Dec. 27, 1883] 



NATURE 



199 



to deal. I5 music, in the English sense of the word, 

 which no wise differs from the Italian, an art or a science? 

 It is clearly both ; but the art, liova-Ut], so far predominates 

 in public acceptance and cultivation over the science, 

 I'lpfiovia, that the latter is, and has been for many centuries, 

 in danger of succumbing altogether. Indeed, though 

 excellently begun by Euclid in his " Sectio Canonis,'' it 

 remained all but unadvanced until the recent researches 

 of Helmholtz. It is to Aristotle that we owe the general 

 test by which to distinguish an art from a science ; a test 

 so satisfactory and so neat, that it produces the effect on 

 the mind of a mathematical demonstration ; a form of 

 proof which is too often only a roundabout way of re- 

 stating a self-evident proposition. Aristotle said that art 

 at its best only works by "rule of thumb"'; and states 

 that Texi'i is governed by rules. When these rules arc 

 found to rest on recognised laws, the art becomes an 

 fTno-Tij/iT), or science. This observation, made two thousand 

 years ago by the shrewdest of all shrewd observers, 

 remains as true and as fresh as on the day when it was 

 promulgated. To no branch of human learning does it 

 apply with such force and directness as to music. For 

 perfection in this art has always been, is now, and must 

 continue to be, confined to a few sensitive, delicate, finely- 

 strung natures, which differ from those of their fellow- 

 creatures in possessing a peculiar technical power and 

 organisation such that they instinctively reproduce, and 

 as it were consonate to the musical conceptions of other 

 minds. In all other respects they may be self-indulgent, 

 unbusinesslike, unpractical ; even, as indeed not uncom- 

 monly they are, over-sensitive and disagreeable. Types of 

 this class are Beethoven, Cherubini, Mozart, Weber, and 

 Berlioz. In them, in fact, the full development of artistic 

 perfection has eaten up all other good qualities, and left 

 no time or inclination for what Plato calls " the practice 

 of virtue." The world at large, secretly conscious of its 

 special inferiority, and always willing to discharge itself 

 of an unwelcome responsibility, too commonly looks upon 

 these exceptional natures as representing the whole, and 

 not only the artistic and executive fide of music. But the 

 other exists notwithstanding ; and its fuller cultivation 

 will tend much to restore the balance so disturbed. In 

 this respect the little book of Dottore Crotti has special 

 value. It deals with the foundation of rhythm and of 

 music, and with the strange and hitherto unexplained 

 emotional difference between the major and minor scales, 

 which in the Italian are prettily and correctly named 

 Giu'a and Triste respectively. The ratios of musical in- 

 ten'als and their combination are fully treated, and with 

 some features of novelty, especially as concerns their 

 physiological effects on the ear. The great fact, so much 

 forgotten in this century since the brilliant jigs of the 

 Rossinian school have become popular, that it is the bass, 

 and not the treble or melody, which is tixed and funda- 

 mental, is stated with abundant emphasis, and distinction 

 is made between the characters of repose and of move- 

 ment in different kinds of music. The assumption that 

 the scale is founded principally on the fractions repre- 

 senting the major and minor tones with only a simple 

 semitone of -jf seems hardly sufficient to meet theoretical 

 requirements ; but otherwise there is much of interest 

 comprised within the 55 pages of which the pamphlet 

 consists. It has the merit, moreover, beyond the his- 

 torical point already noted, of bearing out its title of 

 " acoustico-physiological," and of adverting to the mental 

 or receptive side of musical impressions more than occurs 

 in some modern treatises. W. H. Stone 



THE REMARKABLE SUNSETS 



'X*HE following letter has been sent to IVIr. Norman 

 '■ Lockyer : — 



The remarkable sunsets which have been recently 

 witnessed upon several occasions have brought to my 



recollection the still more remarkable effects which I 

 witnessed in 1880 in South America, during an eruption 

 of Cotopaxi; and a perusal of your highly-interesting letter 

 in the Times of the 8th inst. has caused me to turn to my 

 notes, with the result of finding that in several points they 

 appear to have some bearing upon the matter which you 

 ha\-e brought before the public. 



On July 3, 18S0, I was engaged in an ascent of Chim- 

 borazo, and was encamped on its western side, at 15,800 

 feet above the sea. The morning was fine, and all the 

 surrounding country was free from mist. Before sunrise, 

 we saw to our north the great peak of Illiniza, and twenty 

 miles to its east the greater cone of Cotopaxi, both without 

 a cloud around them, and the latter without any 

 smoke issuing from its crater — a most unusual circum- 

 stance ; indeed, this was the only occasion on which we 

 noticed the crater free from smoke during the whole of 

 our stay in Ecuador. Cotopaxi, it should be said, lies 

 about forty-five miles south of the equator, and was distant 

 from us sixty-five miles. 



We had left our camp, and had proceeded several 

 hundred feet upwards, being then more than i5,ooo feet 

 above the sea, when we observed the commencement of 

 an eruption of Cotopaxi. At 5.45 a.m. a column of smoke 

 of inky blackness began to rise from the crater. It went 

 up straight in the air, rapidly curling, with prodigious 

 velocity, and in less than a minute had risen 20,000 feet 

 above the rim of the crater. I had ascended Cotopaxi 

 some months earlier, and had found that its height was 

 19,600 feet. We knew that we saw from our station the 

 upper io,coo feet of the volcano, and I estimated the 

 height of the column of smoke at double the height of 

 the portion seen of the mountain. The top of the column 

 was therefore nearly 40,000 feet above the sea. At 

 that elevation it encountered a powerful wind blowing 

 from the east, and was rapidly borne for twenty 

 miles towards the Pacific, seeming to spread very 

 slightly and remaining of inky blackness, presenting tfe 



appearance of a gigantic inverted 1 , drawn upon an 



otherwise perfectly clear sky. It was then caught by a 

 wind blowing from the north, and was borne towards us, 

 and appeared to spread rapidly in all directions. As this 

 cloud came nearer and nearer =0 of course it seemed to 

 rise higher and higher in the sky, although it was actually 

 descending. Several hours passed before the ash com- 

 menced to intervene between the sun and ourselves, and 

 when it did so we witnessed effects which simply amazed 

 us. We saw a green sun, and such a green as we have 

 never, either before or since, seen in the heavens. We 

 saw- patches or smears of something like verdigris- 

 green in the sky, and they changed to equally extreme 

 blood-reds, or to coarse brick-dust reds, and they in an 

 instant passed to the colour of tarnished copper or shining 

 brass. Had we not know'n that these effects were due to 

 the passage of the ash, we might well have been filled with 

 dread instead of amazement ; for no words can convey the 

 faintest idea of ihe impressive appearance of these strange 

 colours in the sky, seen one minute and gone the next, 

 resembling nothing to which they can be properly com- 

 pared, and surpassing in vivid intensity the wildest effects 

 of the most gorgeous sunsets. 



The ash commenced to pass overhead at about mid- 

 day. It had travelled (including its detour to the west), 

 eighty-five miles in a little more than six hours. At 1.30 

 it commenced to fall on the summit of Chimborazo, 

 and before we began to descend it caused the snowy 

 summit to look like a ploughed field. The ash was 

 extraordinarily fine, as you will perceive by the sample I 

 send you. It filled our eyes and nostrils ; rendered eating 

 and drinking impossible ; and reduced us to breathe 

 ing through handkerchiefs. It penetrated everywhere, 

 got into the working parts of instruments, and into, 

 locked boxes. The barometer employed on the summit 

 was coated with it, and so remains until this day, 



