'Lucia di Lammermoor,' or in purity of harmonious concord, as in 'Il Matrimonio Segreto.' Wagner's strict adherence to Dramatic Truth distinguishes his writings from those of all other Composers of the present day. He declares himself ready to sacrifice all less important considerations for its sake, and proves his loyalty by continually doing so. No one will venture to assert that the value of his own works, strengthened as they are by his conscientious adherence to a noble principle, is materially diminished by a heterodox resolution, or an occasional exhibition of harshness in the harmony of an orchestral accompaniment; but, should his School, as a School, encourage the use of progressions which can be defended upon no natural principle whatever, we may be sure that no long time will be suffered to elapse before it is pushed aside, to make room for the creations of a Twenty-first Period.
That such a period must dawn upon us sooner or later is, of course, inevitable. Progress—even though it 'progress backwards'—is an essential condition of Art; and we cannot suppose that any exception will be made to the general law in the present instance. This being the case, it may not, perhaps, be altogether unprofitable to consider, as closely as circumstances will permit, the probable character of the Future which lies before us, more especially with regard to the influence which Wagner's works and teachings are likely to exercise upon it.
We are not left wholly without such data as may enable us to form an opinion on certain points connected with this very important subject: and, first, we may state our belief that it is simply impossible for such works as 'Der fliegende Holländer,' or 'Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg,' to be forgotten, twenty years hence. It seems much more probable that they, and 'Tannhäuser,' and 'Lohengrin,' and perhaps also 'Tristan und Isolde,' will be better understood, and more frequently performed, than they are at present. But, what about the Tetralogy? Does there seem a reasonable hope that that, too, may live? The probable longevity of a Work of Art may be pretty accurately measured by the nobility of its conception. 'Die Zauberflöte' is as young, to-day, as it was on the evening when it first saw the light: 'Der Dorfbarbier ' is not. Now it is an universally received axiom, that, of two Works of Art, both equally true to Nature, that in which the greatest effect is produced by the least expenditure of means will prove to be the noblest. The greatest Operas we have are placed upon the Stage with wonderfully little expense. For the worthy representation of 'Fidelio,' we need only some half-dozen principal Singers, a Chorus, an ordinary Orchestra, and a couple of Scenes such as the smallest provincial theatre could provide at a few hours' notice. For 'Der Freischütz,' we only need, in addition to this, a few special 'properties,' and a pound or two of 'red fire.' But, in order that 'Der Ring des Nibelungen' might be fitly represented, it was found necessary to build a new Theatre; to construct an Orchestra, upon principles hitherto untried, and to fill it with a matchless company of Instrumentalists representing the most brilliant talent in Europe; to enrich the mise en scène with Waves, Clouds, Mists, Flames, Vapours, a Dragon—made in London, and sent to Bayreuth in charge of a special messenger—and other accessories which put the stabled Horses and led Elephants of 'Berenice,' and the SingingBirds of 'Rinaldo,' to shame; and, regardless of expense, to press into the service of the new School all the aids that modern science could contribute or modern ingenuity invent. Surely this is a great sign of weakness. There must be something wanting in a Drama which needs these gorgeous accompaniments to make it attractive; and it is difficult to believe that such a display will ever again be attempted, except under the immediate superintendence of the author of the piece. But, supposing the 'Tetralogy' should be banished from the Stage, from sheer inability to fulfil the necessary conditions of its production, will the principles upon which it is composed be banished with it? Is it not possible that Wagner's teaching may live, even though some of the grandest of his own individual conceptions should be forgotten? Undoubtedly it will live, in so far as it is founded upon purely natural principles. We have already spoken of his intense reverence for dramatic truth. He cannot have taught us the necessity for this in vain. It is absolutely certain, that, in this particular, he will leave a marked impression for good upon the coming generation. Whether or not he has carried his theories too far for successful practice is another question. His disciples say that he has not: and are so firmly convinced of the truth of their position that they will not even hear an argument to the contrary. Nevertheless, there are many, who, despite their unfeigned admiration for his undoubted talent, believe that the symmetrical forms he has so sternly banished might have been, and still may be, turned to good account, without any real hindrance to dramatic action: and many more there are who doubt whether the old Florentine Ideal, reinforced by all that modern improvement can do for it, can ever be made to take the place of that which Mozart so richly glorified, and from which even Beethoven and Weber only differed in individual treatment. The decision of these questions must be left for the future. At present, 'Non più andrai' and 'Madamina' still hold their ground, and may possibly win the day, after all.
In close, and not very encouraging connection with this subject, there still remains another question, which we would willingly have passed over in silence, had it been possible: but, having entered upon our enquiry, we must pursue it to the end. We may be sure that Wagner's most enthusiastic supporters will attempt to carry out his views very much farther than he has carried them himself. Will they also think it desirable to imitate his style? It is to be hoped not. It would take a long day to tire us of Wagner—
