etters; but
Mendelssohn, it may be remarked, was always rich, and has no such record
of charitable deeds as stands to Wagner's credit. The nearest parallel
to the case of Wagner is that of Beethoven in his old age. He, although
perfectly well off, scared himself almost to death with his dread of
poverty. Wagner's letters written about this time are well worth
reading. There is no need to discuss them; they should be read and
carefully weighed. Nor do I propose to spend any great space on the
prose writings of the period. They are full of theories which were no
sooner formulated than they had to be discarded in practice. At a time
when Wagner was quite thoroughly misunderstood, the notion--perhaps
naturally--became prevalent that he was simply completing a work
commenced by Gluck. Now, no two men ever had more widely different aims
than Wagner and Gluck. True, both wrote for the theatre, both employed
singers and orchestra; and there the likenesses terminate. Gluck never
sought to change the musical forms in use in opera. He retained the old
recitatives, airs, concerted numbers, and choruses; not Handel himself
clung more firmly to the old forms and formalities than Gluck did in
_Orpheus_ and _Iphigenia_. He sought, in the first place, to substitute
worthy and dignified subjects for the ancient frivolities which had
inspired composers since opera became popular; he wanted those subjects
treated in a sufficiently dignified way, and, above all, in a reasonable
way; he resolved that his music should be worthy of the drama. No
concessions were to be made to the prima donna or vain tenor: the music
had to be dramatically appropriate. He got magnificent results; and when
the leaven of Wagnerism has ceased to work and froth and bubble in the
public brain--in a word, when Wagner's music is no longer mere exciting
new wine, and we are as accustomed to it as we are to the music of
Beethoven--then we shall turn back to Gluck (and also to Mozart) and
find them as young and fresh as ever.

Wagner's aim was totally different. First, music, he held, was played
out: one must have the spoken word with it. He went to the myth for
subjects, and gave plentiful reasons, which need not detain us, for the
choice. Then--and here the effect of his early association with the
theatre shows itself--the music was in nowise to hinder the actor;
therefore all formal set numbers must be discarded and replaced by his
"speech-singing" expressive recitati