(Greek passage)           Anacreon.
 
          I love not him, who o'er the wine-cup's flow
          Talks but of war, and strife², and scenes of woe³:
          But him who can the Muses⁴' gifts employ,
          To mingle⁵ love and song with festal joy.
The dinner and dessert passed away. The ladies retired⁶ to the drawing-room: the gentlemen discoursed⁷ over their wine. Mr. MacBorrowdale pronounced a eulogium on the port, which was cordially echoed by the divine in regard to the claret.
 
Mr. Falconer. Doctor, your tastes and sympathies are very much with the Greeks; but I doubt if you would have liked their wine. Condiments⁸ of sea-water and turpentine must have given it an odd flavour; and mixing water with it, in the proportion of three to one, must have reduced the strength of merely fermented¹⁰ liquor to something like the smallest ale of Christophero Sly.
 
The Rev¹¹. Dr. Opimian. I must say I should not like to put either salt water or turpentine into this claret: they would not improve its bouquet¹²; nor to dilute¹³ it with any portion of water: it has to my mind, as it is, just the strength it ought to have, and no more. But the Greek taste was so exquisite¹⁴ in all matters in which we can bring it to the test, as to justify¹⁵ a strong presumption¹⁶ that in matters in which we cannot test it, it was equally correct. Salt water and turpentine do not suit our wine: it does not follow that theirs had not in it some basis of contrast, which may have made them pleasant in combination. And it was only a few of their wines that were so treated.
 
Lord Curryfin. Then it could not have been much like their drink of the present day. 'My master cannot be right in his mind,' said Lord Byron's man Fletcher, 'or he would not have left Italy, where we had everything, to go to a country of savages¹⁷; there is nothing to eat in Greece but tough billy-goats, or to drink but spirits of turpentine.'{1}
 
The Rev. Dr. Opimian. There is an ambiguous present, which somewhat perplexes me, in an epigram of Rhianus, 'Here is a vessel¹⁸ of half-wine, half-turpentine, and a singularly lean specimen¹⁹ of kid: the sender, Hippocrates, is worthy²⁰ of all praise.'{2} Perhaps this was a doctor's present to a patient. Alcaeus, Anacreon, and Nonnus could not have sung as they did under the inspiration of spirit of turpentine. We learn from Athenseus, and Pliny, and the old comedians²¹, that the Greeks had a vast variety of wine, enough to suit every variety of taste. I infer the unknown from the known. We know little of their music. I have no doubt it was as excellent in its kind as their sculpture.
 
     1 Trelawny's Recollections.
 
     2 (Greek passage)
     Anthologia Palatina: Appendix: 72.
Mr. Minim. I can scarcely think that, sir. They seem to have had only the minor²² key, and to have known no more of counterpoint than they did of perspective.
 
The Rev. Dr. Opimian. Their system of painting did not require perspective. Their main subject was on one foreground. Buildings, rocks, trees, served simply to indicate, not to delineate, the scene.
 
Mr. Falconer. I must demur²³ to their having only the minor key. The natural ascent²⁴ of the voice is in the major key, and with their exquisite sensibility to sound they could not have missed the obvious expression of cheerfulness. With their three scales, diatonic, chromatic²⁵, and enharmonic, they must have exhausted²⁶ every possible expression of feeling. Their scales were in true intervals²⁷; they had really major and minor tones; we have neither, but a confusion of both. They had both sharps and flats: we have neither, but a mere⁹ set of semitones, which serve for both. In their enharmonic scale the fineness of their ear perceived distinctions which are lost on the coarseness of ours.
 
Mr. Minim. With all that they never got beyond melody. They had no harmony, in our sense. They sang only in unisons and octaves.
 
Mr. Falconer. It is not clear that they did not sing in fifths. As to harmony in one sense, I will not go so far as to say with Ritson that the only use of the harmony is to spoil the melody; but I will say, that to my taste a simple accompaniment, in strict subordination to the melody, is far more agreeable than that Niagara of sound under which it is now the fashion to bury it.
 
Mr. Minim. In that case, you would prefer a song with a simple pianoforte accompaniment to the same song on the Italian stage.
 
Mr. Falconer. A song sung with feeling and expression is good, however accompanied. Otherwise, the pianoforte is not much to my mind. All its intervals are false, and temperament²⁸ is a poor substitute for natural intonation²⁹. Then its incapability³⁰ of sustaining a note has led, as the only means of producing effect, to those infinitesimal subdivisions of sound, in which all sentiment and expression are twittered and frittered into nothingness.
 
The Rev. Dr. Opimian. I quite agree with you. The other day a band passed my gate playing 'The Campbells are coming'; but instead of the fine old Scotch³¹ lilt, and the emphasis on 'Oho! oho!' what they actually played was, 'The Ca-a-a-a-ampbells are co-o-o-o-ming, Oh-o-ho-o-o! Oh-o-ho-o-o'; I thought to myself, There is the essence and quintessence of modern music. I like the old organ-music such as it was, when there were no keys but C and F, and every note responded to a syllable³². The effect of the prolonged and sustained sound must have been truly magnificent:
 
          'Where, through the long-drawn³³ aisle³⁴ and fretted³⁵ vault³⁶,
          The pealing³⁷ anthem³⁸ swelled³⁹ the note of praise.'
Who cares to hear sacred music on a piano?
 
Mr. Minim. Yet I must say that there is a great charm in that brilliancy of execution which is an exclusively modern and very modern accomplishment⁴⁰
 
Mr. Falconer. To those who perceive it. All things are as they are perceived. To me music has no charm without expression.
 
Lord Curryfin. (who, having observed Mr. MacBorrowdale's determination not to be drawn into an argument, amused himself with asking his opinion on all subjects). What is your opinion, Mr. MacBorrowdale?
 
Mr. MacBorrowdale. I hold to the opinion I have already expressed, that this is as good a glass of port as ever I tasted.
 
Lord Curryfin. I mean your opinion of modern music and musical instruments.
 
Mr. MacBorrowdale. The organ is very good for psalms⁴¹, which I never sing, and the pianoforte for jigs⁴², which I never dance. And if I were not to hear either of them from January to December, I should not complain of the privation.
 
Lord Curryfin. You are an utilitarian⁴³, Mr. MacBorrowdale. You are all for utility—public utility—and you see none in music.
 
Mr. MacBorrowdale. Nay⁴⁴, not exactly so. If devotion is good, if cheerfulness is good, and if music promotes each of them in proper time and place, music is useful. If I am as devout⁴⁵ without the organ, and as cheerful without the piano, as I ever should be with them, that may be the defect of my head or............