place where he is more ready for mischief than on the platform of a reciter. Possibly the commonplace but important fact that the speaker is clothed " in his habit, as he lives," is the basis at the outset of a ludicrous. possibility of incongruity which may be seized on at any moment, or which only needs some unfortunate, imperceptible touch to be obvious at once to all. Whether this be so or not, it is certain that the Genius of humour places a peculiarly mischievous elf by the side of a reciter, who will seize on any, the slightest, vantage ground, and in a moment turn his work into. defeat of a very inglorious kind. To keep this spirit dormant and powerless is one of the chief tasks of such an artist. I think it is almost as difficult to keep this spirit at bay when you don't want him, as it is to gain his co-operation when you do.

MUSIC ALLIED WITII RECITATION.

Recitation with music has become an acknowledged branch of declamation. When I began it some fifteen years ago it was practically a new thing. It had been tried in certain pieces by Mr. Bellew years before-but in a different way to anything I attempted. But I had noted the never-failing effect on the stage of words spoken through music, and I had a great belief in the picturesque and articulately suggestive power of music. I have given perhaps more time to the development of this part of my work than to any other, and I feel certain I owe to it a large measure of such success as

has been granted to me. To some people, of course, the music is puzzling and confusing, and seems more of a detriment than an assistance to the meaning and emotion of the words spoken. Many people undoubtedly love music in a purely scholastic way. It never touches that deeper "music" which Kingsley so gloriously speaks of in a passage on music which I recite, or which Browning hints at in his marvellous "Abt Vogler." It never is articulate or picturesque. To such, of course, music in a recitation is no gain. But it is a fact that with the greater proportion of hearers it is a decided help; and with a certain inner circle again it exerts a strange and unique power of appeal. The work is difficult and delicate, and requires not only the greatest care and judgment, but also an amount of work that would surprise most of the listeners.

DIFFICULTIES OF THE DUAL ART.

It is on this latter point that I think the attempt to blend recitation and music generally fails. I have heard it attempted several times, but I cannot honestly say that I have ever heard in the combination any sign of the necessary forerunning work in rehearsal. It has always seemed haphazard. The work required to make the combination successful is great. Even when the music is carefully and skilfully composed by a musical adept, and the words and the music are really well woven together, not more than half the work is done. After I have composed my music to a note, and learnt

my words to a syllable, I often give weeks of hard practice to the performance. How splendid might be the combination of recitation and a fine band in a grand work of music! But alas! how poor the result generally must be confessed to be. I have once had the unhappiness of reciting on such an occasion Beethoven's "Egmont," and I, therefore, speak from expe rience. But the success that has attended Mr. Bemberg's "La Ballade du Désespéré" shows how excellent a success can, by skilful co-operation, be attained. I have written on the subject elsewhere,* and it may be permissible for me to quote my own words.

". . . I am willing to own that I do not yet see how recitation with music can be made effective under the conditions which usually mark the combination. At present the best chance of success seems to be for one and the same person to give both words and music. He is then master of the means employed. And it appears necessary that he should be master, and that the means employed should be under his control-or rather, under the control of the drama he enunciates. With great practice and an unusually swift understanding, and sympathy, a coherent work might be made between a reciter and a pianist, or even between a reciter and a band. But the latter would require the devotion and labour given to an opera at Bayreuth, instead of the casual combination that is too often attempted on such occasions.†

*Stray Records (Richard Bentley & Son).

Mr. Henry Irving tried the effect in that grisly story, The Uncle, music for which was composed by Sir Julius Benedict. Mr. Corder has composed music for a translation of Uhland's The Minstrel's Curse. Dr. Mackenzie has given us the cantata of The Dream of Jubal,

"Schumann and Liszt arranged several ballads for recitation with music. Musically these works are fine, but they do not seem to have even gained a real hold on public attention. I do not believe they ever will For, fine as they are, splendid as is the music, they have, I believe, the radical fault of misconception. They are pre-eminently musical. They should be preeminently declamatory. Mendelssohn's 'Athalie' has held its own best because in it the necessary conditions are best observed. Beethoven's Egmont' might, as I realise it to myself, have a superb effect-but to gain the effect would necessitate a revolution in the whole scheme of performance and character of rehearsal. . . .

MUSIC-AN AID ONLY.

Lately we have had several admirable and successful attempts at this new form of recitation. Dr. Mackenzie, Mr. Corder, and Mr. Bemberg have written. works in which recitation holds a part. I have always felt very strongly that some of Wagner's greatest work may almost be claimed as an example of this idea, for it is essentially declamatory. I like to believe that had this form of dramatic and poetic expression been presented to him in all its fine possibilities, he would have grasped its suggestion to the full, and given us a grand and perfect example of this new recitation.

But the mistake musicians have often made when they have composed music for a recited poem is that

they have overburdened the words with music. They do not like to accept the fact that the music is an accompaniment only-a background-at most an undercurrent of answering emotion. The moment it rises to the level of the words, it ceases to be an aid; the moment it overtops them, it is simply an encumbrance. The recitation-that is to say, the voice of the poet audible through the reciter-must always be prominent. Thus, long descriptive passages, which necessitate that the reciter should leave off speaking and pause for a longer time than he naturally would in the drama of the words, are all out of place and proportion, and confuse the sense of the hearer, who stands perplexed whether he is to judge the performance as one of music or of declamation. It is always my aim to keep the recitation so undisputedly the master of the situation that I could if necessary omit the music altogether, and give the poem simply as a recitation without altering a tone, or inflexion, or pause. The music has to fit itself into that.

The rhythm of the music and the verse may sometimes seem almost distinct, but they must be in sympathy, working indeed separately, and each on its own level, but now and then-sometimes on a word and a note-meeting with unfailing precision. The aim should be to keep the correspondence unbroken, though it may be often invisible.