the democratic spirit, musical
art--or at least all that counts in musical art--has never been more
aristocratic than it is to-day. Probably the phenomenon is not peculiar
to music, and shows itself more or less in other arts; but in no other
art is it so dangerous, for no other has roots less firmly fixed in the
soil of France. And it is no consolation to tell oneself that this is
according to the great French traditions, which have nearly always been
aristocratic. Traditions, great and small, are menaced to-day; the axe
is ready for them. Whoever wishes to live must adapt himself to the new
conditions of life. The future of art is at stake. To continue as we are
doing is not only to weaken music by condemning it to live in unhealthy
conditions, but also to risk its disappearing sooner or later under the
rising flood of popular misconceptions of music. Let us take warning by
the fact that we have already had to defend music[260] when it was
attacked at some of the parliamentary assemblies; and let us remember
the pitifulness of the defence. We must not let the day come when a
famous speech will be repeated with a slight alteration--"The Republic
has no need of musicians."

[Footnote 260: At any rate, certain forms of music--the highest. See the
discussions at the Chambre des Deputes on the budget of the Beaux-Arts
in February, 1906; and the speeches of MM. Theodore Denis, Beauquier,
and Dujardin-Beaumetz, on Religious Music, the Niedermeyer School, and
the civic value of the organ.]

It is the historian's duty to point out the dangers of the present hour,
and to remind the French musicians who have been satisfied with their
first victory that the future is anything but sure, and that we must
never disarm while we have a common enemy before us, an enemy especially
dangerous in a democracy--mediocrity.

The road that stretches before us is long and difficult. But if we turn
our heads and look back over the way we have come we may take heart.
Which of us does not feel a little glow of pride at the thought of what
has been done in the last thirty years? Here is a town where, before
1870, music had fallen to the most miserable depths, which to-day teems
with concerts and schools of music--a town where one of the first
symphonic schools in Europe has sprung from nothing, a town where an
enthusiastic concert-going public has been formed, possessing among its
members some great critics with broad interests and a fine, free