to
convince a group of recalcitrant listeners of its beauty.

Meyerbeer developed the role of the English horn, which up to that time
had been used only rarely and timidly, and he also introduced the bass
clarinet into the orchestra. But the two instruments, as he used them,
still appeared somewhat unusual. They were objects of luxury, strangers
of distinction which one saluted respectfully and which played no great
part. Under Wagner's management they became a definite part of the
household and, as we know, brought in a wealth of coloring.

It is an open question whether it was Meyerbeer or Scribe who planned
the amazing stage setting in the cathedral scene in _Le Prophete_. It
must have been Meyerbeer, for Scribe was not temperamentally a
revolutionist, and this scene was really revolutionary. The brilliant
procession with its crowd of performers which goes across the stage
through the nave into the choir, constantly keeping its distance from
the audience, is an impressive, realistic and beautiful scene. But
directors who go to great expense for the costumes cannot understand why
the procession should file anywhere except before the footlights as near
the audience as possible, and it is extremely difficult to get any other
method of procedure.

Furthermore, the amusing idea of the skating ballet was due to
Meyerbeer. At the time there was an amusing fellow in Paris who had
invented roller skates and who used to practise his favorite sport on
fine evenings on the large concrete surfaces of the Place de la
Concorde. Meyerbeer saw him and got the idea of the famous ballet. In
the early days of the opera it certainly was charming to see the skaters
come on accompanied by a pretty chorus and a rhythm from the violins
regulated by that of the dancers. But the performance began at seven and
ended at midnight. Now they begin at eight and to gain the hour they had
to accelerate the pace. So the chorus in question was sacrificed. That
was bad for _Les Huguenots_. The author tried to make a good deal out of
the last act with its beautiful choruses in the church--a development of
the Luther chant--and the terror of the approaching massacre. But this
act has been cut, mutilated and made generally unrecognizable. They even
go so far in some of the foreign houses as to suppress it entirely.

I once saw the last act in all its integrity and with six harps
accompanying the famous trio. We shall never see the six harps again,
for G