course has been inaugurated by the Italians. In their dramatic works, Donizetti and Verdi have sought but for effect, theatrical success, and to this end have completely sacrificed dramatic truth. For love of effect, they have trodden upon law, morals, and even reason. The domination of sense over mind is the characteristic feature of their music.
But it is among the French that this style has attained its greatest perfection, and even among the German composers, who, for love of effect, have Frenchified themselves. The most skilful author of scores of operas, Scribe, has offered his pen to these greedy musicians for money, and shows his readiness to sacrifice all to it. Scribe understood the Parisian public for which he worked. He knew its weakness, and he has succeeded in imposing the vitiated taste of that public on the whole civilized world.
In the texts furnished by Scribe, all is intended for scenic effect—all means are employed to reach this end. The requirements of dramatic truth and of morality, even of good sense, are sacrificed to the one end, effect. Frivolous and immodest allusions, which offer gross food to the impure fancy, and necessarily soil the imagination of innocence; doubtful scenes, as, for example, in Fra Diavolo, where a young girl unrobes and goes to bed before the audience; scenes of the bath, as in the Huguenots; scenes of seduction, as in Robert le Diable; political allusions, exaltation of and homage to the revolutionary passions, as in the Muette de Portici; base flattery to the irreligious opinions and prejudices of the day; even, in fine, scenes peculiarly religious, that are put into the piece to produce striking contrasts, and bring out voluptuous scenes better—these are the artistic
means of which these poets and composers have made use to produce effect, and to make money with this effect. Thanks to these industrials of the opera, it happens that in France a new opera has no longer chance of success, if it be not abundantly provided with these means for exciting bad passions.
Now, how is it in Germany? The German good-nature imitates everything of which the French set the example. It allows itself to be deceived, even to the point of finding naïveté where there is nothing but immodesty. It thinks even that it recognizes a religious character in works which do but abuse and vilify religion. The German good-nature imagines that these creators of French art have carried dramatic music to its highest perfection, whilst in reality they are merely skilful workmen, and often something much worse.
If it be denied that our so-called artistic and intelligent public is intoxicated with drinking from the poisoned cup of the French opera, it must be conceded that in Germany there are still many men who know and love art, and who therefore, at the start, do not sacrifice to this musical Baal, but render testimony to the truth with regard to the modern opera. They do not trouble themselves about the shouts and railleries of the crowd, who are unreflecting, and seek in art only sensual enjoyment and pastime.
Permit me here to recall the memory of a generous man, a grand master of the musical art, whom the city of Düsseldorf formerly counted among its citizens—to wit, Mendelssohn-Bartholdy. From the letters he has left, we know that, during his artistic career, he desired earnestly to try his creative power on the opera, but could not succeed because, notwithstanding his multiplied efforts, he
could not find a text to please him. During his sojourn in Paris, his father wrote him to employ Scribe to furnish him a text, to make the composition at Paris, and to have the joint work performed there. This letter of the father betrays a man well versed in business. In his answer, Mendelssohn first speaks of the difficulties which are raised against strangers who wish to represent their works in Paris; then says: “It must be added that, among the French, the principal condition is one to which we must always be opposed, even when the epoch requires us to be ready to make concessions to the taste of the day. This essential condition is immorality. I have no music for that. It is ignoble. If the present age exacts such requirements of the opera, I renounce it for ever. I prefer to compose religious music.”
Honor to the honest man! Honor to the artist who in acting thus honored himself—who refused to gain money and to make himself famous by selling for so base a use the divine gift which God had given him!
As Mendelssohn indicates here, it is particularly Meyerbeer who has devoted himself to this bad style. In his youth, this talented artist had composed several operas which had not been favorably received. He had tried without success in the German school as well as in the Italian. He gave himself up to the mercantile style, and his career was brilliant. Meanwhile, Meyerbeer employed Scribe to write his texts, and these two minds understood each other wonderfully. The one furnished piquant scenes, without regard to the exigencies of reason and morals, and threw in a profusion of seductions for all the passions. He set to work all the wonders of decoration. The other illuminated the whole with seductive music, which