The titles throughout all his music are original. Some are easily understood. ‘The Wind’ and the ‘Railroad’ for instance are fully explained by the music. In fact the realism of the latter does not stop with movement. There is to be heard even the pounding of wheels, the puffing and the whistle of the engine. But what is the meaning of others, of _Neige et lave_, _Ma chère liberté_ and _Ma chère servitude_, _Salut, cendre du pauvre_, _Fais dodo_ and _J’étais endormie, mais mon cœur reveillait?_ On the whole these fantastic titles suggest less the union of music with poetry or self-conscious sentiment than a sort of rational, positive realism. There is little in the music that is vague or sensuous. Most of it is objective rather than imaginative. He has neither the fire of Liszt, nor the emotion of Chopin, and his compositions are both spiritually and technically independent of theirs. He was a terrific worker and he lived apart from men. Marmontel wrote of him with great respect and some affection. Oskar Bie thinks of him as a misanthrope. One can hardly speak of misanthropic music; yet the quality which distinguishes Alkan’s music is something the quality of an implacable irony. It is strong stuff, and is likely to prove more logical in itself than any appreciation or disparagement of it can be made. CËSAR FRANCK II But Alkan’s music must be taken as the manifestation of an independent spirit, French in its directness, rather than as a source of stimulation or strength to a further development of a distinctly French school of pianoforte music. Such a school first centres about César Franck, who, though he, too, lived in retirement and in an obscurity which the general public did not attempt to penetrate, exercised a powerful influence on music in Paris. His compositions are relatively few in number. There are but two considerable works for pianoforte alone, and only three more for pianoforte and orchestra. These, however, are of great beauty and two at least are masterpieces in music. These are the ‘Prelude, Chorale and Fugue’ for pianoforte alone, and the _Variations Symphoniques_ for pianoforte and orchestra. The other three, which have elements of greatness but seem to fall short of absolute perfection, are the ‘Prelude, Aria, and Finale’ for pianoforte alone, and two symphonic poems for pianoforte and orchestra suggested by poems of Victor Hugo, _Les Eloïdes_ and _Les Djinns_.