And it would have been more seemly if in this three-day festival the organisers had had the courteousness to devote the first day to French music, and had set aside one whole concert for it.  But, without doubt, they had carefully sandwiched the French works in between German works to weaken their effect, and lessen the probable (and actual) enthusiasm with which French music would be received in the presence of the Statthalter of Alsace-Lorraine by a section of the Alsatian public.  In addition to this, and by a choice that neither myself nor anyone else in Strasburg could believe was dictated by musical reasons, the German work chosen to end the evening was the final scene from Die Meistersinger, with its ringing couplet from Hans Sachs, in which he denounces foreign insincerity and foreign frivolity (Waelschen Dunst mit waelschen Tand).  This lack of courtesy—­though the words were really nonsense when this very concert was given to show that foreign art could not be ignored—­would not be worth while raking up if it did not further serve to show how regrettable is the indifference of French artists who take part in these festivals.  And this mistake would never have occurred if they had taken care to acquaint themselves with the programme beforehand and put their veto upon it.

I have mentioned this little incident partly because my views were shared by many Alsatians in the audience, who expressed their annoyance to me afterwards.  But, putting it aside, our French artists ought not to have consented to let our music be represented by a mutilated score of Les Beatitudes and by Charpentier’s Impressions d’Italie, for the latter, though a brilliantly clever work, is not of the first rank, and was too easily crushed by one of Wagner’s most stupendous compositions.  If people wish to institute a joust between French and German art, let it be a fair one, I repeat; let Wagner be matched with Berlioz, and Strauss with Debussy, and Mahler with Dukas or Magnard.

* * * * *

Such were the conditions of the combat; and they were, whether intentionally or not, unfavourable to France.  And yet to the eyes of an impartial observer the result was full of hope and encouragement for us.

I have never bothered myself in art with questions of nationality.  I have not even concealed my preference for German music; and I consider, even to-day, that Richard Strauss is the foremost musical composer in Europe.  Having said this, I am freer to speak of the strange impression that I had at the Strasburg festival—­an impression of the change that is coming over music, and the way that French art is silently setting about taking the place of German art.