There is another side to the picture, however. In spite of the undeniable growth of musical culture among the American people of the eighteenth century, it cannot be said that music had a really intimate meaning for them, that they had woven it into the web of their lives, that they had found in it a necessary form of expression. Art is created that way. It may be the folk-song of an ignorant peasant or the symphony of a Mozart or Beethoven. But always it is born of a need for personal expression. Music was not personal to the American colonists; it was still an exotic, a pleasure supplied from outside sources, a diversion which serious men might occasionally enjoy but to which they could not afford to devote serious attention. Even among a certain class of Americans of the present day this attitude persists to some degree. Music is not yet generally regarded as a profession for men. Men go into business; they become brokers, lawyers, or politicians; they even become newspaper reporters--but not musicians. Music is still _par excellence_ the avocation of long-haired, libidinous foreigners. We may, perhaps, without injustice trace this attitude to Puritan New England. The aristocracy of the South had the aristocratic point of view. Most Southern gentlemen were practical musicians. They were not, of course, professional musicians--gentlemen did not adopt professions, except that of arms. But music had a certain personal meaning for them. It was a graceful and elegant medium for the expression of their gallant, romantic and courtly sentiments. They could sing of arms and the red glow of wine and the red lips of women--all frankly important things in their lives, all supposedly unimportant things in the lives of the upright New Englanders. But, as a vehicle for the expression of profound and fundamental emotions, music had no meaning to them. The aristocratic Southern point of view, however, did not impress itself on the mass of the American people; the New England point of view did. The psychological effect of New England on the rest of the country has been extraordinary. Certainly the New Englanders were fond of music; they encouraged it; they had considerable taste; they were glad to have their daughters take music lessons--music was a thoroughly ladylike accomplishment. When Priscilla spilled the 'Battle of Prague' _con brio_ over the 'forte piano' her performance brought undiluted joy to the parental heart. When Fil Trajetto played a concerto of Corelli the more cultivated Bostonian could justly appreciate the virtues of the composition and its performance. The people of New England had relatively as much taste and culture as the same class of people elsewhere. Nevertheless they did not feel music as a serious and necessary thing. V