poetical faculties.

"In "Rienzi," he he says, 'I took my subject as I found it, ready made in another man's finished production. . . . With the "Flying Dutchman" I entered upon a new course, by becoming the artistic interpreter of a subject which was given to me only in the simple crude form of a popular tale. From this time I became, with regard to all my dramatic works, first of all a poet; and only on the ultimate completion of the poem my faculty as a musician was restored to me. But as a poet I was again from the beginning conscious of my power of expressing musically the import of my subjects. This power I had exercised to such a degree that I was perfectly certain of my ability of applying it to the realisation of my poetical purpose.' It would be difficult, if indeed it be at all possible, to find anything in any literature to surpass the shameless effrontery of this astonishing passage. It is consoling to think that Art cannot be permanently injured

C

by audacious statement and unblushing selfassertion.

While in Switzerland, Herr Wagner not only wrote, he studied and thought; and it was from 'the processes of metaphysical thought and historical study' that he became conscious of the ultimate aim of his own and of all Art (Hueffer, p. 73). To these processes we owe the Ring of the Niebelungs,' which was eventually performed in 1876 at Bayreuth before an enthusiastic audience.

Herr Hueffer probably thought it unnecessary to explain the extraordinary success of works so long neglected. Are they not the results of the purest inspiration, directed by metaphysical thought and historical study? But are there not sceptics who doubt the inspiration of the great Poet-Satirist-Musician; who scoff at the empty bathos of his verses; and who call his metaphysical and æsthetic disquisitions balderdash? Are there not evil-minded persons

who consider the grand Music-Dramas formless rhapsodies, and who attribute their success at Bayreuth to the money and influence of the King of Bavaria, and to the strong national feeling evoked in Germany by the war against France? These elements of success may be quietly ignored, but their existence cannot be denied. So strong a feeling of patriotism naturally arose in Germany after 1866 that any German work of art would have been warmly received simply because it was German. the same time one of her rulers was devoted to music as no king before was ever devoted to it, and he spared neither money nor pains in pushing forward the new operas of Herr Wagner. Under such circumstances success was not difficult: failure was well-nigh impossible.

At

We must now turn from Herr Wagner himself to his theories, which it takes nine volumes to expound. In these volumes, he

'lays a firm hold on almost all the moving currents of contemporary thought, overpowering their heterogeneous motions, and leading them with an unequalled force of concentration to the one aim of its own aspiration. Politics, religion, history, and national economy are treated with the same sovereign power of centripetal rotation, in so far as they may tend to the desired ideal of a new phase of art' (Hueffer, p. 13). What meaning the reader may succeed in extracting from this medley of words, it is not for us to say; but we freely confess that it is to us what the writing upon the wall was to the King of Babylon. These extraordinary sentences must have been written either in jest, or in earnest. If they were written in jest, they are certainly successful, although inferior to Foote's nonsense:--'So she went into the garden to cut a cabbage-leaf to make an apple-pie; and at the same time a great she-bear, coming up the street, pops its

head into the shop. "What! no soap ?" So he died, and she very imprudently married the barber; and there were present the Picninnies, and the Joblillies, and the Garyulies, and the Grand Panjandrum himself, with the little round button at top; and they fell to playing games of catch as catch can, till the gunpowder ran out at the heels of their boots.' If, on the other hand, Herr Hueffer is in earnest, comment and criticism are alike impossible. One can only criticise what one understands. We may suggest to Herr Hueffer, however, the wisdom of confining himself to the German language. English is too clear and too logical for his purpose. In future let him write in German, and rigidly prohibit the right of translation.

The outcome of the nine volumes is simply this, that Herr Wagner has come forward as 'the longed-for Messiah, to deliver future generations from the fetters of custom and