CULTIVATING GENIUS FOR MUSIC: by E. A. Neresheimer

THE natural gift for music which during recent years is so frequently found in very young children of all civilized nations, is a phenomenon that has given rise to much speculation on the part of active theorists. However, the "brain molecule" scientists have been significantly silent on that—to them—perplexing question, and so have the other doctors of learning who explain every human quality on a theory of "hereditary transmission." Nor does the "gift of God, or Holy Spirit" theory explain this wonderful but most natural manifestation of the progress of the human soul.

No theory will account for these and other gifts in children, that has not for its basis knowledge of the natural growth from one life to another—reincarnation.

When we reflect how diligently the smallest accomplishment must be earned before we can call it our own, and how delightfully secure we are in its possession when once we have attained to it, the question is then more like this: May it not be that a musical prodigy is after all the Soul himself that has labored through many lives on earth with ceaseless diligence, following its aspirations and love for music, and is now earning the fruitage thereof?

Many people say: "Oh! I am so fond of music"; but they never go to a concert or to an opera; nor are they any more fond of music in reality than of hearing themselves talk, because the beginning of music is to them the sign to begin a conversation quickly. To the majority music scarcely yet exists.

There are some people who have a quiet love for music; they go unobtrusively to places where good music is made, listen with attention, and go home in a serene, satisfied mood. Such persons, from their youth on, embrace every opportunity to hear music in high and low places; they look longingly at the instruments displayed in music-stores and, perchance, in the hours that others devote to rest or folly, they plod away for years unaided, practising on some unsuitable instrument. No one pays particular attention to such a budding artist. Perhaps he himself is not aware that his judgment grows better, riper, keener; that the finer distinctions of music are becoming to him sharply defined and thus satisfactory to his consciousness; his ear, too, waxes critical at dissonances, and his very soul also delights in the musical gems, in the flowing rhythms and harmonies.

The long weary days that are drowned for the multitude in an ocean of sensation, do not exist for the person who is deeply, truly, interested in music. Such a one may not hear music for days or weeks, nor have any particular melody running through his brain; but in his sub-conscious mind there is such a reservoir of harmonies that flow and flow all the time, making him thoughtful, meditative, happy. He laughs or sighs like other people, but there is something besides, that shows in his countenance or manner, something that one instinctively feels is lofty; perhaps it is music running through his blood, singing all the while.

There are some who by Karma's decree have a father or a mother who recognize a little talent for music in the child and let him be taught, and by encouragement promote his musical development. This is like bestowing a priceless treasure on the one so favored, for now he enters upon the realm of one of the mysteries of the Eternal.

Once begun, there is no end. On and on goes the progress, revealing with each step an ever-widening horizon of beauty, love, happiness.

The musician goes inward, ever inward. All is being transformed and remodeled in his soul. The tears are music, the joys are music, the whole world is music; men and women are like harps on which to play; he can sway them from one extreme mood to another; and he?—he really owns the world, never to lose it!

On the other hand there are some who practise on a musical instrument for hours every day. Years roll by, but there seems to be no progress made, at least there is no appreciation of progress at the hands of other persons. Still, the musicians belonging to this class do not seem to be discouraged. They may grow old the while, but never relax in their aspirations. What for? Think you, perhaps, that all this one-pointedness, this expenditure of energy to attain to an ideal, will be lost when the man dies? Not so! Nothing is ever lost. Nature preserves everything. Every single effort leaves its imprint upon the soul in which the result finally inheres. When such a life has come to its end the people may say: "Poor musician! he labored all his lifetime and accomplished nothing!" But see! when a boy suddenly appears who at the age of eight years can play an instrument, surmounting the most difficult technique with great ease, almost as if he had known it before he commenced—what then? We begin to look around for the hereditary connexion; and here we see quite often that neither his parents nor cousins or any relations have or had any trace of such talent.

How comes it then that the prodigy can do this without having to learn it like other people? May it not be that he has really learned it at some time, in another life and stored it away in his soul, and now, he simply manifests most naturally what is his own?

Truly, artists are not made out of nothing. They are made out of all these things that they previously, diligently and persistently, labored for. Every bit of it, every feeling, every emotion, and every touch of the heart, of the head, and of the hand that they now manifest is of their own making, without any miracle or extraneous grace. Thus is Genius for music cultivated.