form of entertainment scarcely came
within the province of art, but it served as a starting-point for the
history of opera comique, which was afterwards so brilliant. The success
of the Italian company which performed the comic operas of Pergolesi,
Jomelli, and others, fired the French composers to emulation, and in
1753 the first French opera comique, in the strict sense of the word,
'Le Devin du Village,' by the great Rousseau, was performed at the
Academie de Musique. Musically the work is feeble and characterless, but
the contrast which it offered to the stiff and serious works of the
tragic composers made it popular. Whatever its faults may be, it is
simple and natural, and its tender little melodies fell pleasantly upon
ears too well accustomed to the pomposities of Rameau and his school. At
first lovers of opera comique in Paris had to subsist chiefly upon
translations from the Italian; but in 1755 'Ninette a la Cour,' a dainty
little work written by a Neapolitan composer, Duni, to a French
libretto, gained a great success. Soon afterwards, Monsigny, a composer
who may well be called the father of opera comique, produced his first
work, and started upon a career of success which extended into the next
century.
The early days of opera comique in Paris were distracted by the jealousy
existing between the French and Italian schools, but in 1762 peace was
made between the rival factions, and by process of fusion the two became
one. With the opening of the new Theatre de l'Opera Comique--the Salle
Favart, as it was then called--there began a new and brilliant period
for the history of French art. It is a significant fact, and one which
goes far to prove how closely the foundation of opera comique was
connected with a revolt against the boredom of grand opera, that the
most successful composers in the new _genre_ were those who were
actually innocent of any musical training whatsoever. Monsigny
(1729-1817) is a particularly striking instance of natural genius
triumphing in spite of a defective education. Nothing can exceed the
thinness and poverty of his scores, or their lack of all real musical
interest; yet, by the sureness of his natural instinct for the stage, he
succeeded in writing music which still moves us as much by its brilliant
gaiety as by its tender pathos. 'Le Deserteur,' his most famous work, is
a touching little story of a soldier who deserts in a fit of jealousy,
and is condemned to be shot, but is sa
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