the phraseology used in the expression, and the
metrical form ; but when a dramatic poem receives
a musical setting, it is evident that the relative
importance of the elements will not remain the
same. While the development of the drama and
the arrangement of the scenes for securing the
due relation of the parts to the whole will not be
affected, except that the more ideal treatment may
demand some suppression of detail, and a broader
outline ; and while the necessity for a choice of
words and phrases that are themselves euphonious,
and that have poetic associations, is in no way
lessened, it is entirely otherwise with the question
of metrical form. A new rhythm, arbitrary but
rigid, is imposed by the musician, which must
override the original rhythm of the verse. The
possibility of expanding one verbal syllable into
two or more musical notes, and of assigning to
each of these a definite time-value, determined
entirely at the discretion of the composer, makes
any subtleties of metrical achievement in the
poet of no account ; and the further the music
is evolved from the primitive form of the set aria
to the continuous melody which absorbs recita-
tive and air in one uninterrupted strain throughout
the scene, the more completely will the independent
rhythm of the verse be subordinated. For the pur-
poses of a music-drama, the inelodic refinements
of a Coleridge, a Tennyson, a Swinburne, would be
entirely thrown away ; but let no one rashly infer
that any charm is necessarily lost on that account,
or that the poefs function is thereby degraded.
That no field will be left for ' absolute ' poetry, any
more than for ' absolute ' music, is not implied in
the contention that, by a combination of these arts,
a higher product can be obtained than either can
afford out of its own resources ; and if this co-opera-
tion should involve a certain sacrifice of exclusive
aim on the part of each for the common end, will
not the reward be found which follows all repression
of egoistic tendencies in obedience to a wider ideal .
Nor is the sacrifice so great. Is not the manipula-
tion of words to suit the requirements of an artificial
metre, by which the poet strives to express his sense of
rhythm, — is not this a poor mechanical substitute at
the best for the spontaneous melody with which the
musician can invest the poetic meaning .^ The rise
of the music-drama as a new art-form is not, indeed,
the only sign of the dethronement of metrical verse
from its absolute pretensions as the highest embodi-
ment of poetic expression. The gradual approach
of prose style, as represented in such writers as
Ruskin, to the rhythmical significance of verse ; the
revolt against the dominance of the conventional
devices of poetry, announced in the theories and
practice of Walt Whitman ; the withdrawal of our
modern poets of repute from all claim to submit
their so-called plays for actual stage representation,
— all these facts are signs, which those wlio run may
read, that unless dramatic poetry will end its long
and unnatural divorce from music, it has no future
except as a fossil relic of what was once a useful
stop-gap in the history of artistic evolution.
What, then, is the ideal of the dramatic poet of the future, who is prepared to seek a new lease of life by filling a place in the new synthesis of the arts, to which Wagner has shown the way ? It has already been pointed out that the chief functions of the poet are not affected by relieving him of the trammels of a rigid metrical form. The choice of a fitting subject, the imaginative conception of it as a whole, the orderly arrangement of the parts, the artistic treatment of detail, are all committed to his hands, and surely this is a wide and worthy sphere. But even in the mechanism of expression there is plenty of arduous work for him to do. The selection of the best words and phrases is no light task indeed. Are writers of what De Quiiicey termed 'imaginative prose' so common among us ? The masters in this craft could be counted on the finsers of one hand. But in addition to the wide ranee of possible advance in these directions, the librettist is not made altogether independent of rhythm. Though the final appeal to the musician removes the niceties of metrical execution from his treatment, there are certain primary rhythmical effects which he must supply, and if these are of a somewhat general character, they nevertheless demand artistic skill and sympathy of no mean order. What may be the precise form or forms of verse best suited for association with music in a dramatic work it would be premature to decide, nor would it be wise to lay down rigid canons which might narrow the range of experiment in this sphere; but, with most of us who have studied Wagners works, the conviction has grown that, for the treatment of the myth in dramatic shape, the use of alliterative verse, with its strongly-marked accents, and its happy association with primitive modes of literary expression, was evidence of genuine poetic inspiration.
James Oliphant.
