tching. Perhaps the memories of the old soldier, to which this man
still holds tenderly, may be turned into a "strain" or a "sonata," and
though the music does not contain, or even suggest any of the old
war-songs, it will be as sincerely American as the subject, provided
his (the composer's) interest, spirit, and character sympathize with,
or intuitively coincide with that of the subject.

Again, if a man finds that the cadences of an Apache war-dance come
nearest to his soul, provided he has taken pains to know enough other
cadences--for eclecticism is part of his duty--sorting potatoes means a
better crop next year--let him assimilate whatever he finds highest of
the Indian ideal, so that he can use it with the cadences, fervently,
transcendentally, inevitably, furiously, in his symphonies, in his
operas, in his whistlings on the way to work, so that he can paint his
house with them--make them a part of his prayer-book--this is all
possible and necessary, if he is confident that they have a part in his
spiritual consciousness. With this assurance his music will have
everything it should of sincerity, nobility, strength, and beauty, no
matter how it sounds; and if, with this, he is true to none but the
highest of American ideals (that is, the ideals only that coincide with
his spiritual consciousness) his music will be true to itself and
incidentally American, and it will be so even after it is proved that
all our Indians came from Asia.

The man "born down to Babbitt's Corners," may find a deep appeal in the
simple but acute "Gospel Hymns of the New England camp meetin'," of a
generation or so ago. He finds in them--some of them--a vigor, a depth
of feeling, a natural-soil rhythm, a sincerity, emphatic but
inartistic, which, in spite of a vociferous sentimentality, carries him
nearer the "Christ of the people" than does the Te Deum of the greatest
cathedral. These tunes have, for him, a truer ring than many of those
groove-made, even-measured, monotonous, non-rhythmed, indoor-smelling,
priest-taught, academic, English or neo-English hymns (and
anthems)--well-written, well-harmonized things, well-voice-led,
well-counterpointed, well-corrected, and well O.K.'d, by well corrected
Mus. Bac. R.F.O.G.'s-personified sounds, correct and inevitable to
sight and hearing--in a word, those proper forms of stained-glass
beauty, which our over-drilled mechanisms-boy-choirs are limited to.
But, if the Yankee can reflect the ferven