ms almost grotesque.

But while admitting that _Tristan_ is a symphony that is not suitable
for representation, one also recognises its blemishes and, above all,
its unevenness. The orchestration in the first act is often rather thin,
and the plot lacks solidity. There are gaps and unaccountable holes, and
melodious lines left suspended in space. From beginning to end, lyrical
bursts of melody are broken by declamations, or, what is worse, by
dissertations. Frenzied whirlwinds of passion stop suddenly to give
place to recitatives of explanation or argument. And although these
recitatives are nearly always a great relief, although these
metaphysical reveries have a character of barbarous cunning that one
relishes, yet the superior beauty of the movements of pure poetry,
emotion, and music is so evident, that this musical and philosophical
drama serves to give one a distaste for philosophy and drama and
everything else that cramps and confines music.

But the musical part of _Tristan_ is not free either from the faults of
the work as a whole, for it, too, lacks unity. Wagner's music is made up
of very diverse styles: one finds in it Italianisms and Germanisms and
even Gallicisms of every kind; there are some that are sublime, some
that are commonplace; and at times one feels the awkwardness of their
union and the imperfections of their form. Then again, perhaps two ideas
of equal originality come together and spoil each other by making too
strong a contrast. The fine lamentation of King Mark--that
personification of a knight of the Grail--is treated with such
moderation and with so noble a scorn for outward show, that its pure,
cold light is entirely lost after the glowing fire of the duet.

The work suffers everywhere from a lack of balance. It is an almost
inevitable defect, arising from its very grandeur. A mediocre work may
quite easily be perfect of its kind; but it is rarely that a work lofty
aim attains perfection. A landscape of little dells and smiling meadows
is brought more readily into pleasing harmony than a landscape of
dazzling Alps, torrents, glaciers, and tempests; for the heights may
sometimes overwhelm the picture and spoil the effect. And so it is with
certain great pages of _Tristan_. We may take for example the verses
which tell of excruciating expectation--in the second act, Isolde's
expectation on the night filled with desire; and, in the third act,
Tristan's expectation, as he lies wounded and d