municate and enforce. This is continually
apparent in "The Lover" and "Sweetheart," fugitively so in the
"Prologue," and, in an irresistible degree, in the exceedingly poetic
and deeply felt "Epilogue"--one of the most typical and beautiful of
MacDowell's smaller works. The music of these pieces is, as with other
of his earlier works that he has since revised, confusing to the
observer who attempts to place it among his productions in the order
suggested by its opus number. For although in the list of his
published works the "Marionettes" follow immediately on the heels of
the Concert Study and "Les Orientales" the form in which they are
now most generally known represents the much later period of the
"Keltic" sonata--a fact which will, however, be sufficiently evident
to anyone who studies the two versions carefully enough to perceive
the difference between more or less experimental craftsmanship and
ripe and heedful artistry. The observer will notice in these pieces,
incidentally, the abandonment of the traditional Italian terms of
expression and the substitution of English words and phrases, which
are used freely and with adroitness to indicate every shade of the
composer's meaning. In place of the stereotyped terms of the
music-maker's familiarly limited vocabulary, we have such a system of
direct and elastic expression as Schumann adopted. Thus one finds, in
the "Prologue," such unmistakable and illuminating directions as:
"with sturdy good humour," "pleadingly," "mockingly"; in the
"Soubrette"--"poutingly"; in the "Lover"--in the "Villain"--"with
sinister emphasis," "sardonically." This method, which MacDowell has
followed consistently in all his later works, has obvious advantages;
and it becomes in his hands a picturesque and stimulating means for
the conveyance of his intentions. Its defect, equally obvious, is that
it is not, like the conventional Italian terminology, universally
intelligible.

The "Twelve Studies" of op. 39 are less original in conception and of
less artistic moment than the "Marionettes." Their titles--among which
are a "Hunting Song," a "Romance," a "Dance of the Gnomes," and others
of like connotation--suggest, in a measure, that imperfectly realised
romanticism which I have before endeavoured to separate from the
intimate spirit of sincere romance which MacDowell has so often
succeeded in embodying. The same thing is true, though in a less
degree, of the suite for orchestra (op. 42). It