ovement of his Eighth
Symphony and the scherzo of his Ninth, he tunes them in octaves, his
purpose in the latter case being to give the opening figure, an octave
leap, of the scherzo melody to the drums solo. The most extravagant
use ever made of the drums, however, was by Berlioz in his "Messe des
Morts," where he called in eight pairs of drums and ten players to
help him to paint his tonal picture of the terrors of the last
judgment. The post of drummer is one of the most difficult to fill in
a symphonic orchestra. He is required to have not only a perfect sense
of time and rhythm, but also a keen sense of pitch, for often the
composer asks him to change the pitch of one or both of his drums in
the space of a very few seconds. He must then be able to shut all
other sounds out of his mind, and bring his drums into a new key while
the orchestra is playing--an extremely nice task.

[Sidenote: _The bass drum._]

The development of modern orchestral music has given dignity also to
the bass drum, which, though definite pitch is denied to it, is now
manipulated in a variety of ways productive of striking effects. Rolls
are played on it with the sticks of the kettle-drums, and it has been
emancipated measurably from the cymbals, which in vulgar brass-band
music are its inseparable companions.

[Sidenote: _The conductor._]

[Sidenote: _Time-beaters and interpreters._]

[Sidenote: _The conductor a necessity._]

In the full sense of the term the orchestral conductor is a product of
the latter half of the present century. Of course, ever since
concerted music began, there has been a musical leader of some kind.
Mural paintings and carvings fashioned in Egypt long before Apollo
sang his magic song and

"Ilion, like a mist, rose into towers,"

show the conductor standing before his band beating time by clapping
his hands; and if we are to credit what we have been told about Hebrew
music, Asaph, Heman, and Jeduthun, when they stood before their
multitudinous choirs in the temple at Jerusalem, promoted synchronism
in the performance by stamping upon the floor with lead-shodden feet.
Before the era which developed what I might call "star" conductors,
these leaders were but captains of tens and captains of hundreds who
accomplished all that was expected of them if they made the performers
keep musical step together. They were time-beaters merely--human
metronomes. The modern conductor is, in a sense not dreamed of a
cent