under the guise of Wagnerism, the wildest theories and
the most extravagant assertions were current in musical criticism.
Gallet was naturally well poised and independent and he did not do as
the rest did. Instead he opposed them, but from unwillingness to give
needless offense he displayed marked tact and discretion in his
criticisms. This did him no good, however, for it aroused no sentiment
of gratitude, and without giving him credit for a literary style that
was rare among librettists, his contemporaries received each of his
works with a hostility entirely devoid of either justice or mercy.
Gallet felt this hostility keenly. He felt that he did not deserve it,
since he took so much care in his work and put so much courtesy into his
criticism. The blank verse he used in _Thais_ with admirable regard for
color and harmony, counting on the music to take the place of the rhyme,
was not appreciated. This verse was free from assonance and the
banalities which it draws into operatic works, but it kept the rhythm
and sonorous sound which is far removed from prose. That was the period
when there was nothing but praise for Alfred Ernst's gibberish, though
that was an insult alike to the French language and the masterpieces he
had the temerity to translate. Gallet used the same blank verse in
_Dejanire_, although its use here was more debatable, but he handled it
with surprising skill. Now that this text has been set to music, it
shows its full beauty.

Louis Gallet devoted a large part of his time to administrative duties,
for he was successively treasurer and manager of hospitals. Nevertheless
he produced works in abundance. He left a record of no less than forty
operatic librettos, plays, romances, memoirs, pamphlets, and innumerable
articles. I wish I knew what to say about the man himself, his
unwearying goodness, his loyalty, his scrupulousness, his good humor,
his originality, his continual common sense, and his intellect, alert to
everything unusual and interesting.

What good talks we used to have as we dined under an arbor in the large
garden which was his delight at Lariboisiere! I used to take him seeds,
and he made amusing botanical experiments with them.

He was seriously ill at one period of his life. He was wonderfully
nursed by his wife--who was a saint--and he endured prolonged and
atrocious sufferings with the patience of a saint. He watched the growth
of his fatal disease with a stoicism worthy of the sag