empire. They are no longer pioneers, for the musical trails have long since been blazed through Germany; they are husbandmen, rather, who must continue to sow new seed as each successive crop is harvested.

Coming to the very highest grades of subsidized musical teaching in the fatherland, the Konigliche Hochschule fur Musik is by far the most splendid and influential example. This world-famous institution, established by the government in 1869 as a part of the Royal Academy at Berlin, and under the direction of Joachim, the greatest violinist his country, at least, ever produced, has been one of the notable conservatories of the world and is still in the full tide of success. Spite of governmental aid it has always been thoroughly independent. Joachim himself fought the first and deciding battle for autonomy when, very early in his career as director, he entered the lists against an officious Cultusminister who attempted to discharge one of his appointees on the faculty. The sturdy fiddler sent in his resignation to the king, but it was not accepted; instead, the official was squelched and the liberty of the Hochschule established for all time.

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This renowned conservatory is broadly inclusive in its curriculum. classes for every sort of orchestral instruments, for singing, for choral work and for all the various branches that any reasonable music student might care to take up. Better than anything else, there is an atmosphere of greatness in the place—or was so long as Joachim was alive-that has produced wonderful results in fields where the private conservatories are usually pre-eminent. It has grown and prospered according to its deserts. Whereas it opened in 1869 with only fifteen pupils, it had by 1890 over two hundred and fifty. This number is somewhat exceeded at the present day, although the government subsidy is very rigidly fixed and expansion is a pretty difficult feat. So it appears that even the nation most willing to aid the cause of the exalted kinds of music does not do its full duty, by any means. Some day when the United States and our individual States awake to the importance of the esthetic as well as the vegetable, as they surely will, we shall show all of the ancient folk of the earth how to do these things with an unstinting hand.

Within its limits, however-limits of quantity rather than of quality-the Berlin Hochschule fur Musik has been a boon both to German students and those of other countries who flock to the capital of the German Empire for their musical training. Its concerts have held high rank of their class, and Joachim was always an inspiration both to the public and to his pupils. He threw his whole enthusiastic soul into the work and to such an extraordinary extent of conscientiousness that he never gave a private lesson in Berlin so long as he was connected with the conservatory, although tempted by the promise of fees that would have shattered the determination of a weaker man. On he went serenely, though, turning out artists who did him honor in every quarter of the globe. Among Americans, Eleonora Jackson and Maud Powell, the greatest woman violinist now living, came from the Joachim school, while the list of European virtuosi is too long to be catalogued in these pages.

If the racing of thoroughbreds is the sport of kings, grand opera in Germany may well be called the recreation of emperors and princes. It has all the elements of appeal to monarchical love of show and the desire to be a patron of something that fills the eye with its gorgeousness. So, as I have observed before, we find opera getting

the cream from the various privy purses of Teutonic kingdoms, duchies and principalities. It is sometimes pointed out by those who argue against a subsidized opera that potentates themselves furnish the financial assistance for all the more important opera houses of the empire. That is true so far as it goes, but it should also be added that it is often only a pretty little fiction gilded over for the personal pride of those who reign. The money appears not to come from direct taxation of the citizens of states or municipalities, but as a matter of fact it is very rarely a part of the private fortune of the donor, and is quite often taken into account in making up budgets for the ruler's privy purse and voted upon by legislative assemblies of the various sorts. It is perfectly proper, therefore, to say that, with a few exceptions, the people themselves ultimately furnish whatever financial assistance is given to German opera houses.

Subsidized homes of grand opera may be divided into three classes: Court, national and municipal. They differ merely in methods of support and in grades of magnificence, whether of appointments or performances.

The court opera house, defined strictly, is the sport and plaything of the potentate. Being erected and supported by his private funds, it is his alone to do with as he likes. He may charge enormous prices of admission or he may throw his auditorium open to the world at no price at all. He may fill it with the pomp and circumstance of an audience of the great or he may listen, solitary in his own grandeur, to performances of supreme perfection as did mad Ludwig of Bavaria in the days when he, and he alone, saved the fortunes of Richard Wagner. But this class is now so small as to be beyond the pale of discussion, particularly as there is no useful lesson to be gleaned from the methods of its administration. It should be noted that most of "court" opera houses, so called, in the great cities of Germany bear the name merely as a title, or as signifying some assistance on the part of the ruler, but not complete support by him.

And

The next class, or national opera houses, are conducted along somewhat similar lines of administration to the first, except that the national exchequer takes the place of the privy purse as the real means of subsistence. The ruler may and often does contribute, but the burden lies more especially on the state. This expenditure is justified where any justification is called for-and there are Germans who do not always approve on the ground that it is a part of the great work of art and education. so opera really is in that land of serious striving. There it is no mere society function at which it is "the thing" to be seen. To be sure, it is not taken as a rather badtasting dose of educational medicine, but on the other hand it is not regarded solely as a syllabub. The state and those who constitute it, therefore, believe that it is right and fitting to give some of the public moneys for such a purpose. These national opera houses are, practically without exception, handsome and dignified buildings, because it is the German notion that they be taken as a type of the power and wealth of the state. That same feeling is exhibited in this country in the erection of expensive and elaborate capitols.

The third sort the municipal opera houses are perhaps the most remarkable examples of the German spirit as related to the fine arts. even those of relatively small population, and they are support becomes necessary, by the municipal governments.

They exist in many cities, supported absolutely, when They are intended for the

education and recreation of the great average people, low prices of admission enabling all classes of citizens to enjoy the benefits thereof. Students are still further favored, and at Leipzig, for instance, seats in the parterre at the opera cost them only one mark, fifty pfennigs, or about thirty-five cents in our money. In that same Leipzig they

are able for a little over three marks to procure season tickets to the Abends, or public practice evenings of the Royal Conservatorium, while for fifty pfennigs (about eleven cents) they can get admission to the Prufungs, the public examinations of the institution. The result of all this is that whole families flock to the opera and to concerts of superlatively fine music, and are not compelled to feel that they must live upon bread and water for the next month or two as the penalty for their pleasure.

Everywhere the municipal orchestra is in evidence, and everywhere it is regarded of as much importance in the lives of the people as, say, tram-cars or pavings. In Hamburg a great orchestra gives, in addition to its regular concerts, five popular ones each season, the admission to which is obtained for fifteen cents. Any hard-headed Yankee may well reason that this sort of thing does not pay. True, but the municipal corporation takes care of that and grants $5000 a year for the Utopian purpose of giving its citizens good music at a price scarcely larger than that charged by the most hopelessly vulgar of our dime museums. It is only just to say that our own city of Boston for one season did the same thing and did it very creditably, but the ogre of economy quickly ate up the excellent municipal orchestra, and now threatens to eat up the still existent chamber concerts because, forsooth, it is believed that the "people" better love band concerts in the open air of summer, so that all the money available should be used for the exploitation of "The Merry Widow," or the song in honor of the gentleman who was afraid to go home in the dark.

But with true Teutonic obstinacy the authorities of the German cities still continue in their reckless ways. Cologne is an example. There the town orchestra plays at the opera and at a certain number of concerts in Cologne and Bonn. The prices for seats are very low. At the end of each season a balance-sheet is made out and the corporation pays the deficiency, which very often amounts to $3000 or more. In Frankfort the municipal orchestra gives weekly concerts at moderate charges and assists at the opera when needed. To the opera and to the concerts the corporation gives $50,000 a year, and is glad to do it. the deficiencies of popular concerts, not very respectable sum of $5000 a year. noted, is going into bankruptcy, and it is governed than any municipality in the United States.

Even in little Mayence the municipality pays seldom handing over to the cause of art the None of these cities, it should be carefully safe to say that every one of them is better

To their Emperor-king the people of Prussia owe more for the exalted state of opera than to any other living man. It used to be the fashion to jeer a little at the artistic aspirations of the strenuous "War Lord," but times have changed. The Kaiser has shown that he can be an effective and generous patron of the finer things of life as thoroughly as a stickler for military pomp and power. Those who believed that he was a poseur in his professions of devotion to music, in particular, have been compelled to admit that the pose has been of the very practical sort, the sort that is based upon the foundation of pecuniary assistance. Beside that, the Kaiser is deeply and energetically interested in the details of management of the opera houses he carries on

and, whatever his tendencies may be whether reactionary and commonplace or truly artistic and progressive he does his work for the real love of it and with all his characteristic vigor.

I find it little known outside Germany that the august William practically supports four opera houses in various parts of the kingdom of Prussia, those at Berlin, Wiesbaden, Hanover and Cassel. And all these are absolutely under his control and direction when he chooses, although he selects a general intendant who has immediate charge of the group.

Yet so firm is the imperial hold on the situation that all contracts must be signed by him and many other details attended to personally. The world has long known, of course, that the Kaiser is a prodigious worker; it has not realized, apparently, that he carries the burden of four opera houses on his shoulders.

The Royal Opera in Berlin is the Emperor's chief pride and glory. It has age as well as splendor, for it was founded in 1741 by that stanch old devotee of the best music of his day (his flute playing may be forgiven him), Frederick the Great. On his order the celebrated architect Knobelsdorf planned and erected the building, and it was opened in 1742 with a performance of Graun's "Caesar and Cleopatra,” and with "the composer leading the orchestra in a long red cloak and white periwig.' In those halcyon days the public was admitted free to the upper balconies, the king and his military notables being seated directly behind the orchestra, while the secretaries of state and the various court hangers-on were privileged to fill the first and second tiers. In 1845 the venerable pile was partially burned down, but was at once rebuilt, after the same plans, by Langhans. The ornaments, however, were all replaced by new ones from designs of Rietschel and the ceiling was beautifully decorated in stucco and colors. Its auditorium and lobbies still remain among the most artistic and pleasing in Europe, but its exterior has been made somewhat unsightly in recent years by the application of iron fire-escapes.

It is to this institution, then, that Kaiser Wilhelm devotes his chief musical and executive energies. From his privy purse he grants to it every year the sum of one million marks, and when there is a deficit, as there generally is, he makes that up also. He is, in this case, actually and privately out of pocket every year, for it may be stated on the authority of Dr. Karl Muck, for the past two years conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra and one of the conductors of the Royal Opera itself, that the amount voted indirectly for the purpose by the Prussian Diet is never sufficient to pay the expenses of the four imperial houses. The Berlin opera house, for instance, is too small, seating but eighteen hundred, and although for ten months in the year there is a performance every evening and the places are always completely sold, neither the receipts nor the added subsidy can pay the expenses of the institution. The official staff is enormous-one of the few faults at all European opera houses; the orchestra is made up of the highest priced artists and the maintenance of the house, merely on its art side, calls for large outlays of money.

In addition to his expenditures in Berlin the Kaiser gives five hundred thousand marks to opera at Wiesbaden, two hundred and fifty thousand to Hanover and about the same amount to Cassel. He also assists many other theatres, including those at Strasburg, Metz and Kiel. It has been said that he is anxious to rival the reputation

of his august exemplar, Frederick, as a patron of the esthetic things of life; certainly a man who makes possible what are in many respects the most artistic performances of opera on the continent may fairly be given a rather exalted place in this particular hall of fame.

Beautiful Dresden also furnishes an admirable object lesson in the management and support of subsidized opera. There the King of Saxony gives for the two theatres, one of them the court opera house, the sum of $220,000 annually. But the management is so wise and conservative on general principles, that it is usually able to put by a small reserve fund each year, sometimes amounting to as much as $10,000. This is the one opera house in whose conduct I have been able to discover such a satisfactory state of affairs. It shows truly that such noble and artistic performances as are given at Dresden need not necessarily spell financial losses or extravagances. To the assistance mentioned is added the loan of the Royal Orchestra, supplied by the king, whose special hobby this admirable body of players still continues to be.

The original court opera house in Dresden was built some seventy years ago, but was burned in 1869. The famous Semper designed the old structure and it is a remarkable fact that he also erected the new, with the aid of his son. Originally the sum of $395,000 was granted for the rebuilding by the government of Saxony, soon after increased to $575,000, as it became evident that Semper's exquisite plans could not be put into effect for less money. Then came the costly Franco-Prussian War, with its train of higher prices, and much more money was needed, so that the total cost reached $1,150,000. The foundations were laid in 1871 and the first performance was given in 1878.

Dresden is a very typical opera-going city of Germany. There everybody attends such performances, not only because of the spirit that impels them to do so, but because the prices charged for admission and for seats will permit. In the lovely opera house of perhaps the most charming city in Europe, there foregather, almost nightly, music lovers of high and low degree; of fat purses and thin; of exalted rank and humble station. No special dress is prescribed and no special lines of behavior are marked out, save that absolute quiet and promptness are the requisites par excellence.

The opera begins either at six or seven-thirty, depending upon the length of the work to be produced, but never later than the last-named hour. The nuisance of late comers is absolutely eliminated in this opera house. If the orchestra has begun to play, all must wait until the overture is over. If an act has commenced, no society disturbers can come swishing and chattering down the aisles to ruin the pleasure of the serious lovers of music drama.

An American girl who has written on student life in Dresden says of the Dresden opera house: "A few guards stand at the entrances to keep them free from loungers. Any unchaperoned girl can go to the opera in Dresden with as much propriety as she can go to church. In looking over the audience you can pick out diplomats, statesmen, soldiers, students, tradesmen and your washfrau. In the fourth gallery, where the music is best heard and the prices of seats vary from fifty cents down to fifteen, you will see first a gaily uniformed officer, whose small salary will not permit him to be further down. Sitting next to him is an old market woman, and next to her a thin, spectacled student who looks as if he had gone without his supper to be there.