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"Why is it
that Poetry has never yet been subjected to that process
of Dilution which has proved so advantageous to her
sister-art Music? The Diluter gives us first a few notes
of some well-known Air, then a dozen bars of his own,
then a few more notes of the Air, and so on alternately:
thus saving the listener, if not from all risk of
recognising the melody at all, at least from the too-
exciting transports which it might produce in a more
concentrated form. The process is termed "setting" by
Composers, and any one, that has ever experienced the
emotion of being unexpectedly set down in a heap of
mortar, will recognise the truthfulness of this happy
phrase.
For truly, just as the genuine Epicure lingers lovingly
over a morsel of supreme Venison - whose every fibre
seems to murmur "Excelsior!" - yet swallows, ere
returning to the toothsome dainty, great mouthfuls of
oatmeal-porridge and winkles: and just as the perfect
Connoisseur in Claret permits himself but one delicate
sip, and then tosses off a pint or more of
boarding-school beer: so also -
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