Henri Lavedan is the author of The Duel (1905), produced in this country by Mr. Otis Skinner. Octave Mirbeau is the author of Les affaires sont les affaires (1903), played by Mr. W. H. Crane. Henri Bernstein has two recent successes to his credit, The Thief (1906), played by Mr. Kyrle Bellew and Miss Margaret Illington, and Samson (1907), the feature of Mr. William Gillette's present season.

Doubtless in the foregoing pages, many plays have not been mentioned which in their day may have been put before the American public, and have achieved a temporary success, owing to temporary conditions or the popularity of the players. Such, for instance, was The Daughter of Roland (1875) of Henri de Bornier (1825-1901), as interpreted thirty years ago by the stately Mary Anderson or Fanchon the Cricket, adapted from George Sand's La petite Fadette (1849) and played for years by the sprightly Maggie Mitchell. This last play is still to be met with in the repertory of the more remote stock companies, and it must be admitted that it does have a charm of its own apart from that which must have been lent to it by the acting of Maggie Mitchell. It is hardly possible to say as much for the latest successful French play adapted for the American stage, L'amour veille (1907), which, under the title, Love Watches, has been one of the great successes of the present season in New York. This comedy by R. de Flers and A. Caillavet furnishes a pleasant evening's diversion, it is true, but this is chiefly owing to the rare personality and piquant acting of Miss Billie Burke as the heroine.

On the whole, then, if every French play that makes its way across the Atlantic does not prove to be a masterpiece with enduring life, we must admit that we owe to France a great debt for the many that we have received. Certain it is that English and American managers are watching the Parisian stage with eagerness in the present, as they have done in the past, and we may confidently expect to receive in the future the good things which are undoubtedly in store for us.

ORGAN TRANSCRIPTIONS

BY GEORGE M. CHADWICK

The subject of organ transcriptions (arrangements for the organ of compositions not originally composed for it) has always been open to discussion. As a rule conservative musicians have been opposed to admitting into organ literature compositions that are not strictly organ works. This position, though in some instances too pedantic, can in a measure be explained as a wise protest against the modern tendency to transcribe almost everything within sight, without any discrimination or sense of the eternal fitness of things. Such a state of affairs may well excuse conservative musicians from recognizing any compromise with the undeniable superficiality of that class of organists who seem to possess no innate understanding of the true nature of the organ, and are willing to give the public what it asks for or rather what they assume to know that the public wants-without any anxiety about the state of their own musical consciences. Unfortunately there is an almost total absence of authoritative literature on this subject, which, by taking a comprehensive view of the entire range of composition, and by allowing for diversities of national temperament and the varying conditions which have at different times influenced organists and composers, can be considered as leading to a better understanding of the matter. This paper is merely an attempt to define some phases of the discussion and possibly to explain why there exists misunderstandings.

It is unfortunately true that since Bach and Handel, almost nothing has been written by the greatest composers for the organ as a solo instrument. The most important exceptions to this statement are Mendelssohn's Preludes and Fugues, his Organ Sonatas, Schumann's Canons, and also his Fugues on the name of BACH, and finally the eleven beautiful and noble Choral-Preludes which Brahms composed in the evening of his life-a worthy tribute to the organ, revealing again to the world its rich inexhaustible possibilities. But alas, how small

in quantity is the above list of works when compared with the other instrumental compositions of the masters!

Hence there are two questions one may well ask. Why did not the composers of the latter half of the eighteenth and first half of the nineteenth centuries write more for the organ? And since they did not, shall organists be condemned for resorting to transcriptions rather than omit from their répertoire the greatest composers of that period? Possibly the first of these questions can be answered as follows: The composers of that period were less closely identified with the organ than were Bach and Handel, one reason being the development of the orchestra and the evolution of the piano from the clavichord and harpsichord to the modern instrument. It would require an exhaustive article on this alone to explain satisfactorily this neglect of the organ by the great composers for almost a century. I merely add this suggestion that had the organs of that period been more distinctly solo instruments in the modern sense, the case might have been otherwise. However magnificently some of those old organs could interpret a fugue, their clumsy mechanism and limitations in the matter of fine tonal shadings and contrasts did not invite the creation of new forms, such as the modern sonata. In fact, one feels that by common consent the composers recognized that nothing more could be written after Bach. When Mendelssohn at last broke the silence and gave to the world his own organ compositions, so beautiful and perfect, he sounded a prophetic note almost revolutionary in its full meaning-certainly revolutionary for Mendelssohn.

The second of these questions we can only hope to discuss and leave unanswered. The transition from the organ style of the early part of the eighteenth century to that of the orchestra must be considered from two standpoints-the difference between the organ and orchestra as a medium of musical expression, and those outward influences already exerting a force in the compositions of Bach's son, Carl Philipp Emanuel-influences of court life amounting to almost a reaction against the profound musicianship and earnestness of Bach. This is not the place to discuss the evolution of this style from the early symphonies of Haydn to its full development in Beethoven. A musician

feels that as in the realm of organ tone the fugue rules supreme, so in that of the orchestra the eternal rightness of the symphony must be recognized.

But who shall say that there exists an impassable boundaryline which neither the organ nor orchestra can cross? If, for example, musicians welcome a Bach fugue arranged for the orchestra, why not accept at least a few movements from Beethoven's symphonies arranged for the organ? While it is true that the symphony loses much in being thus transferred from the orchestra to the organ, it is also true that it is not in every respect a gain to the organ fugue to be transferred to the orchestra. But the logical argument is after all based on the fact that the orchestra is hungry for a Bach literature, which it possesses only in a limited sense, unless orchestral arrangements are resorted to; and for the same reason the organists' hunger for a Beethoven literature can only be satisfied by transcriptions. While the mistakes of organists are many, not only in attempting at times the impossible-to say nothing of their often most unworthy interpretations of orchestral works—yet the motive is not an unworthy one when prompted and guided by true musicianship. And again, one must not forget that some of the greatest composers were organists, in some cases preferring the organ to any other instrument. Take, for example, Beethoven. One hardly thinks of him as playing exclusively the fugues, etc., of the early period of Bach's time, but rather as finding through the medium of the organ an expression for his creative energy-in other words as improvising. Now, while we have no exact record of these improvisations, we can imagine the same Beethoven at the organ that we know in his sonatas, quartettes and symphonies. We cannot know what he dreamed at the organ. Perhaps at the sacrifice of some of the immortal works he has left to the world he might have enriched organ literature. But this is only dreaming of what might have been.

Let us now turn to the more technical questions, explaining also some of the limitations of the organ and also why transcriptions are either justly or unjustly criticized. A subject of vital importance in this connection is that of registration (the use of organ stops). While the possibilities of an organ to reproduce approximately certain orchestral