n expressed with such sincerity. Franck is the only
musician besides Bach who has really _seen_ the Christ, and who can make
other people see him too. I would even venture to say that his Christ is
simpler than Bach's; for Bach's thoughts are often led away by the
interest of developing his subject, by certain habits of composition,
and by repetitions and clever devices, which weaken his strength. In
Franck's music we get Christ's speech itself, unadorned and in all its
living force. And in the wonderful harmony between the music and the
sacred words we hear the voice of the world's conscience. I once heard
someone say to Mme. Cosima Wagner that certain passages in _Parsifal_,
particularly the chorus "_Durch Mitleid wissend_," had a quality that
was truly religious and the force of a revelation. But I find a greater
force and a more truly Christian spirit in _Les Beatitudes_.

And here is an astonishing thing. At this German musical festival it was
a Frenchman who represented not only serious music moulded in a
classical form, but a religious spirit and the spirit of the Gospels.
The characters of two nations have been reversed. The Germans have so
changed that they are only able to appreciate this seriousness and
religious faith with difficulty. I watched the audience on this
occasion; they listened politely, a little astonished and bored, as if
to say, "What business has this Frenchman with depth and piety of
soul?"

"There is no doubt," said Henri Lichtenberger, who sat by me at the
concert, "our music is beginning to bore the Germans."

It was only the other day that German music enjoyed the privilege of
boring us in France.

And so, to make up for the austere grandeur of _Les Beatitudes_ they had
it immediately followed by Gustave Charpentier's _Impressions d'Italie_.
You should have seen the relief of the audience. At last they were to
have some French music--as Germans understand it. Charpentier is, of all
living French musicians, the most liked in Germany; he is indeed the
only one who is popular with artists and the general public alike. Shall
I say that the sincere pleasure they take in his orchestration and the
gay life of his subjects is enhanced a little by a slight disdain for
French frivolity--_waelschen Tand_?

"Now listen to that," said Richard Strauss to me during the third
movement of _Impressions d'Italie_; "that is the true music of
Montmartre, the utterance of fine words ... Liberty!... Love!.