oolish and
superfluous.

This is the sole flaw in a very fine opera book. _Tannhaeuser_ is the
noblest expression in music of the glory and worth of human life. An
assertion of the glory and worth of human life is bound to be, as
_Tannhaeuser_ is, tragic; life and the value of life can only be
realized when we see life in conflict with death and overcome by
death. All the great tragedies are assertions of the joy of living, in
the deepest sense of the phrase--in the sense in which _Samson
Agonistes_ or Handel's _Samson_ are such assertions. Tannhaeuser
suffers defeat and is glorious, like Samson in his overthrow. Even
Elisabeth, a trifle mawkish though she may be, has loved life, and
only at the finish, when fate (or, as she would say, heaven) decides
against her, does she resign herself and renounce what cannot be hers.
This is the first of Wagner's operas the plot of which is virtually
all his own; for precisely the combination of the legend of Tannhaeuser
with the Tournament of Song makes it what it is and was--Wagner's
invention. All the stale old devices of explanatory asides are gone,
as are the convenient goings-off and comings-on of the _dramatis
personae_ at the sweet will of the composer who wants here a duet and a
trio there. The drama is self-explanatory--the librettist does not
shove on a character to explain it for him; as it unfolds, the
musician is given ample opportunities for all the songs or concerted
pieces that the heart of composer could long for--he has not by main
force and at all costs (in the way of unreasonableness) to drive
opportunities into the drama.

III

In 1842 Wagner finished first _Rienzi_ and then the _Dutchman_; in
April of 1845, that is to say three years later, _Tannhaeuser_ was
complete, and in October of that year it was produced at Dresden. Its
success or non-success with the public and those strange animals the
critics does not greatly concern us to-day. Wagner's own account of
the proceedings is not very trustworthy. The opera was cut and
doctored to suit the singers--notably Tichatscheck; the first
performance seems to have missed fire, and at the second the house was
empty; at the third it was full; and, but for the intrigues of some
of the musicians and scribblers, and the insanity of the management,
it appears probable--one has a right to use so moderate a word--that
before long it might have won in Dresden the success it presently won
throughout Europe. That, I sa