1915] on Music and Poetry 517 



solve the proolem in the "Choral Svmphony"and in the "Mass in D'' 

 can doubt this. Great words evoke mightier music than the words 

 will hold, so the music evoked Is apt to strain the verbal utterance 

 when suncf ; and in the case of Beethoven the musical idea was often 

 so titanic that the words seem to twist and break under the stress of 

 their music-al setting. This l^eing so, it would appear wise, as music 

 ofrows more potent and eloquent, to give up the problem of words. 

 Yet the human voice remains the most lovely musical instrument ; 

 moreover, music with words will always have a wider audience than 

 music alone. And it is the object of this lecture to show as clearly 

 as it may, that, h>eyond these two reasons, there is so strong a native 

 bond between the two arts that they cannot be put asunder ; though 

 independent of each other in their own sphere, they will always have 

 a domain where they hold complementary and united sway. 



Before going into details, I would remind you that bcth music 

 and poetry, both notes and words, are vital things. They move as ; 

 and it is impossible entirely to detach vital things for analysis. A 

 mechanism can be held in the hand, examined, analyzed, described 

 minutely. But a melody or a line of poetry is in the last resort as 

 elusive as a motive of the human heart. It is also highly necessary to 

 remember that a single note, as well as a single word, could scarcely 

 make an identical impression upon any two people. To use a homely 

 simile, it is well to approach so vital a matter much as a dentist 

 approaches a tooth he is to work upon, but not extract. He has 

 sundry paraphernalia with which he does his best to isolate it from the 

 rest of the organism ; but a decent dentist never forgets that it is still 

 indivisible from the living body of which it is a sensitive part. 



II. — FUXDAMEXTAL ATTRIBUTES. 



Remembering, then, that music and poetry are inseparable from 

 the men who make and enjoy them, let us try, for the purpc»se of 

 correlating them, to isolate and descril>e them. 



Both are obviously forms of human activity. Behind all human 

 activities there Is energy ; behind some there is energy plus purpose. 

 The purposeful doings of man are art in its wide sense, while the 

 purposeless doings are rightly called artless, and still have a charm of 

 their own. Now, purpose Is manifested in recognizable order or 

 design, that is, in some con-elation of things or of movement that 

 appeals to the intelligence of man, however slightly. In fact, it is 

 energy and design, life and form of hje^ that are the two perp»etual 

 interests of the V>eing and mind of man : and is not the negation of 

 human interest to be found in their complete opposites — death on 

 the one hand, chaos on the other ? There is clearly no such thing as 

 lifeless or formless an ; failing either life or form, all art fails : and 

 it may be noticed in passing that the work of reformers has always 



