In his younger days Sullivan had many disciples.  Alfred Cellier, the composer of the world-famous ‘Dorothy,’ was the best of them.  Edward Solomon was hardly more than a clever imitator.  The mantle of Sullivan seems now to have fallen on Mr. Edward German, who besides completing Sullivan’s unfinished ‘Emerald Isle,’ won brilliant success with his enchanting ‘Merrie England.’  His ‘Princess of Kensington’ was saddled with a dull libretto, but the music was hardly inferior to that of its predecessor, and much the same may be said of his latest work ’Tom Jones.’

The recent performances of English composers in the field of grand opera have not been very encouraging.  Few indeed are the opportunities offered to our native musicians of winning distinction on the lyric stage, and of late we have been regaled with the curious spectacle of English composers setting French or German libretti in the hope of finding in foreign theatres the hearing that is denied them in their own.  Miss Ethel Smyth is the most prominent and successful of the composers whose reputation has been made abroad.  Her ‘Fantasio’ has not been given in England, but ‘Der Wald,’ an opera in one act, after having been produced in Germany was given at Covent Garden in 1902 with conspicuous success.  The libretto, which is the work of the composer herself, is concise and dramatic.  Heinrich the forester loves Roeschen, the woodman’s daughter, but on the eve of their marriage he has the misfortune to attract the notice of Iolanthe, the mistress of his liege lord the Landgrave Rudolf.  He rejects her advances, and in revenge she has him stabbed by her followers.  This is the bare outline of the story, but the value of the work lies in the highly poetical and imaginative framework in which it is set.  Behind the puny passions of man looms the vast presence of the eternal forest, the mighty background against which the children of earth fret their brief hour and pass into oblivion.  The note which echoes through the drama is struck in the opening scene—­a tangled brake deep in the heart of the great stillness, peopled by nymphs and fauns whose voices float vaguely through the twilight.  Every scene in the drama is tinged with the same mysterious influence, until at the close the spirit-voices chant their primeval hymn over the bodies of the lovers in the gathering night.  Miss Smyth’s music has the same mastering unity.  The voice of the forest is the keynote of her score.  Perhaps it can hardly be said that she has altogether succeeded in translating into music the remarkable conception which is the foundation of her libretto.  Had she done so, she might at once have taken her place by the side of Wagner, the only composer of modern times who has handled a philosophical idea of this kind in music with any notable success.  But her music has an individual strain of romance, which stamps her as a composer of definite personality, while in the more dramatic scenes she shows a fine