EICEAED WAGXER. 



143 



Nature, and babbling eternal verities without 

 knowing it. Legend was the rough ore — the 

 plastic element he could seize and remould, as 

 JSschylus remoulded Prometheus, or Sophocles 

 CEdipus, adding philosophic analysis and the 

 rich adornments of poetic fancy and artistic 

 form. 



The legend of Tannhiiuser now engrossed him. 

 The drama was soon conceived and written. There 

 he summed up, in a few glowing scenes, the op- 

 position between that burst of free, sensuous life 

 at the Renaissance, and the hard, narrow ideal of 

 papal Christianity. Christ not only crowned with 

 thorns, but turned into stone, is all the answer 

 that Christianity had to give to that stormy im- 

 pulse which at last poured its long-peut-up tor- 

 rent over Europe. The deep revolt still stares 

 us in the face from the Italian canvases as we 

 look at the sensuous figures of Raphael or Titian 

 — the free types of fair, breathing life, surrounded 

 with the hard aureole of the artificial saint, or 

 limned as in mockery, like the dreams of a pagan 

 world upon the walls of the Vatican. 



Tannhiiuser a Thuringian knight, taking ref- 

 uge with Venus, no longer the beneficent Holda, 

 joy of gods and men, but turned by the excesses 

 of the ascetic spirit into a malign witch, and ban- 

 ished to the bowels of the earth in the Venus- 

 berg — Tannhiiuser, with a touch eternally true to 

 Nature, bursting the fetters of an unruly, sensual 

 life, and sighing for a healthier activity ; Tann- 

 hiiuser, seeing for a moment only, in the pure 

 love of Elizabeth, the reconciliation of the senses 

 with the spirit, a reconciliation made forever im- 

 possible by the stupid bigotry of a false form of 

 religion, but which is ultimately sealed and ac- 

 complished by love and death in heaven — this is 

 the human and sublime parable of the drama, 

 wrought out with the fervor of a religious dev- 

 otee, and epitomized in that prodigious over- 

 ture wherein the dirge of the Church mingles 

 with the free and impassioned song of the min- 

 strel knight, and clashes wildly with the voluptu- 

 ous echoes of the fatal Venusberg. 



Wagner's progress was now checked by that 

 storm of invective which burst out all over Ger- 

 many—not on account of " Rienzi," but incon- 

 sequence of " The Flying Dutchman," and espe- 

 cially of " Tannhiiuser." The reason is simple. 

 The power of " Rienzi," the audacity of its senti- 

 ment, the simplicity of its outline, and the real- 

 ism of its mise en scene, together with a-general 

 respect for the old opera forms, insured it a hear- 

 ing which resulted in a real triumph. But in 

 " Tannhiiuser " the new path was alreadv struck 



out, which singers, band, audience, critics, and 

 composers, in a body, refused to tread ; in short, 

 aria, recitative, and ballet, were dethroned, and 

 suddenly found themselves servants where they 

 had been masters. 



In 1843 " The Flying Dutchman" was pro- 

 duced at Dresden, and failed. " Rienzi " was 

 still revived with success. Wagner now sent 

 the " Dutchman " and " Tannhiiuser " to various 

 theatres. The former was tried at Berlin in 

 1844, and failed. Spohr had the intelligence to 

 take it up at Casscl, and wrote a friendly and ap- 

 preciative letter to Wagner, but the MS. scores 

 were, as a rule, returned by the other theatres, 

 and the new operas seemed to react on the ear- 

 lier success, for at Hamburg " Rienzi " failed. 



Meanwhile, failure, together with the close 

 sympathy of a few devoted friends, convincing 

 him that he was more right than ever, Wagner 

 now threw himself into the completion of that 

 work which is, perhaps, on the whole, his most 

 perfect, as it certainly is his most popular crea- 

 tion, " Lohengrin." The superb acting and sing- 

 ing of Mesdemoiselles Titiens, Nilsson, and Ai- 

 bani, will be fresh in the minds of many readers. 

 The choruses in England have never yet been up 

 to the mark, but the band under Sir Michael Cos- 

 ta, at its best, renders the wondrous prelude to 

 perfection. 



The whole of " Lohengrin " is in that prelude. 

 The descent of the Knight of the Swan from the 

 jasper shrines of the sacred palace of Montsalvat, 

 hidden away in a distant forest-land ; his holy 

 mission to rescue Elsa from her false accusers ; 

 his high and chivalric love ; his dignified trouble 

 at being urged by her to reveal his name, that 

 insatiable feminine curiosity which wrecks the 

 whole ; the darker scenes of treachery by which 

 Elsa is goaded to press her fatal inquiry ; the 

 magnificent climax of the first act ; the sense of 

 weird mystery that hangs about the appearance 

 and reappearance of the swan, and the final de- 

 parture of the glittering Knight of the Sangraal ; 

 allegory of heavenly devotion stooping to lift up 

 human love, and dashed with earth's bitterness 

 in the attempt : to those who understand the 

 pathos, delicacy, and full intensity of the "Lo- 

 hengrin " prelude, this and more will become as 

 vivid as life and emotion can make it. "Lohen- 

 grin," in its elevation, alike in its pain, its sacri- 

 fice, and its peace, is the necessary reaction from 

 that wreck of sensual passion and religious de- 

 spair so vividly grasped in the scenes of the 

 Venusberg, in the pilgrim chant, and the wayside 

 crucifix of " Tannhiiuser." 



