His first opera, ‘The Veiled Prophet,’ was originally performed at Hanover in 1881, but was not actually heard in London until it was produced at Covent Garden in 1894.  The libretto, an admirable condensation of Moore’s well-known poem from the pen of Mr. W. Barclay Squire, gave the composer ample opportunities for picturesque and dramatic effect.  Stanford’s music is tuneful and vigorous throughout, and such weaknesses as are occasionally perceptible are due rather to inexperience of the stage than to any failure in inspiration.

‘The Canterbury Pilgrims,’ written to a libretto by Gilbert a Beckett, which was produced in 1884, was happily named by some one at the time an English ‘Meistersinger,’ and indeed it is not difficult to imagine what model Stanford had in his mind when writing his brilliant and genial opera, Geoffrey, the host of the Tabard Inn, has a pretty daughter named Cicely, who is loved by the jovial apprentice, Hubert.  Geoffrey finds out their attachment, and determines to sent Cicely upon a visit to an aunt in Kent, in company with a body of pilgrims who are just starting for Canterbury.  Sir Christopher Synge, a knight of Kent, has cast sheep’s eyes upon the pretty girl, and hearing of her intended trip bids his factotum, Hal o’ the Chepe, assemble a company of ragamuffins, and carry her off on her way to Canterbury.  Hubert contrives to get enlisted among them, so as to be able to watch over his sweetheart, and Dame Margery, Sir Christopher’s wife, also in disguise, joins the pilgrims, in the hope of keeping an eye upon her errant spouse.  In the second act the pilgrims arrive at Sidenbourne.  Dame Margery helps the lovers to escape, and taking Cicely’s place receives the vows and sighs of her husband.  In the third act the lovers have been overtaken and caught by the irate Geoffrey, and Hubert is dragged to trial before Sir Christopher.  After an amusing trial scene, the knight discovers that Cicely is one of the culprits, and at once pardons them both.  Geoffrey is persuaded to forgive the young couple, and all ends happily, Stanford’s music is a happy compromise between old and new.  In his use of guiding themes, and in his contrapuntal treatment of the orchestra he follows Wagner, but his employment of new devices is tempered by due regard for established tradition.  He is happiest in dealing with humorous situations, and in the lighter parts of the opera his music has a bustling gaiety which fits the situation very happily.  In the more passionate scenes he is less at home, and the love duet in particular is by no means entirely satisfactory.  Stanford’s next work, ‘Savonarola,’ was performed in London for the first time by a German company under Dr. Hans Richter in 1884.  Interesting as much of the music is, the performance was not successful, partly owing to the almost unmitigated gloom of the libretto.  Far the best part of the work, both musically and dramatically, is the prologue, which tells of the love of Savonarola for Clarice, of her marriage, and of his renouncement of the world.  The merit of this scene is so great that it might be worth the composer’s while to produce it as a one-act opera, in which form it would be safe to predict for it a genuine success.