bend over and stroke the wrist which she had freed from manacles while
the powerful personages of the play were bowing before her as a pattern
of conjugal love and the mimic populace were shouting their jubilations
over salvation accomplished.

At the third representation, on November 21st, Meyerbeer's "Huguenots"
was brought forward to introduce Mme. Schroeder-Hanfstängl; and at the
fourth tribute to the characteristic German spirit was paid by the
production of Weber's "Der Freischütz." From the day of its birth this
has been the opera in which the romantic spirit of the German race
has found its most vivid reflection. The sombre lights and mysterious
murmurings of the German forests pervade it; the spectres of that
paganism from which the sturdy Northerners could be weaned only by
compromise and artifice flit through it. The Wild Huntsman overshadows
it and, though he says not a word, he powerfully asserts his claim upon
the trembling admiration of those who keep open hearts for some of his
old companions of pre-Christian days--especially for the burly fellow
who under a new name is welcomed joyfully every Christmastide. In
another sense, too, "Der Freischütz" is a national opera; the spirit of
its music is drawn from the art-form which the people created. Instead
of resting on the highly artificial product of the Italian renaissance,
it rests upon popular song--folk-song, the song of the folk. Its
melodies echo the cadences of the Volkslieder in which the German heart
voices its dearest loves. Instead of shining with the light of the
Florentine courts it glows with the rays of the setting sun filtered
through the foliage of the Black Forest. Yet "Der Freischütz" failed on
this its revival--failed so dismally that Dr. Damrosch did not venture
upon a single repetition. The lesson which it taught had already been
suggested by "Fidelio," but now it was made plain and Dr. Damrosch paid
heed to it at once. The dimensions of the Metropolitan Opera House