not be supposed that touch on the organ is of no importance. The keys must be pressed rather than struck, but still with such decision that their inequalities may be neutralised, otherwise the player will find that some notes do not speak at all. Perhaps the most important part of organ touch is the release of the key, which can hardly be too decided. The organ punishes laxity in this direction more severely than any instrument. Shakes on the organ should not be too quick; with the pneumatic action they are sometimes almost impossible. Care should be taken in playing staccato passages on slow speaking stops of the Gamba kind, especially in the lower part of the keyboard. The crispness should be not in the stroke but in the release of the key. It is generally said that the hand should be held rather higher above the keys than in the case of the piano, but as has been before pointed out, it is difficult to keep the same position towards keys so differently placed in relation to the performer as the upper and lower of four or even three manuals.
Modern key makers have invented a new danger by lessening the space between the black keys, so that in a chord where the white keys must be played between the black, it is impossible for some fingers to avoid depressing the adjacent notes.
Pedal touch has within recent times become a possibility, and passages for the feet are now as carefully phrased as those for the fingers. Mendelssohn's organ sonatas afford the earliest important examples. Freedom in the ancle joint is the chief condition of success in this. The player must be warned that large pipes will not speak quickly, and that a staccato must be produced by allowing the pedal key to rise quickly rather than by a sharp stroke.
TOUCH in bell-ringing denotes any number of changes less than a peal, the latter term being properly used only for 'the performance of the full number of changes which may be rung on a given number of bells.' By old writers the word touch is used as equivalent to sound, in which sense it occurs in Massinger's 'Guardian' (Act ii. Sc. 4), where Severino says 'I'll touch my horn—(blows his horn).' An earlier example will be found in the Romance of Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight (c. 1320) line 120, p. 4 of the edition of 1864. The word appears also to have been used in English music during two centuries for a Toccata. 'A touche by Mr. Byrd' is found in the MS. of a virginall piece in the British Museum; and 'Mr. Kelway's touches,' as a heading to several passages of a florid character, appears in a MS., probably in the handwriting of Dr. B. Cooke, in the Library of the Royal College of Music.
TOURDION, or TORDION. 'A turning, or winding about; also, a tricke, or pranke; also, the daunce tearmed a Round.' (Cotgrave.) The early French dances were divided into two classes, 'Danses Basses' or 'Danses Nobles,' and 'Danses par haut.' The former of these included all regular dances, the latter were mere improvised romps or 'baladinages.' The regular Basse Dance consisted of two parts, the first was twice repeated, and the last, or 'Tourdion,' was probably something like our modern round dances. The Tourdion was therefore the French equivalent for the German Nachtanz, Proportio, or Hoppeltanz, and the Italian Saltarello. [See vol. iii. p. 221b.] Tabourot says that the Tourdion was nearly the same as the Galliard, but the former was more rapid and smooth than the latter. [See vol. i. p. 578a.] Hence he defines it as a 'Gaillarde par terre,' i.e. a galliard deprived of its characteristic jumps and springs. Both dances were in 3-time. The following is the tune of the Tourdion given in the 'Orchésographie':
Further particulars as to these dances may be found in the 'Provinciales' of Antonio de Arena (1537). [See Trihoris.]
TOURJÉE, Eben, Mus. Doc., father of the Conservatory or class system of musical instruction in America, was born at Warwick, Rhode Island, June 1, 1834. His family being in humble circumstances it became necessary to put him to work at the early age of eight; but his thirst for knowledge was so great, that he soon became a laborious student at the East Greenwich seminary. Having a good alto voice he sang in the choir of the Methodist Church, learning his part by rote. But it chanced that the organist was about to withdraw, and young Tourjée was invited to fill her place. He was at that time but thirteen, and knew absolutely nothing of the instrument; but he managed to pick out the tunes required for the following Sunday, and played them with such success that he was appointed to the position. He at once began to study with a teacher in Providence, often walking thirteen miles each way. At the age of fifteen he became clerk in a music store in Providence, and thus had opportunities for study which he did not fail to improve. At the age of seventeen he opened a music store in Fall River, where he also taught music in the public schools and formed classes in piano, voice, and organ, charging the moderate sum of one dollar to each pupil for twenty lessons. This was in 1851, and was really the beginning of the class system, which he has since so largely developed. He also edited and published a musical paper with much ability. He afterwards removed to Newport, and continued his work as organist and choirmaster of Old Trinity Church there, and as Director of the local Choral Society. In 1859 he founded a Musical Institute at East Greenwich, where
