wishes of those who care nothing whatever about the music they perform.
In connection with every operatic enterprise the question arises of how
to cater for a great class who attend operatic performances for any
other reason rather than that of musical enjoyment, yet without whose
pecuniary support the undertaking must needs fail at once. Nor is it
only in England that the position is difficult. In countries where the
opera enjoys a Government subsidy, the influences that make against true
art are as many and as strong as they are elsewhere. The taste of the
Intendant in a German town, or that of the ladies of his family, may be
on such a level that the public of the town, over the operatic
arrangement of which he presides, may very well be compelled to hear
endless repetitions of flashy operas that have long passed out of every
respectable repertory; and in other countries the Government official
within whose jurisdiction the opera falls may, and very often does,
enforce the engagement of some musically incompetent prima donna in whom
he, or some scheming friend, takes a particular interest.

The moral conditions of the operatic stage are no doubt far more
satisfactory than they were, and in England the general deodorisation of
the theatre has not been unfelt in opera; but even without the unworthy
motives which too often drew the bucks and the dandies of a past day to
the opera-house, the influence of the unintelligent part of the
audience upon the performers is far from good in an artistic sense. It
is this which fosters that mental condition with which all who are
acquainted with the operatic world are only too familiar. Now, just as
in the days when Marcello wrote his _Teatro alla moda_, there is
scarcely a singer who does not hold, and extremely few who do not
express, the opinion that all the rest of the profession is in league
against them; and by this supposition, as well as by many other
circumstances, an atmosphere is created which is wholly antagonistic to