The harp-strings of the heart are very sensitive. A finger-print or tear-stain upon the leaves of the old family Bible, the frail petals of a faded blossom, the sight of a tiny yellow garment or baby shoe, a package of letters tied with ribbon, or a scrap of paper scrawled by unskilled childish fingers, just little things that no one else admires or notices, is all that is required to start the music ringing in our hearts. To this music the soul always responds with a song. This is true even when one’s musical education has been neglected. The ear may not be able to distinguish one note from another, or discern the difference between “Old Hundred” and “The Star-Spangled Banner”; the individual may know nothing about harmony, time, or measure, when listening to the music that others have given to the world, but his own soul can always sing its own melodies. There is no note so high in the scale that the soul cannot reach it. I have heard the English lark lift its silver notes until they melted into sunshine and fell in great billows of joy upon the listening earth. Every soul can sing like that. As above the couch of David hung the harp awaiting the touch of the passing winds, so each heart is a stringed harp awaiting the touch of some common event to awaken music and set the soul to singing its minstrelsies. However beautiful these songs, they never pass the threshold of the lips. Their sweetness surpasses the power of expression. That must have been the reason why Mendelssohn wept so bitterly at times. With all his marvelous power in weaving tones he could not give expression to the rapturous melodies which were surging through his soul. This also explains why Michael Angelo so often gave way to the dreariest despondency. Though he try never so hard, he could not express upon canvas or in marble form the heavenly symphonies that were thrilling his soul. The reason that Lord Tennyson stood for such long periods upon the cliffs, overlooking the sea, not hearing the call of an approaching friend, was that his soul was searching through earth and sea and sky, for words with which to express the songs his soul was ever singing.