ancient Hebrews and Greeks, has been always provided at political
meetings and processions, at picnics, dances, funerals, weddings--in
short, at all social and public gatherings? Obviously, because it has
the power of uniting the feelings of many into one homogeneous and
sympathetic wave of emotion. It has a sort of _compulsive_ force which
hurries along even those who are sluggish or unwilling. Plato, in his
Republic, gives the curious advice that, at meetings of older people
wine should be distributed, in order to make them more pliable and
receptive to the counsel of sages. Many would object to such a risky
policy, which, moreover, can well be dispensed with, since music has
quite as much power as wine to arouse a sympathetic and enthusiastic
state of mind at a public assembly, and without any danger of
disastrous consequences. It is the special function of music to
intensify all the emotions with which it is associated. It inflames
the courage of an army of soldiers marching on to defend their
country, their homes and families. It exalts the religious feelings of
church-goers, and makes them more susceptible to the minister's moral
counsels. Is it not absurd to say that such an art has no moral value?
One of the most eloquent of modern preachers, the late Henry Ward
Beecher, went so far as to admit that "In singing, you come into
sympathy with the Truth as you perhaps never do under the preaching of
a discourse."

The Rev. Dr. Haweis also bears testimony to the moral value of music,
in the following words: "I have known the Oratorio of the Messiah draw
the lowest dregs of Whitechapel into a church to hear it, and during
the performance sobs have broken forth from the silent and attentive
throng. Will anyone say that for these people to have their feelings
for once put through such a noble and long-sustained exercise as that,
could be otherwise than beneficial? If such performances of both