uninteresting librettos that he so thoughtlessly accepted. In that dreary book, “Le Drapier,” there is a glorious duet, “Ah! devenez mon père.” But there is not an opera of his in which some perfect gem is not to be found. His fecundity in melody is impressively exemplified in the fairy opera “La Fée aux Roses,” of which the score is affluent in charming music, sensuously oriental in style, beautiful in local color, and of striking originality in orchestral treatment. He made an attempt to revive the enharmonic scale of the Greeks in his “Prométhée Enchainé,” the translation of which had been made by his brother. It was a bold adventure, but it failed. It must be confessed that it is monotonous because of lack of variety in the orchestration, owing to the almost continuous use of wind instruments to the neglect of the strings. The recitatives are noble, and the chorus of the Océanides is one of his most classical and beautiful compositions. [Illustration: CARICATURE OF HALÉVY BY CARJAT. 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