Gustave Charpentier (born 1860), composer of the world-famous opera ‘Louise,’ has written a handful of songs, some of superior quality. The _Chansons à danser_ are written in imitation of the old French dances, the spirit and the form being caught with keen insight. The best of the group is the ‘Sarabande.’ In the _Fleurs du mal_ he is working in more familiar vein--that spirit of intense and somewhat chaotic emotionalism that distinguishes his operas. When we list the fifteen _Poèmes chantés_ we have named all his songs. Charpentier’s style is modern and genuinely French, but it is sharply distinguished from that of Debussy and Ravel. It is a development of that of Massenet (whose pupil Charpentier was), but it is developed an immense distance beyond ‘Thaïs.’ It contains more of the flesh (and more of the open air) than Debussy ever shows. ‘Atmosphere’ for its own sake enters into his work not at all. Everything is expressive and nearly everything expressive of human emotions. The musical style is admirably adapted to the purpose, choosing from the modern French technique just those elements which it can use. It makes constant use of detached or irregular phrases of melody and these it interweaves in great abundance into the harmonic texture. Charpentier strikes an admirable middle path in modern French music, being neither too intellectual, like d’lndy, nor too technical, like Ravel. IV Concerning Claude Debussy (born 1862) the world is not yet decided. At one time he seemed the supreme innovator and the master tone-poet of modern times. Nothing so utterly new had ever come to people’s ears since ‘Tristan,’ or probably since the later symphonies of Beethoven. He was for a number of years the chief spokesman for the ultra-modern to the whole world. For fully ten years he worked away, striving for the vision he had before him, until recognition finally came. From this very fact we may assume that he is an entirely sincere artist and not a charlatan as he was once considered. And, because he could work so consistently in his own style, he seemed to the world supremely creative. Possibly sober opinion has modified somewhat the opinion of ten years ago, when _Pelléas et Mélisande_ was a startling novelty. The technical power with which he presented an absolutely new case remains as admirable as ever. But opinion of the absolute musical value of his work is somewhat diminishing, now that we are accustomed to the idiom. In plain words, it is beginning to be understood that Debussy repeats himself more than do most great composers, certainly more than a composer of the first rank would do. Moreover, his music does not hold a place in people’s hearts. It is truly expressive of delicate moods (moods in which the nerves and senses are chiefly involved); but it does not express the things that are nearest to human beings. At bottom, the variety possible to Debussy’s style is slight. He has