NOTES

New Zealand Tablet, 24 February 1921, Page 26

NOTES

German and Italian Music It used to be a sign of taste to ridicule Verdi and to extol Wagner until one fine day we discovered that the Hun was not our cousin German after all ;, then we found out that Wagner was a braying ox and that no man of common sense would pretend that he had an interest in Brautmarschs or in TJebestods. And, .no doubt, some fine day, when we have fallen out with Italy and made friends with our ; cousins once more,

we shall pretend that we could never listen to 11 Trovatore or to Nabuco without danger of getting a fit. And such in the main is the way of musical critics. We confess that we always considered that we were too deficient in musical training or in taste or whatever else you like to call it to appreciate a Wagner opera as some people used to say they did; but we had never a doubt at all that we loved Verdi and that Ai Nostri Monti or Va Pensiero stirred us somewhat in the same ineffable way as we are stirred by the sounds and scents of a wood in summer days. And, yet, it is likely that the average man or woman who has heard Tristan, patiently and bewilderingly, will find that in after years an impression of its beauty and grandeur lingers in his or her memory much as the memory of a mountain, or the general impression made by a poem like Paradise Lost will linger.

A Critical Dialogue Here is a humorous dialogue in which we may find the views of ordinary mortals on the subject of Italian versus German music expressed cleverly: “ ■' Have you ever thought,’ I said to Emmeline, ' how infinitely superior the music of Wagner is to that of any other composer, in its immunity to influenza ? The German Empire, y6u know, has a moist climate, and the magician of Bayreuth recognised that he must write primarily for a nation that is extremely subject to a cold in the head. It was different with the Italian composers. Bronchial troubles are comparatively unknown in Italy. When Verdi wrote, he failed to make allowance for a sudden attack of the grippe. That is why when Caruso catches a cold they must change the bill at the Metropolitan. But if a Wagnerian tenor loses his voice, the papers say the next morning, “Herr Donner sang with extraordinary intelligence; sometimes he sings with marvellous histrionic power; sometimes he sings with an earnest vigor amounting to frenzy. Wagner, who foresaw everything,, foresaw the effects of steam-heated rooms on the delicate organs of the throat. So he developed a music form in which the use of the throat is not always essential.” ’ ”

" ' I know,' said Emmeline, ' that you'd much rather listen to the la-la, la-la-la-la-lah from Traviata.'

" ' I'd much rather listen to Traviata,' I said, losing my temper, than strive painfully to be electrified by the " Ho-yo-to-ho" of eight Valkyrie maidens averaging one hundred and seventy-five pounds and leaping from crag to crag at a speed of two miles an hour.'

" ' Of course,' said Emmeline, ' I can see why you should be attracted by the Italian ling-a-ling stuff. It's the result of your journalistic training. It's the most superficial business there is. Everything in a newspaper must be obvious at the first glance, and there's nothing like a jingle to catch the crowd. After a while a man gets like the people he writes for.' " The author of this and much more of a similar sort is Simeon Strunsky, Literary Editor of the New York Evening Post. He has put his interpretations of America life in a little book called Post Impressions. He is a genial philosopher with a sense of humor akin to that of the renowned Archey Road philosopher who is known to us all as Mr. Dooley. Post Impressions does not pretend to be a learned work, and, like Mr. Jerome, the author would probably confess that he did not aim at elevating even a cow. Nevertheless you will find many a book which will waste time far less usefully than this unpretentious volume by a writer of whom we are certain to hear more. There is a wholesome sanity about writers like Stephen Leacock, tlie author of Mr. Dooley, and Mr. Strunsky.

Patience Patience is the armor ,of a strong soul. Around a man of constant mind vexations, trials, disappointments rage in vain: their assaults never reach . the inner citadel. He who has patience has a jewel above price and a sure bulwark to defend his peace of . mind, that gift which is dearer than all earthly treasures. In a note to one of Fenelon’s Fables we find a few

striking sentences collected by a studious commentator. Vauvenargues says that "patience is the art of hoping” Curnillon, that it is "the whole secret of living well”; and according to the Duke of Marlborough, it "is capable of, overcoming every difficulty.” On the other hand, impatience is an enemy to interior peace and a source of weakness which the slings and arrows of fortune will inevitably discover. Fenelon says: “Impatience, which seems to be strength and vigor of soul, is in truth want of strength and of power to endure suffering.” With reference to its action on others, Madame de Maintenon writes: “Impatience embitters and alienates hearts, gentleness wins them.’’ If we were all as wise as we ought to be we should all be patient at all times ; if we would but remember ever that our greatest trials are but passing shadows in the day of eternity our peace of mind would rarely be disturbed. There is a useful lesson to be learned from the poet who bids us live as if each day were to be our last: Inter spent cnranifinr, iininrcs niter cf ires Omnern credo diem fibi dduxdse sti pretmnn. Prayer Besides patience God has given to the weak and suffering another powerful shield to defend them from the attacks of enemies and to prevent the sharp weapons of adversity from piercing their hearts. A patient man has the art of hoping, but a man who combines prayer with patience has in him the substance as well as the art of hope. In a noble passage Lacordairo says :

"If there were not somewhere a barrier to resist force, if here below there were nothing but force to oppose against force, the weak and the unfortunate would be lost. God provided for weakness and for misfortune an arm that strikes down the sword, allays anger, blots out wrong, compensates for inequality of condition : He gave them Prayer. Prayer is the queen of the earth. Lowly dressed, with bowed head, hand outstretched, it. protects the universe with its suppliant majesty; it passes incessantly from the heart of the Weak to the heart of the strong, and the greater the depth from which it rises, the higher the throne to which it ascends, the surer its empire. If an insect could pray to us when we are about to tread on it its prayer would move us with an immense compassion: and as there is not anything higher than God there is not any prayer more victorious than that which mounts to Him."

If a German writer described prayer as a fight on bended knees between good and evil, it is a fight that rages round an inner peace which is always born of that justice of which prayer is a testimony. ' The great secret of happiness is to live in peace with oneself: and those who have patience and who depend on prayer need no teacher to explain the secret to them, for it is already theirs.