It is a
difficult task, and is only possible when the different elements are
reduced to their simplest expression and brought down to their
fundamental qualities--thus depriving them of the spice of their
individuality. M. d'Indy puts different styles and ideas on the anvil,
and then forges them vigorously. It is natural that here and there we
should see the mark of the hammer, the imprint of his determination; but
it is only by his determination that he welded the work into a solid
whole.

Perhaps it is determination that brings unity now and then into M.
d'Indy's spirit. With reference to this, I will dwell upon one point
only, since it is curious, and seems to me to be of general artistic
interest. M. d'Indy writes his own poems for his "_actions
musicales_"--Wagner's example, it seems, has been catching. We have seen
how the harmony of a work may suffer through the dual gifts of its
author; though he may have thought to perfect his composition by writing
both words and music. But an artist's poetical and musical gifts are not
necessarily of the same order. A man has not always the same kind of
talent in other arts that he has in the art which he has made his own--I
am speaking not only of his technical skill, but of his temperament as
well. Delacroix was of the Romantic school in painting, but in
literature his style was Classic. We have all known artists who were
revolutionaries in their own sphere, but conservative and behind the
times in their opinions about other branches of art. The double gift of
poetry and music is in M. d'Indy up to a certain point. But is his
reason always in agreement with his heart?[163]

[Footnote 163: In his criticisms his heart is not always in agreement
with his mind. His mind denounces the Renaissance, but his instinct
obliges him to appreciate the great Florentine painters of the
Renaissance and the musicians of the sixteenth century. He only gets out
of the difficulty by the most extraordinary compromises, by saying that
Ghirlandajo and Filippo Lippi were Gothic, or by stating that the
Renaissance in music did not begin till the seventeenth century! (_Cours
de Composition_, pp. 214 and 216.)]

Of course his nature is too dignified to let the quarrel be shown
openly. His heart obeys the commands of his reason, or compromises with
it, and by seeming respectful of authority saves appearances. His
reason, represented here by the poet, likes simple, realistic, and
relevant action,