From the Paris illustrated paper “Le Gaulois.”
]
Halévy, despite all his industry and the fame he enjoyed through his
greatest successes, made no lasting impression on the music of his day.
Even “La Juive,” notwithstanding its power and its brilliancy, found no
imitators, and “L’Eclair” still stands alone, the only example in its
_genre_. It is sad that an artist should have labored so long and so
well, should have been a thorough master of his art, and yet have fallen
almost into obscurity thirty years after his death. A careful
examination of some of his more ambitious operas shows that he was, in
some respects, slightly in advance of his time, especially in his
tendency to avoid purely rhythmical airs in favor of what is now called
“Endless Melody,” but there is no likelihood that the future will revive
his works. It was his misfortune that Meyerbeer’s star rose so early
after the appearance of “La Juive,” and that Halévy was drawn into the
vortex that the rage for the composer of “Les Huguenots” made. If he had
followed the example of the latter, had written music to none but good
librettos, economized his talents instead of wasting them in a reckless
ambition to produce music; if he had also adhered firmly to his own
individual originality instead of permitting himself to be unreasonably
influenced by the success of another, his operas might have had a
stronger claim than they have on the favorable consideration of
posterity. When Halévy wrote “La Juive,” the time was ripe for a great
revolution in French grand opera, and he just escaped becoming an
epoch-maker at his art. Meyerbeer appeared at that moment, and to him
fell the honor that was just within Halévy’s grasp. Whether the latter
would have seized it if his rival’s career had been delayed, it is hard
to say, for his lack of discrimination in the choice of opera books was
already deep-seated. Saint Beuve says of him: “‘La Juive,’ ‘Guido,’ ‘La
Reine de Chypre,’ ‘Charles VI,’ are true lyric tragedies on which are
the seal of beauties that time cannot obliterate. Some works, that
appeal more readily to the tastes of the masses, have been dowered with
greater popularity, but the decision of those who know is the only one
that appeals to a conscientious artist, and of this, Halévy received an
ample share. We think we are not mistaken in saying that as musical
education becomes more widespread, the popularity of Halévy will grow.”
This, however, is doubtful, and it is more than probable that Halévy
himself felt that he had not wholly accomplished his mission, for Saint
Beuve, who knew him well, also says, “It is strange that this estimable
man, always full of work, should sometimes have nursed a secret sorrow.
What it was, not even his most cherished and trusted friends ever knew.
He never complained.” Who shall say that this secret sorrow, so silently
guarded, was not born of a sense of failure, or at least, of
self-disappointment! It is not improbable that toward the close of his
busy art-life he saw, with prophetic eye, the fate that was to attend
the greater part of what he had composed; that he had written for his
own time and not for the future. Already he has become little more than
a name to nearly all, except students of musical history. The works on
which his fame chiefly rests are seldom performed, and the others,
admirable as many of them are, have gone into oblivion, and in all
probability, never to see the light again. That he was a master in his
art, is unquestionable, but it would seem also that he was lacking in
that highest quality of genius that confers immortality on its
possessor.
[Illustration: B. E. Woolf]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
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