Another Slav whose songs are mainly German is Moritz Moszkowski (born 1851). He wrote with less ambitious intent than Tschaikowsky and achieved some charming results, as in his well known ‘Slumber Song.’ But the conventional hangs over his work, and his is one of the reputations which is fast dying. VII The England of the last half of the nineteenth century has left us little that we can treasure in song music. Easily the most popular composer of the time was Sir Arthur Sullivan (1842-1900), who wrote the music of the inimitable Gilbert and Sullivan operettas, which are quite as perfect in their way as Mozart’s operas. If we were to include in this list the songs from these pieces we should have a song literature altogether remarkable and charming. But outside of his stage works Sullivan was surprisingly cheap in his vocal music. It is hard to explain the quantity of songs he put out which would hardly have been a credit to a low-class music hall. They are for the most part unbelievably sentimental and commonplace. A few of his less popular songs, however (for example, the ‘Arabian Love Song’ and ‘O Fair Dove, O Fond Dove’), showed an effort at artistic creation, and among the popular ones we may find a handful, such as ‘Sweethearts,’ which are tolerable. But in this description we have omitted one song which is of quite a special calibre. This is the universally known ‘Lost Chord.’ Perhaps the piece is unduly sentimental; perhaps the religious sentiment of it is somewhat theatrical. But on the whole it is certainly a fine and noble inspiration. It is not a bit the worse for its huge popularity. The musical material is impressive in the extreme and the handling is admirable. Frederick Cowen (born 1852) was a prolific composer of songs (his output numbers nearly 300) and, next to Sullivan, was the most popular song-writer of his time. His talent was limited, being wholly satisfactory only in work of a light and fanciful character. In this field he well deserves his reputation. But his sentimental songs are in the worst tradition of the time. His influence in this sort of music has been huge, and he may almost be called the father, for England and America, of the brood of sentimental pieces that pose as art-songs. He has been a potent factor in the debasing of the taste of concert audiences, and singers should know him chiefly as an admirable example of what to avoid. Why the songs of this class are bad might perhaps be told on paper. But a far better answer would be a comparison between them and a few first-rate songs, say by Franz or Brahms. A little familiarity with songs of the Cowen type will show how utterly they fail to ring true to healthy sentiment.