The above statement that serious opera only recently has begun to show signs of becoming popular requires elucidation. The best way of approaching the question is to consider the basis on which our operatic institutions grew. We started with the institutions because, as always in the United States, there were people in those days who did not wish to be deprived in the New World of all they had been able to enjoy in the Old. The ever-present snobs gradually joined their ranks, and at the time the Metropolitan Opera was founded, twenty years after the Civil War, their influence was at its height. It was the epoch of great fortunes, of tremendous expansion of American industry and finance, and of the arrogance of recently acquired wealth. Much has been made of the fact that in the original architectural planning of the Metropolitan Opera House express provision was made for the demands of social exhibitionism. All this is tiresome, no doubt, but it is relatively harmless. More important, perhaps, is that the problem of building an intelligent public was faced in all too casual a manner. The small European and cosmopolitan nucleus had no need for such education; the snobs needed little or nothing, since their aims were far from the desire for genuine artistic experience. Most others contented themselves with accepting or rejecting what was offered. It is worth considering our operatic situation not only in itself, but in its relations to the environment into which it was transplanted. There is every reason to believe that the performances of that period were of the highest quality, and that that level declined only much later, under pressures similar to those already mentioned in connection with our concert life, which in both cases arose roughly at the time of the World War I with the decline of patronage. In the last years of the nineteenth century there existed not only enough wealth fully to support such enterprises, but also a willingness to follow the best artistic advice obtainable. What was wanted was, in the direct terms, the collaboration of the most distinguished artists of Europe, and such collaboration was cheerfully and handsomely rewarded. The latest novelties were desired along with all the standard repertory, and they were mounted in the most sumptuous manner. Occasional world _premières_ took place at the Metropolitan; the author has already referred to the fact that his parents sought the advice of foreign composers, in this case of Puccini and Humperdinck, who were in New York for the world _premières_ of _The Girl of the Golden West_ and of _Königskinder_, respectively. Among the conductors at the Metropolitan were Anton Seidl, and later, Gustav Mahler and Arturo Toscanini. While the repertory favored the nationality of the manager (under Conried German opera and under Gatti-Casazza Italian), such favoritism was, at least in part, amended by other organizations.