We can scarcely doubt that as certain forms of music tend to raise us above the sensuality of the animal, or the more degrading passion of material gain, and to transport us into the ether of higher thought, so other forms are directly calculated to awaken in us luxurious emotions, and to whet those sensual appetites which it is the business of a philosopher not indeed to annihilate or to be ashamed of, but to keep rigidly in check.

This possibility of music to effect evil as well as good I have seen recognised, and very aptly expressed in some beautiful verses by Mr.Keble which I have just read:-- "'Cease, stranger, cease those witching notes, The art of syren choirs; Hush the seductive voice that floats Across the trembling wires.
"'Music's ethereal power was given Not to dissolve our clay, But draw Promethean beams from heaven To purge the dross away.'" "They are fine lines," said my brother, "but I do not see how you apply your argument to the present instance." "I mean," Mr.Gaskell answered, "that I have little doubt that the melody of this _Gagliarda_ has been connected in some manner with the life of the man you saw last night.

It is not unlikely, either, that it was a favourite air of his whilst in the flesh, or even that it was played by himself or others at the moment of some crisis in his history.
It is possible that such connection may be due merely to the innocent pleasure the melody gave him in life; but the nature of the music itself, and a peculiar effect it has upon my own thoughts, induce me to believe that it was associated with some occasion when he either fell into great sin or when some evil fate, perhaps even death itself, overtook him.

You will remember I have told you that this air calls up to my mind a certain scene of Italian revelry in which an Englishman takes part.

It is true that I have never been able to fix his features in my mind, nor even to say exactly how he was dressed.