must remember that the section of the public for which the cheaper kinds of reserved seats are intended at the other theatres is practically not considered at all at the opera. The balcony stalls at Covent Garden are, it is true, as comfortable as dress-circle seats elsewhere, but they are issued at precisely double their price. It is impossible to get a really convenient place for less than fifteen shillings, as the glare of the chandelier, even if the lights are turned down during the performance, makes the long entr'actes extremely disagreeable to those who occupy the ten-shilling seats; and even supposing the average amateur of moderate means to be contented with a gallery place, in order that he may see as many operas as possible, he must put up with a great deal of discomfort; while to elderly people, or to those who are busy in the daytime, the necessary early attendance makes unreserved seats an impossibility. Now the opera, as an occasional treat to be enjoyed once or twice in the season, is of very little real use from an educational point of view; yet the educational aspect of the opera is one that should not be ignored. In one of his famous rules for young sicians, Schumann, the one composer who might have been expected to set least store by anything connected with theatrical display, laid it down that the student must 66 never neglect to hear good operas." In England the greater part, and those the best, of musical amateurs are compelled to spend their lives in an assiduous transgression of this injunction; and even the rich subscribers to the opera of the fashionable world can only obey it for a space of three months in the year, or less. In all parts of the continent, the intellectual value of the opera is recognized, just as much as that of non-theatrical music or of the other arts. In England alone there still survives the curious impression that music, and more especially the opera, has some element of dissipation about it. That this impression will some day die down, as we become more cosmopolitan, there is no reason to doubt; and with the gigantic strides which musical culture has taken

mu

in quite recent years, it is certain that before long the nation will insist on having an opera, not as the exclusive enjoyment of the few for ten weeks in the year, but as a permanent institution, affording to the great bulk of educated people proper opportunities for the study and enjoyment of operatic masterpieces; not merely for the contemplation of the latest Paris fashions, whether in millinery or music.

At different times in the history of the Carl Rosa Company it has seemed as if a really national opera were just on the brink of getting itself established, and the energetic manager from which it is named had sufficient foresight to recognize that such an institution must be really national, and that the English tongue must be the vehicle in which music should make its appeal to the English people. Unfortunately, although he and his successors have always had the lower middle classes in their favor, the influence of this section of the public has kept alive certain traditions which sadly hindered the cause of opera in English. English. The silly dialogue of the days of the poet Bunn is still relished by the kind of audience to which English opera is at present supposed to appeal; and any educated person, not especially musical, who should find himself present at a performance of "The Bohemian Girl" or "Maritana," would very naturally wonder at the tolerance of a West-end public toward a style of declamation that would disgrace the transpontine theatres. state of things will account, to his mind, for the widespread impression that English is not a good language for serious operatic purposes. Yet even supposing that operas with spoken dialogue were to come back into fashion again, there is no possible reason why the dialogue should not be given with the same care and precision that Mr. Gilbert insisted on in the early days of the Savoy operas. It is a strange thing, but only one of thing, but only one of many anomalies. beloved by English people that their own language should be considered quite suitable on the one hand to comic operas, and on the other to sacred ora

This

torios, but that for serious dramatic music it is viewed with disdain. Surely a language which is good enough for "The Messiah or "Elijah" cannot be so contemptible that its use in "Faust or "Lohengrin" need be prohibited. After all, in objecting to their own language as a vehicle for serious art, the English are only following the lead of nearly all nations that have gradually emerged from a state of barbarism. It is not a satisfactory reflection, but it is one that must be made, that this preference for foreign languages is the mark of all nations that have not completed their civilization. In the Italian Renaissance, those writers who gave up Latin for Italian were at first thought extremely vulgar by their contemporaries; in Germany, the gallicisms, which have so comic an effect upon modern ears in reading the historical documents of past centuries, were in fashion more or less into the present day. In matters of literature, science, and the graphic arts we have long ago passed the stage in which culture came to.us from without, and so have reached a condition in which we have, in these things, a definite national existence. In music alone a bastard cosmopolitanism prevails among us even now, and has doubtless much to say to the failure of English opera as a permanent and self-supporting institution. The state of London at the present day, in regard to operas, may best be illustrated by an analogy with the non-operatic theatre. Imagine a state of things in which no theatre in London should devote itself to serious drama, the admirers of which were compelled to derive their instruction in the great dramas of the world from an annual visit of ten weeks, arranged by the combined forces of the Théâtre Français and the Meiningen Court Theatre; and that during this short season the prices of seats in all parts of the house should be doubled or more than doubled. Such a condition is incredible in the dramatic world, yet it is precisely analogous to that which we complacently accept in regard to the opera. As the taste for opera improves, deepening in the educated classes, and spreading more and

more widely throughout the nation, there will be more and more clear demands for a regular, continuous, and, in one word, national institution, such as all other capitals of the world. possess. In ordinary affairs the law of supply and demand is a good enough working principle, but here there is one very serious consideration, namely, that the expenses of an opera season, even without the gigantic salaries that are paid to performers of European celebrity, are so heavy as to entail a great loss upon the manager who shall attempt to give opera at theatre prices. The problem has been tried over and over again, both in England and elsewhere, and a very few words are needed to explain why it is impossible. Among the many lessons taught by the lamentable failure of the Royal English Opera House was one which throws a good deal of light on this. It is out of the question to mount grand opera " for a run," that is to say, to attempt to recoup the original outlay in putting it on the stage by keeping it in the bills for six weeks or longer, as the theatrical managers are wont to do. Yet audiences have been so accustomed to seeing plays gorgeously produced that they expect far more from operatic mounting than can possibly be given them apart from operatic prices. In the second place, the salaries of the singers must needs come to a sum far in excess of the earnings of the heaviest cast in London, to say nothing of the orchestra and chorus, two sources of expenditure of which the play-producer is scarcely conscious. By exercising a rigid economy in the department of the orchestra during provincial tours it is no doubt possible to give even grand opera in London for a few weeks at a time at theatre prices, if a large enough theatre is available; but then the company must be formed of singers so fitted for a large theatre that their voices can be trusted to fill it in one sense and their names in another. Such a company is a far more expensive luxury than a troupe of comicopera performers, who are at home in a small theatre, but would be utterly lost in Covent Garden or a house of

similar size. It may be taken as proved, without further demonstration, that an attempt which has reduced some hundreds of enthusiastic managers to beggary must be ranked with the many chimerical schemes of which musical people are so very fond. Yet the solution of the whole question, a solution which has been adopted in every capital of Europe, is only just beginning to be suggested here as a brand-new idea. Some kind of grant or subvention from without is absolutely essential if opera as an institution is to do a really useful work, or to take a place among national enterprises. A great many Englishmen look askance upon any suggestion of a State subsidy for theatres of any kind, partly from a remnant of the puritanical feeling that all such places are in themselves evil, partly because they cannot dissociate the idea of theatrical art from the notion of frivolous amusement, and partly because they dread an increase in the rates. But the general principle of State or municipal aid for various things lying outside the domain of practical business life, is already acknowledged in many ways, and accepted as a fact of our national exist ence. It would require a very bold politician indeed to bring in a Bill for the abolition of the grant to the National Gallery or the British Museum, yet in truth these are not more strictly educational in their intention than such institutions as the great opera houses of the Continent. Even in theatrical matters the idea of municipal aid is slowly but surely making advances toward realization; yet the opera, if it is to exist at all as a permanent institution for the nation at large, stands in far greater need of external help than does any non-operatic theatre. There is a want of logic about a system such as that which allows grants to be made to the two principal institutions for teaching music in London, without practically recognizing the need for kindred help for the young musicians who are being turned out of these seminaries every year into a profession which is rapidly being overstocked beyond all remedy. At present

the demand for the raw material to educate in one or other of the great music schools is a very large one, and every inducement is held out to promising students, but only during their career as students. All the tedious time that must elapse before even a musician with a certainty of ultimate success can begin to make his mark on the great world of London musical life is quite unprovided for; and many are the cases of absolute penury that come to the knowledge of those who are familiar with the seamy sides of the musical profession. Some means might well be devised for hindering, rather than encouraging, the entrance into the profession of all classes of incompetent performers, and at the same time of providing help for those whose education in music is finished, and whose chances of making an income are very remote.

The establishment of a permanent. opera house in London would mean a great deal more than the existence of a single institution where native talent could be allowed to display itself. The principle of decentralization has lately been illustrated in a very striking way by the success which has attended the erection of various theatres in the suburbs of London, and there are signs that the whole aspect of our theatrical life is shortly about to undergo a change. If an endowed opera became an accomplished fact in London, there is little doubt that the example of the capital would soon be followed in the chief cities of the Empire, so that that part of a liberal education which consists in hearing good operas would be brought within the reach of the large majority of English people. A whole group of permanently established operatic theatres would make a very sensible difference in the financial condition of the musical profession generally, and the elevation of the standard of excellence required by the classes thus educated would of itself obviate the danger of a Klondike rush into a profession where such inducements were held out. In ordinary parlance, the position of music as an inferior member of the circle of the arts is curiously

recognized by the English usage of the word "Art," as meaning only the art of painting or sculpture. Music has often been called the Cinderella of the Arts, in reference to her youth as compared with the other members of the family. In England she has for long been the most despised as well as the youngest of the sisterhood, but there are plenty of signs that she will not much longer be contented with her present humble position. She is apparently waiting for the fairy godmother to appear, and give her her opportunity by providing her with a suitable equipage. There is, perhaps, not much competition for the post at present, but there are several quarters from which the kindly support might come. An actual Government subsidy may for the present be too much to hope for, but either the Corporation of London or the London County Council could well afford to earn the gratitude of the cultivated. part of the nation by providing a suitable home for opera, and the funds wherewith London might be placed on an equality with some of the less luxurious of European towns. Recent investigations into the statistics of the subject have shown that for an annual grant of 15,000l. an opera could be maintained in such a way that the public need not pay at a higher rate than for the theatre, while artists of the highest class would be engaged. 5,000l. of this would represent either the rent of a theatre already existing, or interest on the loan of a sum sufficient to build a proper theatre; the sum of 10,000l. would then represent the sum needed to meet the deficit on a season lasting from October to Easter in each year, leaving the height of the season free for the fashionable opera, the success of which need, therefore, not be affected, even though public taste were to make the new undertaking fashionale as well as popular. Now 15,0007. may seem a large sum as the income of a private individual, or as the annual cost of an establishment; but if it is compared with the sums expended by the nation on things of which the practical utility is extremely doubtful, it is a mere nothing. It is not necessary to

face the question of a national opera coming upon the rates, for it is certain that it could be contrived by other means; but if it did come on the rates, it is worth while to point out that a rate of one-tenth of a penny in the pound on the ratable value of London would be enough to raise the sum required. As the Free Library rate is one farthing in the pound, it will be seen that this latter luxury represents just two and a half times the cost of an opera.

Supposing the principle of a subvention, from whatever quarter, to be admitted, there are naturally a good many points to be considered in regard to the policy of the institution, the principles on which it should be managed, and the nature of the ideals which it is desirable to realize. Here there is no lack of examples and warnings to be got from the experience of foreign nations. Unless it be founded on the widest possible basis-a basis of devotion to no particular school, but to all schools of excellence of whatever date and country-the scheme must fail, though never so kindly a fairy godmother were to come down the kitchen chimney. For a time the dictates of fashion must be disregarded; the classical repertory must be kept steadily before the public, rather than the works which come into vogue for a year or two and are then forgotten; the language employed must be English, and the performers, as far as possible, must be chosen from among English artists. There is, of course, a danger of favoritism, and a certain opening for the elements of intrigue which have already wrecked so many hopeful schemes; but if a large enough body were elected or appointed to govern the institution, and if the impresarios and managers were paid servants of the governing body, not persons with interests of their own to serve, there is no reason why a subsidized opera house should not be conducted on principles of absolute rectitude and honesty. The reins of gov ernment must, of course, be in the hands of persons who should represent, not merely the business side of the scheme as a pecuniary speculation, but

the various schools of thought in music. And not only these should have a voice in the control, but the claims of the many arts that are associated with opera must be fairly represented, and nothing must be omitted that can make. for the maintenance of a high standard in all departments. For example, literary skill in the supervision of new librettos, or in the all-important point of providing decent translations of the words of classical foreign operas, must go hand in hand with artistic taste applied to the mounting of the works chosen for representation. And due encouragement must be given to that school of British composers which has now been in existence for the last quarter of a century, and to which the revival of musical culture in this country is mainly due. That series of fine operas which Mr. Carl Rosa was mainly

instrumental in bringing before the English public as the typical work of Englishmen, must be brought once more from the retirement where they have been left by so many managers, and the younger men in the English musical world must be encouraged to undertake the composition of operas by the knowledge that every worthy work will in time be produced at a national theatre. Those who best know the musical life of England in the present day have the most confidence in the powers of these younger men who are only waiting for opportunities which, under the present régime, can never come to them. There is no doubt that Cinderella must soon get her chance; the only question is, Who will be the fairy godmother?-Nineteenth Century.

BALLOONING is not an invention of later times. So far back as 1670 a Jesuit father, Pierre François Lana, published a folio entitled "Nuovo metodo per poter viaggere in aria dentra una barea sostenuta de globbi volante." It contains a curious and interesting engraving of the first rude idea of an air balloon. The inventor sustains his bark in the air by four copper balls, in which a vacuum is formed through the medium of water. Lana does not seem to have carried his idea into practice. His aerial voyage was only on the paper of his folio, but his picture-balloon and pamphlet caused a stir, and from this time the subject appears to have seized upon men's minds, and to accomplish a voyage to the clouds was the cherished dream of many a scientist. But until 1783 no decided success was achieved. In that year two brothers residing in the department of the Ardêche made. a distinct advance upon Lana's idea. The Montgolfiers were rich paper manufacturers, men of thought and scientific research. For years their minds had been absorbed in the fascinating subject of aerial voyages; the object of

as

their lives was to perfect Lana's rude conception and to find some means by which the balloon could ascend aloft and penetrate the vast region of cloudland. To this end they devoted their time and their money. Their experiments were in the direction of finding a gas strong enough to bear the balloon upward. In this they were long unsuccessful. Their first balloon cended by burning a heap of damp straw mixed with wool underneath the machine. The Montgolfiers were aware that these fire balloons touched only the fringe of the great question; they were not satisfied with so partial a success, and sought with all the strength of their intelligence to penetrate farther into what they felt sure hidden in the secrets of science. Their experiments were many and arduous. Finally, in 1782, their efforts were rewarded by the discovery that by rarefying the air and then filling the balloon it rose without any difficulty.

was

This first experiment was tried in a room at Avignon. The balloon was a small one, containing only two cubic metres of air. The trial being success