IN POETRY AND MUSIC TOGETHER WITH MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART TWO ESSAYS IN COMPARATIVE ÆSTHETICS BY GEORGE LANSING RAYMOND, L.H.D. PROFESSOR OF ÆSTHETICS IN THE College of neW JERSEY AT princeton; AUTHOR Lit 1-93.94.10 Lit 1498.94, 10 HARVARD COPYRIGHT, 1894 BY G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS Entered at Stationers' Hall, London 3 2044 021 659 230 Electrotyped, Printed and Bound by PREFACE. "HIS tendency is to systematize that which is beyond the reach of systematic exposition," "to formulate ideas and qualities not reducible to formulæ,' one . with "full of learning and suggestive as the book is is lost in its infinite wrinkles," "fills the mind a tremendous lot of fancies,"-such are the comments with which some are now qualifying their acknowledg. ments-very late in many cases-of the essential differences between the thought presented in this series of essays, and in previous works upon the same subject. Were there proof that a single writer of such comments had made a sincere endeavor to follow the lines of thought which in these essays have been developed in accordance with the simplest principles of logic and common sense, the opinions thus expressed might be entitled to grave consideration. As it is, they are very apparent utterances of superficial impressions, such as naturally occur to any one who has not looked into a subject deeply enough to be fully aware of its complexities, or of the essential importance and possibility of analyzing them. As applied to the essay on "Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry and Music," the pre-judgments of every one of these critics would agree with that of the first of two authors conversing, a year or more ago, in language somewhat as follows: "No one can explain the methods underlying the subtle harmonies of Swinburne's lyrics." "Not the first who attempts it, perhaps; but do you think it intrinsically impossible?" "If he could explain the methods, he could produce the effects; and we can't have two Swinburnes." "Are you sure of your inferences? I may be able to explain exactly what it is in the shading or coloring of a picture, in the pose or gesture of a figure, which represents the meaning that attracts and charms me. But, unless myself a painter, I can't make a figure like it." "What object would your explanation gain . then?" And this was the reply: First, a philosophic object. The causes underlying the effects of art are in themselves as interesting as any underlying the effects of nature-like the rising and falling of the tides, the coming and going of the storms, the sprouting of the leaves in spring, and their falling in the autumn. And, second, a practical object. If a man be a painter, to let him know precisely what it is that charms us in a color or an outline may enable him by a few touches to change an unsuccessful product into one fitted to charm all those whose tastes agree with our own. And so with a poet. Those who have ever attempted verses know the constant danger of having the formsmetre, alliteration, assonance, rhyme-to which their thought is harnessed, run away with it and wreck it. Yet without the aid of these, what could carry the thought a single step in an artistic direction? The poet must learn to get along, not without them but with them; yet in such a way as to keep them in subjection, as exemplified in what is done by the acknowledged masters. And there is another practical object to be gained. This is to enable critics and through them, and in connection with them, people in general to understand and hence to appreciate and enjoy that in art which is excellent. At present, it has to be acknowledged that to attain this object seems wellnigh beyond hope. Owing to a lack of breadth and balance characterizing the practical limitations of American culture, a man here who tries to treat art philosophically finds his way blocked at the very threshold of his undertaking with two almost insurmountable obstacles. One is that few of our philosophers have had sufficient æsthetic training to be interested in that which concerns art; and the other is that few of our artistsincluding our art-critics, though there are noteworthy exceptions—have had sufficient philosophical training to be interested in that which concerns philosophy. Accordingly, as a rule, the philosopher never looks at the art-book at all; and the art-critic on whom the public relies for information concerning it, does so merely because he cannot dodge what is tossed directly at him as a reviewer; but the little that he sees of it he usually misapprehends and very frequently misrepresents. These statements are not uncharitable. They are essentially the opposite. Otherwise, if articles published in some of our foremost journals-journals that would be universally placed upon every list of the first half-score critical authorities in our country-could not be attributed to a lack of intelligence, one would be obliged to attribute them to a lack of integrity. For instance, it is a simple logical process, before defining the exact limitations of a subject, to show its relations to other subjects by separating it from its surroundings; in other words, to advance from the generic to the specific; and nothing, to a welltrained mind, could appear more unjust than to represent the beginning of this process as if it were the end of it. Yet a criticism upon "Art in Theory," published in "The |