Critical Historical Essays | Page 4

known to man, namely, the drum. And such
as it was then, so is it now, with but few modifications.
Up to this point it is reasonable to assume that primeval man looked
upon the world purely subjectively. He considered himself merely a
unit in the world, and felt on a plane with the other creatures inhabiting
it. But from the moment he had invented the first musical instrument,
the drum, he had created something outside of nature, a voice that to
himself and to all other living creatures was intangible, an idol that
spoke when it was touched, something that he could call into life,
something that shared the supernatural in common with the elements. A
God had come to live with man, and thus was unfolded the first leaf in
that noble tree of life which we call religion. Man now began to feel
himself something apart from the world, and to look at it objectively
instead of subjectively.
To treat primitive mankind as a type, to put it under one head, to make
one theorem cover all mankind, as it were, seems almost an
unwarranted boldness. But I think it is warranted when we consider that,
aside from language, music is the very first sign of the dawn of
civilization. There is even the most convincingly direct testimony in its

favour. For instance:
In the Bay of Bengal, about six hundred miles from the Hoogly mouth
of the Ganges, lie the Andaman Islands. The savages inhabiting these
islands have the unenviable reputation of being, in common with
several other tribes, the nearest approach to primeval man in existence.
These islands and their inhabitants have been known and feared since
time immemorial; our old friend Sinbad the Sailor, of "Arabian Nights"
fame, undoubtedly touched there on one of his voyages. These savages
have no religion whatever, except the vaguest superstition, in other
words, fear, and they have no musical instruments of any kind. They
have reached only the rhythm stage, and accompany such dances as
they have by clapping their hands or by stamping on the ground. Let us
now look to Patagonia, some thousands of miles distant. The Tierra del
Fuegians have precisely the same characteristics, no religion, and no
musical instruments of any kind. Retracing our steps to the Antipodes
we find among the Weddahs or "wild hunters" of Ceylon exactly the
same state of things. The same description applies without distinction
equally well to the natives in the interior of Borneo, to the Semangs of
the Malay Peninsula, and to the now extinct aborigines of Tasmania.
According to Virchow their dance is demon worship of a purely
anthropomorphic character; no musical instrument of any kind was
known to them. Even the simple expression of emotions by the voice,
which we have seen is its most primitive medium, has not been
replaced to any extent among these races since their discovery of
speech, for the Tierra del Fuegians, Andamans, and Weddahs have but
one sound to represent emotion, namely, a cry to express joy; having no
other means for the expression of sorrow, they paint themselves when
mourning.
It is granted that all this, in itself, is not conclusive; but it will be found
that no matter in what wilderness one may hear of a savage beating a
drum, there also will be a well-defined religion.
Proofs of the theory that the drum antedates all other musical
instruments are to be found on every hand. For wherever in the
anthropological history of the world we hear of the trumpet, horn, flute,

or other instrument of the pipe species, it will be found that the drum
and its derivatives were already well known. The same may be said of
the lyre species of instrument, the forerunner of our guitar (_kithara_),
tebuni or Egyptian harp, and generally all stringed instruments, with
this difference, namely, that wherever the lyre species was known, both
pipe and drum had preceded it. We never find the lyre without the drum,
or the pipe without the drum; neither do we find the lyre and the drum
without the pipe. On the other hand, we often find the drum alone, or
the drum and pipe without the lyre. This certainly proves the antiquity
of the drum and its derivatives.
I have spoken of the purely rhythmical nature of the pre-drum period,
and pointed out, in contrast, the musical quality of the drum. This may
seem somewhat strange, accustomed as we are to think of the drum as a
purely rhythmical instrument. The sounds given out by it seem at best
vague in tone and more or less uniform in quality. We forget that all
instruments of percussion, as they are called, are direct descendants of
the drum. The bells that hang in our church towers are