The Story of Mankind [177]
phonograph has given
millions of modern people their first love of music so did the
early ``pianoforte'' carry the knowledge of music into much
wider circles. Music became part of the education of every well-
bred man and woman. Princes and rich merchants maintained
private orchestras. The musician ceased to be a wandering
``jongleur'' and became a highly valued member of the community.
Music was added to the dramatic performances of
the theatre and out of this practice, grew our modern Opera.
Originally only a few very rich princes could afford the expenses
of an ``opera troupe.'' But as the taste for this sort of
entertainment grew, many cities built their own theatres where
Italian and afterwards German operas were given to the unlimited
joy of the whole community with the exception of a few
sects of very strict Christians who still regarded music with
deep suspicion as something which was too lovely to be entirely
good for the soul.
By the middle of the eighteenth century the musical life
of Europe was in full swing. Then there came forward a
man who was greater than all others, a simple organist of the
Thomas Church of Leipzig, by the name of Johann Sebastian
Bach. In his compositions for every known instrument, from
comic songs and popular dances to the most stately of sacred
hymns and oratorios, he laid the foundation for all our modern
music. When he died in the year 1750 he was succeeded by
Mozart, who created musical fabrics of sheer loveliness which
remind us of lace that has been woven out of harmony and
rhythm. Then came Ludwig van Beethoven, the most tragic
of men, who gave us our modern orchestra, yet heard none of
his greatest compositions because he was deaf, as the result of a
cold contracted during his years of poverty.
Beethoven lived through the period of the great French
Revolution. Full of hope for a new and glorious day, he had
dedicated one of his symphonies to Napoleon. But he lived
to regret the hour. When he died in the year 1827, Napoleon
was gone and the French Revolution was gone, but the steam
engine had come and was filling the world with a sound that
had nothing in common with the dreams of the Third Symphony.
Indeed, the new order of steam and iron and coal and large
factories had little use for art, for painting and sculpture and
poetry and music. The old protectors of the arts, the Church
and the princes and the merchants of the Middle Ages and the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries no longer existed. The
leaders of the new industrial world were too busy and had too
little education to bother about etchings and sonatas and bits
of carved ivory, not to speak of the men who created those
things, and who were of no practical use to the community in
which they lived. And the workmen in the factories listened
to the drone of their engines until they too had lost all taste
for the melody of the flute or fiddle of their peasant ancestry.
The arts became the step-children of the new industrial era.
Art and Life became entirely separated. Whatever paintings
had been left, were dying a slow death in the museums. And
music became a monopoly of a few ``virtuosi'' who took the
music away from the home and carried it to the concert-hall.
But steadily, although slowly, the arts are coming back into
their own. People begin to understand that Rembrandt and
Beethoven and Rodin are the true prophets and leaders of
their race and that a world without art and happiness resembles
a nursery without laughter.
COLONIAL EXPANSION AND WAR
A CHAPTER WHICH OUGHT TO GIVE YOU A
GREAT DEAL OF POLITICAL INFORMATION
ABOUT THE LAST FIFTY YEARS, BUT
WHICH REALLY CONTAINS SEVERAL EXPLANATIONS
AND A FEW APOLOGIES
IF I had known how difficult it was to write a History of
the World, I should never have undertaken the task. Of course,
any one possessed of enough industry to lose himself
millions of modern people their first love of music so did the
early ``pianoforte'' carry the knowledge of music into much
wider circles. Music became part of the education of every well-
bred man and woman. Princes and rich merchants maintained
private orchestras. The musician ceased to be a wandering
``jongleur'' and became a highly valued member of the community.
Music was added to the dramatic performances of
the theatre and out of this practice, grew our modern Opera.
Originally only a few very rich princes could afford the expenses
of an ``opera troupe.'' But as the taste for this sort of
entertainment grew, many cities built their own theatres where
Italian and afterwards German operas were given to the unlimited
joy of the whole community with the exception of a few
sects of very strict Christians who still regarded music with
deep suspicion as something which was too lovely to be entirely
good for the soul.
By the middle of the eighteenth century the musical life
of Europe was in full swing. Then there came forward a
man who was greater than all others, a simple organist of the
Thomas Church of Leipzig, by the name of Johann Sebastian
Bach. In his compositions for every known instrument, from
comic songs and popular dances to the most stately of sacred
hymns and oratorios, he laid the foundation for all our modern
music. When he died in the year 1750 he was succeeded by
Mozart, who created musical fabrics of sheer loveliness which
remind us of lace that has been woven out of harmony and
rhythm. Then came Ludwig van Beethoven, the most tragic
of men, who gave us our modern orchestra, yet heard none of
his greatest compositions because he was deaf, as the result of a
cold contracted during his years of poverty.
Beethoven lived through the period of the great French
Revolution. Full of hope for a new and glorious day, he had
dedicated one of his symphonies to Napoleon. But he lived
to regret the hour. When he died in the year 1827, Napoleon
was gone and the French Revolution was gone, but the steam
engine had come and was filling the world with a sound that
had nothing in common with the dreams of the Third Symphony.
Indeed, the new order of steam and iron and coal and large
factories had little use for art, for painting and sculpture and
poetry and music. The old protectors of the arts, the Church
and the princes and the merchants of the Middle Ages and the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries no longer existed. The
leaders of the new industrial world were too busy and had too
little education to bother about etchings and sonatas and bits
of carved ivory, not to speak of the men who created those
things, and who were of no practical use to the community in
which they lived. And the workmen in the factories listened
to the drone of their engines until they too had lost all taste
for the melody of the flute or fiddle of their peasant ancestry.
The arts became the step-children of the new industrial era.
Art and Life became entirely separated. Whatever paintings
had been left, were dying a slow death in the museums. And
music became a monopoly of a few ``virtuosi'' who took the
music away from the home and carried it to the concert-hall.
But steadily, although slowly, the arts are coming back into
their own. People begin to understand that Rembrandt and
Beethoven and Rodin are the true prophets and leaders of
their race and that a world without art and happiness resembles
a nursery without laughter.
COLONIAL EXPANSION AND WAR
A CHAPTER WHICH OUGHT TO GIVE YOU A
GREAT DEAL OF POLITICAL INFORMATION
ABOUT THE LAST FIFTY YEARS, BUT
WHICH REALLY CONTAINS SEVERAL EXPLANATIONS
AND A FEW APOLOGIES
IF I had known how difficult it was to write a History of
the World, I should never have undertaken the task. Of course,
any one possessed of enough industry to lose himself