag. What have we to compare with “The Marsellaise” or “God save the King?” Neither “Hail Columbia” nor the jerky, tripping, undignified “Yankee Doodle” can be named in comparison. We think our great national song is yet to be written: most probably the poet who is to pen the inspired words and the composer who is to set the thrilling theme to music, are yet unborn.

These things, however, will all come in time. Doubtless, even, (for we have large faith) the present mythical and allegorical representative embodiment of America, in the shape of a lank, whittling Yankee with a swallow-tailed coat and pantaloons too short for him, may be exchanged for a more appropriate figure head for our good Ship of State. However, that is neither here nor there. We started upon a musical talk, or rather, a talk about music, which is a very different thing, and are not to be led away any further from our text.

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