at predecessors, and did much to familiarise
the world with the new beauties of their masters' work. The history of
art often repeats itself in this way. First comes the genius burning
with celestial fire. He sweeps away the time-worn formulas, and founds
his new art upon their ruins. Then follows the crowd of disciples, men
of talent and imagination, though without the crowning impulse that
moves the world. They repeat and amplify their leader's maxims, until
the world, which at first had stood aghast at teaching so novel, in time
grows accustomed to it, and finally accepts it without question. Next
comes the final stage, when what has been caviare to one generation is
become the daily bread of the next. The innovations of the master,
caught up and reproduced by his disciples, in the third generation
become the conventional formulas of the art, and the world is ripe once
more for a revolution!

Deeply as Gluck's work affected the history of music, his immediate
disciples were few. Salieri (1750-1825), an Italian by birth, was
chiefly associated with the Viennese court, but wrote his best work,
'Les Danaides,' for Paris. He caught the trick of Gluck's grand style
cleverly, but was hardly more than an imitator. Sacchini (1734-1786) had
a more original vein, though he too was essentially a composer of the
second class. He was not actually a pupil of Gluck, though his later
works, written for the Paris stage, show the influence of the composer
of 'Alceste' very strongly. The greatest of Gluck's immediate
followers--the greatest, because he imbibed the principles of his
master's art without slavishly reproducing his form--was Mehul
(1763-1817), a composer who is so little known in England that it is
difficult to speak of him in terms which shall not sound exaggerated to
those who are not familiar with his works. How highly he is ranked by
French critics may be gathered from the fact that when 'Israel in Egypt'
was performed for the first time in Paris some years ago, M. Julien
Tiersot, one of the sanest and most clear-headed of contemporary writers
on music, gave it as his opinion that Handel's work was less conspicuous
for the qualities of dignity and sonority than Mehul's 'Joseph.'
Englishmen can scarcely be expected to echo this opinion, but as to the
intrinsic greatness of Mehul's work there cannot be any question. He
was far more of a scientific musician than Gluck, and his scores have
nothing of his master's jejunenes