The art of music undergoes change, as does language, because it adapts itself to the expression of changing views of life. “Everything new,” says Frazer, “is apt to excite the awe and dread of the savage.” The active and exploring temperament seeks new experiences intellectual as well as physical; the temperament that is sedentary and passive shelters itself behind what is already well established. It dreads novelty and dreads it particularly in music――that is, if it is susceptible to music at all――for the very reason that music is the most immediate means of expressing innermost experiences such as mankind often fears to express in the more easily misinterpreted medium of words. Music has at all times been strangely associated with fear. From the earliest days it was the confederate of magic and religion. Even in classical Greece it was regarded as a thing of danger if not kept under the severest control. Sir Henry Hadow has pointed out that in the whole of classical Greek literature there is not a word of what we can call musical criticism, that is, criticism of music simply as an art in itself. But although moralists discussed it from a strictly ethical point of view, their very fear of it shows how powerful must have been its influence on those who enjoyed it. The absence of critical writings does not necessarily imply an absence of artistic feeling or artistic discrimination. It is a matter of common knowledge that the Greek word for “music” covered a far wider field than the word does to-day. Music was to the Greeks practically inseparable from poetry, so that we find on the one hand that their poetry absorbs much of the inventive skill which we now consider to be more appropriate to music, and on the other hand that music comes in for a good deal of the ethical censure which is more likely to be due to the poetry. Fortunately artists have at all times been reluctant to submit to the tyranny of moralists.