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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 55941 ***












              [Illustration: BEETHOVEN AT THE AGE OF 48.]
                     _From a Painting by Kloeber._

                                                     _To face page 40._




                               BEETHOVEN

                                  BY
                            ROMAIN ROLLAND

                             TRANSLATED BY
                           B. CONSTANCE HULL


               WITH A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF THE SONATAS, THE
                    SYMPHONIES, AND THE QUARTETS BY

                          A. EAGLEFIELD HULL
                           MUS. DOC. (OXON).


              WITH 24 MUSICAL ILLUSTRATIONS AND 4 PLATES
               and an Introduction by EDWARD CARPENTER,

                  Author of _Towards Democracy_, &c.

                            [Illustration]

                               NEW YORK
                        HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
                                 1917




                                PREFACE

                    "_I want to prove that whoever acts rightly and
                    nobly, can by that alone bear misfortune."_
                                                          BEETHOVEN.

                          (To the Municipality of Vienna, Feb. 1, 1819.)


The air is heavy around us. The world is stifled by a thick and
vitiated atmosphere--an undignified materialism which weighs on the
mind and heart hindering the work of governments and individuals alike.
We are being suffocated. Let us throw open the windows that God's free
air may come in, and that we may breathe the breath of heroes.

Life is stern. It is a daily battle for those not content with an
unattractive mediocrity of soul. And a sad battle it is, too, for
many--a combat without grandeur, without happiness, fought in solitude
and silence. Weighed down by poverty and domestic cares, by excessive
and senseless tasks which waste the strength to no purpose, without a
gleam of hope, many souls are separated from each other, without even
the consolation of holding out a hand to their brothers in misfortune
who ignore them and are ignored by them. They are forced to rely on
themselves alone; and there are moments when even the strongest give
way under their burden of trouble. They call out--for a friend.

Let them then gather around themselves the heroic friends of the
past--the great souls who suffered for the good of universal humanity.
The lives of great men are not written for the proud or for the
ambitious; they are dedicated rather to the unhappy. And who really is
not? To those who suffer, we offer the balm of their sacred sufferings.
No one is alone in the fight. The darkness of the world is made clear
by the guiding light of the souls of the heroes.

I do not give the name hero to those who have triumphed by infinite
thought or by sheer physical strength--but only to those made great
by goodness of heart. Beethoven wrote, "I recognise no sign of
superiority in mankind other than goodness." Where the character is
not great, there is no great man, there is not even a great artist,
nor a great man of action; there are only idols unearthed for the
cheap and short-lived applause of the multitude; time will efface them
altogether. Outward success matters little. The only thing is to be
great, not to appear so.

The lives of the great heroes were lives of one long martyrdom; a
tragic destiny willed their souls to be forged on the anvil of physical
and moral grief, of misery and ill-health. They were made great through
their misfortune. Because these mighty souls complained little of their
unhappiness, the best of humanity is with them. Let us gather courage
from them; for torrents of quiet strength and inspiring goodness issued
from their great hearts. Without even consulting their works or hearing
their voices, we read in their eyes the secret of their lives--that it
is good to have been in trouble, for thence the character acquires even
more greatness, happiness and fruition.

                *       *       *       *       *

The strong and pure Beethoven himself hoped in the midst of his
sufferings that his example would give help to other unfortunate
ones ... "that the unhappy being may be consoled in finding another
as unfortunate as himself, who in face of all obstacles has done
everything possible to become worthy of the name, MAN." After years
of battling with almost superhuman efforts to rise superior to his
sufferings and accomplish his life's work--to breathe a little more
courage into poor weak humanity, this conquering Prometheus observed to
a friend who called too much on God, "O man, help thyself!"

May we be inspired by his noble words. Animated by the example of this
man's faith in life and his quiet confidence in himself, let us again
take heart.

                                                  ROMAIN ROLLAND.




                             INTRODUCTION

                          By EDWARD CARPENTER


It is not very generally recognised that Beethoven was not only a
great musician, but a great leader and teacher. He freed the human
spirit from innumerable petty bonds and conventions, he recorded
the profoundest experiences of life, and gave form and utterance to
emotions hardly guessed--certainly not definitely expressed--before his
time. Personally I feel I owe much more to Beethoven in these respects
than I do to Shakespeare: and though this, of course, may be a purely
personal or accidental matter, yet I mention it in order to show that
the music of such a man has, after all, the closest bearing on actual
life.

M. Romain Rolland in his excellent little study has brought this
prophetic and inspiring quality of Beethoven's life and music out
very strongly. He has traced the tragedy of Beethoven's life and
experience, and its culmination in a kind of liberation of his spirit
from the bonds of mortality; he has shown how this connects up with
the composer's strong sentiment of democracy and sympathy with the
suffering masses; and how it leads to the utterance of that strange
sense of joy which penetrates and suffuses his later work. In all
these respects M. Rolland regards Beethoven as one of the greatest
benefactors of humanity.

On the other hand our author builds in the picture of Beethoven's life
and character with a great number of small touches derived from all
sorts of writers and biographers--and so succeeds in giving a life-like
impression of his personality.

                                                 EDWARD CARPENTER.

                   *       *       *       *       *

As bearing on the subject of M. Romain Rolland's book, Mr. Carpenter
has kindly given permission to insert the following few extracts from
his own book, "Angels' Wings."

"Everything conspired in Beethoven to make his utterance authentic,
strong, unqualified--like a gushing spring which leaps from the
inaccessible depths of the mountain. His solitary habits kept his
mind clear from the mud and sediment which the market-place and the
forum mistake for thought; his deafness coming on at so early an age
(twenty-eight), increased this effect, it left him fancy-free in the
world of music; Wagner even mentions the excessive thickness of his
skull (ascertained long after his death), as suggesting the special
isolation of his brain. From a boy Beethoven was a great reader. He
fed his mind in his own way. Unlike the musicians who went before
him, he could brook no dependence upon condescending nobilities. He
was not going to be a Court fool. The man who could rush into the
courtyard of his really sincere friend and 'patron,' Prince Lobkowitz,
and shout 'Lobkowitz donkey, Lobkowitz donkey,' for all the valets and
chambermaids to hear; or who could leave his humble lodgings because
the over-polite landlord of the house would insist on doffing his
hat each time they passed on the stairs; must have had 'something of
the devil in him!' (This was the verdict of Hummel, Vogler, Gelinck,
and others when they first heard him improvise on his arrival at
Vienna). In politics, in a quite general way, he evolved radicalism or
republicanism as his creed; in religion, though nominally a Catholic,
he was quite informal. A pantheist one might perhaps call him, or a
mystic after Eckhardt and Tauler. Finally, one may mention, as an
indication of the great range and strength of his personality, its
exceedingly slow growth. While Mozart at the age of twenty-three had
written a great number of Operas, Symphonies, Cantatas and Masses--many
of them of quite mature character--Beethoven at the same age had little
or nothing to show. His first Symphony and his Septet, which he always
looked back upon as childish productions, were not written till about
the age of twenty-seven; and his first great Symphony (the _Eroica_)
not till he was thirty-two."--_Angels' Wings_, pp. 141-2.

"Beethoven came at the culmination of a long line of musical tradition.
He also came at a moment when the foundations of society were breaking
away for the preparation of something new. His great strength lay in
the fact that he united the old and the new. He was epic and dramatic,
and held firmly to the accepted outlines and broad evolution of his
art, like the musicians who went before him; he was lyrical, like those
who followed, and uttered to the full his own vast individuality. And
so (like the greatest artists) he transformed rather than shattered the
traditions into which he was born.

"Beethoven was always trying to express _himself_; yet not, be it
said, so much any little phase of himself or of his feelings, as the
total of his life-experience. He was always trying to reach down and
get the fullest, deepest utterance of which his subject in hand was
capable, and to relate it to the rest of his experience. But being such
as he was, and a master-spirit of his age, when he reached into himself
for his own expression, he reached to the expression also of others--to
the expression of all the thoughts and feelings of that wonderful
revolutionary time, seething with the legacy of the past and germinal
with the hopes and aspirations of the future. Music came to him rich
already with gathered voices; but he enlarged its language beyond all
precedent for the needs of a new humanity."--_Ibid_, pp. 146-7.

"Bettina Brentano, writing to Goethe of Beethoven, says: 'I am, indeed,
only a child, but I am not on that account wrong in saying (what
perhaps no one yet perceives and believes) that he far surpasses the
measure of other men. Shall we ever attain to him? I doubt it. May
he but live till the lofty problem of his spirit be fully solved;
let him but reach his highest aim, and he will put into our hands
the key to a glorious knowledge which shall bring us a stage nearer
to true blessedness.... He said himself, "I have no friend, I must
live alone; but I know that in my heart God is nearer to me than to
others. I approach him without fear, I have always known him. Neither
am I anxious about my music, which no adverse fate can overtake, and
which _will free him who understands it from the misery which afflicts
others_".'

"These are wonderful words which are put into Beethoven's mouth.
Though their authenticity has been doubted, it is difficult, almost
impossible, to suppose that the 'child' or any one else invented them.
On the other hand, they agree strangely with those authentic words of
his already quoted, 'Every day I come nearer to the object which I can
feel though I cannot describe it.'

"Beethoven is the prophet of the new era which the nineteenth
century ushers in for mankind. As things must be _felt_ before they
can be acted out; so they may be expressed in the indefinite emotional
forms of music, before they can be uttered and definitely imaged forth
in words or pictorial shapes. Beethoven is the forerunner of Shelley
and Whitman among the poets, of J. W. Turner and J. F. Millet among
the painters. He is the great poet who holds Nature by the one hand
and Man by the other. Within that low-statured, rudely-outlined figure
which a century ago walked hatless through the fields near Mödling or
sat oblivious in some shabby restaurant at Vienna, dwelt an emotional
giant--a being who--though his outer life by deafness, disease,
business-worries, poverty, was shattered as it were into a thousand
squalid fragments--in his great heart embraced all mankind, with
piercing insight penetrated intellectually through all falsehoods to
the truth, and already in his art-work gave outline to the religious,
the human, the democratic yearnings, the loves, the comradeship, the
daring individualities, and all the heights and depths of feeling of
a new dawning era of society. He was in fact, and he gave utterance
to, a new type of Man. What that struggle must have been between his
inner and outer conditions--of his real self with the lonely and mean
surroundings in which it was embodied--we only know through his music.
When we listen to it we can understand the world-old tradition that
now and then a divine creature from far heavens takes mortal form and
suffers in order that it may embrace and redeem mankind."--_Ibid_, pp.
205-7.




                              CONTENTS


                                                          PAGE

    PREFACE                                                 v

    INTRODUCTION by Edward Carpenter                       ix

    LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS                                 xix

    HIS LIFE                                                1

    HIS WILL                                               57

    LETTERS

      To Carl Amenda                                       65

      To Fräulein Gerardi                                  68

      To Frl. Eleonore von Breuning                        69

      To Dr. Wegeler                                       72

      "   "     "                                          78

      To Capellmeister Hofmeister                          81

      Wegeler and Eleonore von Breuning to Beethoven       84

      To Dr. Wegeler                                       91

      To Sir George Smart in London                        92

      To I. Moscheles in London                            93

       "        "      "   "                               94

      Schindler to Messrs. Schott                          96

    THOUGHTS                                              101

    HIS WORKS (By the Editor)

      The Nine Symphonies                                 109

      The Pianoforte Sonatas                              133

      The Sonatas for Violin and Pianoforte               169

      The String Quartets                                 179

    BIBLIOGRAPHY                                          195

    CLASSIFICATION OF BEETHOVEN'S PIANOFORTE SONATAS      209

    LIST OF BEETHOVEN'S WORKS                             213

    INDEX                                                 239




                        LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


    1. BEETHOVEN AT THE AGE OF 21                   _Frontispiece_
    _From a miniature by Gerhard von Kügelgen._

    2. BEETHOVEN AT THE AGE OF 48                   _facing p._ 40
    _From a painting by Kloeber._

    3. BEETHOVEN AT THE AGE OF 44                        "      64
    _From an engraving by Blasius Hoefel
    after the drawing by Louis Letronne, 1814._

    4. PAGE OF AUTOGRAPH OF MOONLIGHT SONATA
    IN BEETHOVEN HOUSE AT BONN                           "     100




    [Illustration: BEETHOVEN AT THE AGE OF 21.]
    _From a Miniature by Gerhard von Kügelgen._


                                                    _Frontispiece._




                               BEETHOVEN

                                  Woltuen, wo man kann
                                  Freiheit über alles lieben,
                                  Wahrheit nie, auch sogar am
                                  Throne nicht verleugnen.

                                               _Beethoven_
                                           (Album-leaf, 1792)

                                  To do all the good one can,
                                  To love liberty above everything,
                                  And even if it be for a kingdom,
                                  Never to betray truth.

                               HIS LIFE


He was short and thick set, broad shouldered and of athletic build. A
big face, ruddy in complexion--except towards the end of his life, when
his colour became sickly and yellow, especially in the winter after he
had been remaining indoors far from the fields. He had a massive and
rugged forehead, extremely black and extraordinarily thick hair through
which it seemed the comb had never passed, for it was always very
rumpled, veritable bristling "serpents of Medusa."[1] His eyes shone
with prodigious force. It was one of the chief things one noticed
on first encountering him, but many were mistaken in their colour.
When they shone out in dark splendour from a sad and tragic visage,
they generally appeared black; but they were really a bluish grey.[2]
Small and very deep-set, they flashed fiercely in moments of passion
or warmth, and dilated in a peculiar way under the influence of
inspiration, reflecting his thoughts with a marvellous exactness.[3]
Often they inclined upwards with a melancholy expression. His nose was
short and broad with the nostrils of a lion; the mouth refined, with
the lower lip somewhat prominent. He had very strong jaws, which would
easily break nuts, a large indentation in his chin imparted a curious
irregularity to the face. "He had a charming smile," said Moscheles,
"and in conversation a manner often lovable and inviting confidence; on
the other hand his laugh was most disagreeable, loud, discordant and
strident"--the laugh of a man unused to happiness. His usual expression
was one of melancholy. Rellstab in 1825 said that he had to summon up
all his courage to prevent himself from breaking into tears when he
looked into Beethoven's "tender eyes with their speaking sadness."
Braun von Braunthal met him in an inn a year later. Beethoven was
sitting in a corner with closed eyes, smoking a long pipe--a habit
which grew on him more and more as he approached death. A friend spoke
to him. He smiled sadly, drew from his pocket a little note-tablet,
and in a thin voice which frequently sounded cracked notes, asked him
to write down his request. His face would frequently become suddenly
transfigured, maybe in the access of sudden inspiration which seized
him at random, even in the street, filling the passers-by with
amazement, or it might be when great thoughts came to him suddenly,
when seated at the piano. "The muscles of his face would stand out, his
veins would swell; his wild eyes would become doubly terrible. His lips
trembled, he had the manner of a wizard controlling the demons which
he had invoked." " ... A Shakespearean visage--'King Lear[4]'"--so Sir
Julius Benedict described it.

                   *       *       *       *       *

Ludwig van Beethoven was born on December 16th, 1770, in a little
bare attic of a humble dwelling at Bonn, a small University town on
the Rhine near Cologne. He came of Flemish origin.[5] His father was
an illiterate and lazy tenor singer--a "good-for-nothing fellow" and a
confirmed drunkard. His mother was the daughter of a cook. She had been
a maidservant and by her first marriage was the widow of a _valet de
chambre_.

Unlike the more fortunate Mozart, Beethoven spent an unhappy childhood
devoid of domestic comfort. From his earliest years life was for him a
sad, even a brutal, fight for existence. His father wished to exploit
the boy's musical talents and to turn him to lucrative purposes as
a prodigy. At the age of four he compelled the boy to practise on
the harpsichord for hours together and he shut him up alone with the
violin, forcing him to work in this way. It is astonishing that the
boy was not completely disgusted with music, for the father persisted
in this treatment for many years, often resorting to actual violence.
Beethoven's youth was saddened by the care and anxiety of earning his
daily bread by tasks far too burdensome for his age. When he was eleven
years old he was placed in the theatre orchestra; at thirteen he became
an organist of the chapel. In 1787 he lost his mother whom he adored.
"She was so good to me, so worthy of love, the best friend I had! How
happy was I when I could utter that dear name of mother and she could
hear it!"[6] She died of consumption and Beethoven believed himself to
be affected with the same complaint. Already he suffered continually,
and a depression of spirits even more terrible than the physical pain
hung over him always.[7] When he was seventeen he was practically
the head of the family and responsible for the education of his two
younger brothers. He suffered the humiliation of being obliged to beg
for a pension for his father, that his father's pension should be
paid to himself, as the father only squandered it in drink. These sad
experiences made a profound impression on the youth. However, he found
great affection and sympathy from a family in Bonn who always remained
very dear to him--the Breuning family. The gentle "Lorchen," Eleonore
von Breuning, was two years younger than Beethoven. He taught her music
and she initiated him into the charms of poetry. She was the companion
of his youth and there may have been between them a still more tender
sentiment. Later on Eleonore married Dr. Wegeler, one of Beethoven's
best friends; and up to Beethoven's last day there existed between the
three a deep, steady friendship, amply proven by the regular and loving
epistles of Wegeler and Eleonore, and those of their old faithful
friend (_alter treuer Freund_) to the dear good Wegeler (_guter lieber
Wegeler_). These friendly bonds became all the more touching as old age
crept on all three, and still their hearts remained warm.[8] Beethoven
also found a safe guide and good friend in Christian Gottlob Neefe, his
music master, whose high moral character had no less influence on the
young musician than did his broad and his intelligent, artistic views.

Sad as was the childhood of Beethoven, he always treasured a tender
and melancholy memory of the places where it was spent. Though
compelled to leave Bonn, and destined to spend nearly the whole of his
life in the frivolous city of Vienna with its dull environs, he never
forgot the beautiful Rhine valley and the majestic river. "_Unser Vater
Rhine_" (our father Rhine) as he called it, was to him almost human in
its sympathy, being like some gigantic soul whose deep thoughts are
beyond all human reckoning. No part is more beautiful, more powerful,
more calm, than that part where the river caresses the shady and
flowered slopes of the old University city of Bonn. There Beethoven
spent the first twenty years of his life. There the dreams of his
waking heart were born--in the fields, which slope languishingly down
to the water side, with their mist-capped poplars, their bushes and
their willows and the fruit trees whose roots are steeped in the rapid
silent stream. And all along lying gently on the banks, strangely soft,
are towns, churches, and even cemeteries, whilst away on the horizon
the blue tints of the Seven Mountains show in wild jagged edges against
the sky, forming a striking background to the graceful, slender,
dream-like silhouettes of old ruined castles. His heart remained ever
faithful to the beautiful, natural surroundings of his childhood, and
until his very last moment he dreamt of seeing these scenes once again.
"My native land, the beautiful country where I first saw the light of
day; it is always as clear and as beautiful in my eyes as when I left
it."[9] He never saw it again.

                   *       *       *       *       *

In November, 1792, Beethoven removed to Vienna, the musical metropolis
of Germany.[10] The Revolution had broken out. It threatened to spread
over the whole of Europe. Beethoven left Bonn just at the moment when
the war reached it. On his way to Vienna he passed the Hessian armies
marching to France. In 1796 and 1797 he set the war poems of Friedberg
to music: a Song of Farewell, and a patriotic chorus; _Ein grosses
deutsches Volk sind wir_ (A great German people are we). But it was in
vain that he sang of the enemies of the Revolution; the Revolution
overcame the world--and Beethoven with it. From 1798, in spite of the
strained relations between Austria and France, Beethoven became closely
connected with the French, with the Embassy and General Bernadotte,
who had just arrived in Vienna. In this intercourse strong republican
sympathies showed themselves in Beethoven, and these feelings became
stronger and stronger with time.

A sketch which Steinhauser made of him at this time gives a good idea
of his general appearance at this period. This portrait of Beethoven
is to later ones what Guérin's portrait of Napoleon is to the other
effigies. Guérin's face is rugged, almost savage, and wasted with
ambition. Beethoven looks very young for his age, thin and straight,
very stiff in his high cravat, a defiant, strained look in his eyes; he
knows his own worth and is confident of his power. In 1796 he wrote in
his notebook, "Courage! in spite of all my bodily weakness my genius
shall yet triumph.... Twenty-five years! that is my age now.... This
very year the man I am, must reveal himself entirely."[11] Both Madame
von Bernhard and Gelinck say that he was extremely proud with rough
and clumsy ways and spoke with a strong provincial accent. Only his
intimate friends knew what exquisite talent lay hidden under this rough
exterior. Writing to Wegeler about his successes, the first thought
that springs to his mind is the following: "for example, I meet a
friend in need; if my purse does not allow me to help him at once, I
have only to go to my work table, and in a short time I have removed
his trouble.... See how charming it is to do this."[12] And a little
further on, he says: "My art shall be devoted to no other object than
the relief of the poor" (_Dann soll meine Kunst sich nur zum Besten der
Armen zeigen_).

Trouble was already knocking at the door; it entered--never more to
leave him. Between 1796 and 1800, deafness began its sad work. He
suffered from continual singing and humming in his ears.[13] His
hearing became gradually weaker.

For several years he kept the secret to himself, even from his
dearest friends. He avoided company, so that his infliction should
not be noticed. But in 1801 he can no longer remain silent; and in
his despair he confides in two of his friends, Dr. Wegeler and Pastor
Amenda. "My dear, good, loving Amenda, how often have I longed to have
you near me! Your Beethoven is very unhappy. You must know that the
best part of me, my hearing, has become very weak. Even at the time
when we were together I was aware of distressing symptoms which I kept
to myself; but my condition is now much worse.... Can I ever be cured?
Naturally I hope so; but my hopes are very faint, for such maladies are
the least hopeful of all. How sad my life is! For I am obliged to avoid
all those I love and all that are dear to me; and all this in a world
so miserable and so selfish!... How sad is this resignation in which I
take refuge! Of course I have steeled myself to rise above all these
misfortunes. But how is this going to be possible?[14] ..." And to
Wegeler: " ... I lead a miserable life indeed. For the last two years
I have completely avoided all society, for I cannot talk with my
fellow-men. I am deaf. Had my profession been any other, things might
still be bearable; but as it is, my situation is terrible. What will my
enemies say? And they are not few!... At the theatre I always have to
be quite near the orchestra in order to understand the actor. I cannot
hear the high notes of the instruments or the voices, if I am but a
little distance off.... When anyone speaks quietly I only hear with
difficulty, ... On the other hand, I find it unbearable when people
shout to me.... Often I have cursed my very existence. Plutarch has
guided me to a spirit of resignation. If it be possible at all, I will
courageously bear with my fate; but there are moments in my life when I
feel the most miserable of all God's creatures.... Resignation! What a
sorry refuge! And yet it is the only one left to me!"

This tragic sadness is expressed in some of the works of this period,
in the _Sonate pathétique_ Op. 13 (1799), and especially in the _Largo_
of the Piano Sonata in D, Opus 10, No. 3 (1798). It is a marvel that we
do not find it in all the works; the radiant Septet (1800), the limpid
First Symphony (C Major, 1800), both breathe a spirit of youthful
gaiety. There is no doubt that he is determined to accustom his soul
to grief. The spirit of man has such a strong desire for happiness
that when it has it not, it is forced to create it. When the present
has become too painful, the soul lives on the past. Happy days are
not effaced at one stroke. Their radiance persists long after they
have gone. Alone and unhappy in Vienna, Beethoven took refuge in the
remembrances of his native land; his thoughts were always of Bonn. The
theme of the _Andante_ for the Variation in the _Septet_ is a Rhenish
Song. The Symphony in C Major is also inspired by the Rhine. It is a
poem of youth smiling over its own dreams. It is gay and languorous;
one feels there the hope and the desire of pleasing. But in certain
passages in the Introduction, in the shading of the sombre bass
passages of the _Allegro_, in this young composer, in the fantastic
_Scherzo_, one feels with emotion the promise of the great genius to
come. The expression calls to mind the eyes of Botticelli's _Bambino_
in his _Holy Families_--those eyes of a little child in which one
already divines the approaching tragedy.

Troubles of another kind were soon to be added to his physical
sufferings. Wegeler says that he never knew Beethoven to be free of a
love passion carried to extremes. These love affairs seemed to have
always been of the purest kind. With him there was no connection
between passion and pleasure. The confusion established between the
two things now-a-days only shows how little most men know of passion
and its extreme rarity. Beethoven had something of the Puritan in his
nature; licentious conversation and thoughts were abhorrent to him; he
had always unchangeable ideas on the sanctity of love.... It is said
that he could not forgive Mozart for having prostituted his genius by
writing _Don Giovanni_. Schindler, who was his intimate friend, assures
us that "he spent his life in virginal modesty without ever having to
reproach himself for any weakness." Such a man was destined to be the
dupe and victim of love; and so indeed it came about. He was always
falling violently in love and ceaselessly dreaming of its happiness,
only however to be deceived and to be plunged in the deepest suffering.
In these alternating states of love and passionate grief, of youthful
confidence and outraged pride, we find the most fruitful source of
Beethoven's inspiration, until at length his fiery, passionate nature
gradually calms down into melancholy resignation.

In 1801 the object of his passion appears to have been Giulietta
Guicciardi, whom he immortalised in the dedication of the famous
(so-called) "Moonlight" Sonata, Opus 27 (1802). "I now see things in
a better light," he writes to Wegeler, "and associate more with my
kind.... This change has been brought about by the charm of a dear
girl; she loves me and I love her. These are the first happy moments I
have had for two years."[15] He paid dearly for them. From the first,
this love made him feel more keenly the misery of the infirmity which
had overtaken him and the precarious conditions of his life which made
it impossible for him to marry the one he loved. Moreover, Giulietta
was a flirt, childish and selfish by nature; she made Beethoven suffer
most cruelly, and in November 1803, she married Count Gallenberg.[16]
Such passions devastate the soul; indeed, when the spirit is already
enfeebled by illness, as was Beethoven's, complete disaster is risked.
This was the only time in Beethoven's life when he seems to have been
on the point of succumbing. He passed the terrible crisis, however,
and the details are given in a letter known as the _Heiligenstadt
Testament_ to his brothers Carl and Johann, with the following
direction: "To be read and carried out after my death."[17] It is an
outcry of revolt, full of the most poignant grief. One cannot hear it
without being cut to the heart. In that dark hour he was on the verge of
suicide. Only his strong moral force saved him.[18] His final hopes of
recovering his health disappeared. "Even the lofty courage which has
hitherto sustained me has now disappeared. O Providence, grant that but
a single day of real happiness may be mine once again. I have been a
stranger to the thrill of joy for so long. When, O God, when shall I
feel joy once more?... Ever again? No, that would be too cruel!"

This is indeed a cry of a torn heart, and Beethoven was destined to
live yet twenty-five years longer. His powerful nature would not refuse
to sink beneath the weight of his woe. "My physical strength improves
always with the growth of my intellectual force.... Yes, I really feel
that my youth is only just beginning. Each day brings me nearer to my
goal, which I can feel without being able to define clearly.... O, if I
were only free from my deafness I would embrace the world!... No rest!
At least, none that I know of except sleep; and I am so unhappy that I
have to give more time to it than formerly. If only I could be free of
a part of my infirmity; and then ... no, I can bear it no longer. I
will wage war against destiny. It shall not overcome me completely. Oh,
how fine it would be to live a thousand lives in one!"[19]

This love of his, this suffering, this resignation, these alternations
of dejection and pride, these "soul-tragedies" are all reflected in
the great compositions written in 1802--the Sonata with the Funeral
March, Opus 26; the _Sonata quasi una Fantasia_, Opus 27, No. 1; the
Sonata called the "Moonlight," Opus 27; the Sonata in D Minor, Opus
31, No. 2, with its dramatic recitatives which seem like some grand
yet heart-broken monologue; the Sonata in C minor for Violin, Opus
30, dedicated to the Emperor Alexander; the Kreutzer Sonata, Opus 47;
and the Six Religious Songs, heroic yet grief-laden, to the words of
Gellert, Opus 48. The Second Symphony written in 1803 reflects rather
his youthful love; and here one feels that his will is decidedly
gaining the upper hand. An irresistible force sweeps away his sad
thoughts, a veritable bubbling over of life shows itself in the finale.
Beethoven was determined to be happy. He was not willing to believe his
misfortune hopeless, he wanted health, he wanted love, and he threw
aside despair.[20]

                   *       *       *       *       *

In many of his works one is struck by the powerful and energetic
march rhythms, full of the fighting spirit. This is especially
noticeable in the _Allegro_ and the _Finale_ of Second Symphony,
and still more in the first movement, full of superb heroism, of
the Violin Sonata dedicated to the Emperor Alexander. The war-like
character of this music recalls the period in which it was written.
The Revolution had reached Vienna. Beethoven was completely carried
away by it. "He spoke freely amongst his intimate friends," said the
Chevalier de Seyfried, "on political affairs, which he estimated
with unusual intelligence, with a clear and well-balanced out-look.
All his sympathies leaned towards revolutionary ideas." He liked the
Republican principles. Schindler, the friend who knew him best during
the last period of his life, said, "He was an upholder of unlimited
liberty and of national independence ... he desired that everyone
should take part in the government of the State.... For France he
desired universal suffrage and hoped that Bonaparte would establish
it, thus laying down the proper basis of human happiness." A Roman
of the revolutionary type, brought up on Plutarch, he dreamt of a
triumphant Republic, founded by the god of victory, the first Consul.
And blow by blow he forged the Eroica Symphony, Bonaparte, 1804,[21]
the _Iliad_ of Empire, and the Finale of the Symphony in C minor,
1805 to 1808, the grand epic of glory. This is really the first music
breathing the revolutionary feeling. The soul of the times lives again
in it with the intensity and purity which great events have for those
mighty and solitary souls who live apart and whose impressions are not
contaminated by contact with the reality. Beethoven's spirit reveals
itself, marked with stirring events, coloured by the reflections of
these great wars. Evidences of this, (perhaps unconscious to him)
crop up everywhere in the works of this period, in the _Coriolanus_
Overture (1807), where tempests roar over the scene; in the Fourth
Quartet, Opus 18, the first movement of which shows a close relation
to this Overture; in the _Sonata Appassionata_, Op. 57 (1804), of
which Bismarck said, "If I heard that often I should always be very
valiant";[22] in the score of _Egmont_; and even in his Pianoforte
Concertos, in the one in E flat, Opus 73 (1809), where even the
virtuosity is heroic: whole armies of warriors pass by. Nor need we
be astonished at this. Though when writing the Funeral March on the
death of an hero (Sonata, Opus 26), Beethoven was ignorant that the
hero most worthy of his music, namely Hoche, the one who approximated
more closely than Bonaparte to the model of the _Eroica Symphony_,
had just died near the Rhine, where indeed his tomb stands at the top
of a small hill between Coblentz and Bonn.... He had twice seen the
Revolution victorious in Vienna itself. French officers were present
at the first production of _Fidelio_ in Vienna in November, 1805. It
was General Hulin, the conqueror of the Bastille, who stayed with
Lobkovitz, Beethoven's friend and protector, to whom he dedicated the
Eroica and the C minor Symphony. And on 10 May, 1809, Napoleon slept at
Schönbrunn.[23]

                   *       *       *       *       *

Beethoven suddenly broke off the C minor Symphony to write the Fourth
Symphony at a single sitting without his usual sketches. Happiness
had come to him. In May 1806, he was betrothed to Theresa von
Brunswick.[24] She had loved him for a long time--ever since as a young
girl she had taken piano lessons from him during his first stay in
Vienna. Beethoven was a friend of her brother Count Franz. In 1806 he
stayed with them at Martonvasar in Hungary, and it was there that they
fell in love. The remembrance of these happy days is kept fresh by some
stories in some of Theresa's writings.[25] "One Sunday evening" she
says, "after dinner, with the moon shining into the room, Beethoven was
seated at the piano. At first he laid his hands flat on the keyboard.
Franz and I always understood this, for it was his usual preparation.
Then he struck some chords in the bass and slowly with an air of
solemnity and mystery drifted into a song of John Sebastian Bach: '_If
thou wilt give me thy heart, first let it be in secret, that our hearts
may commingle and no one divine it_.[26] My mother and the priest had
fallen asleep and my brother was dream gazing whilst I who understood
his song and his expression, felt life come to me in all its fullness.
The following morning we met in the park and he said to me, 'I am
now writing an opera; the principal character is in me and around me
wherever I go. Never before have I reached such heights of happiness; I
feel light, purity and splendour all around me and within. Until now I
have been like the child in the fairy story, picking up pebbles along
the road without seeing the beautiful flower blossoming close by.' ...
It was in May, 1806, that I became betrothed to him with the ready
consent of my dear brother Franz."

The _Fourth Symphony_ composed in this year is a pure fragrant flower
which treasures up the perfume of these days, the calmest in all his
life. It has been justly remarked that at this time "Beethoven's desire
was to reconcile his genius as far as possible with what was generally
known and admired in the forms handed down by his predecessors.[27]"

The same conciliating spirit springing from this love re-acted on
his manners and his way of living in general. Ignaz von Seyfried and
Grillparzar say that he was full of life, bright, happy and witty,
courteous in society, patient with tedious people and careful in his
dress. Even his deafness was not noticed, and they say that he was
in good health with the exception of his eyesight, which was rather
weak.[28] This strikes one in looking at Mahler's portrait of him
painted at this time, in which he is represented with an elegance
unusual for him and a romantic, even slightly affected look. Beethoven
wishes to please, and rather fancies himself in doing so. The lion is
in love; he draws in his claws. But one feels deep beneath under all
this playfulness, the imagination and tenderness of the Symphony in B
flat, the tremendous force, the capricious humour and the passionate
temper of his nature.

This profound peace was not destined to last although love exercised
its soothing influence until 1810. Beethoven doubtless owed to it
the self-mastery which at this period enabled him to produce some of
the most perfect fruits of his genius; that great classical tragedy,
the Symphony in C minor and that delicious idyll of a summer's day:
the Pastoral Symphony, 1808.[29] The Sonata Appassionata, inspired by
Shakespeare's _Tempest_,[30] the Sonata which he himself regarded as
his most powerful one, appeared in 1807 and was dedicated to Theresa's
brother. To Theresa herself he dedicated the dreamy and fantastic
Sonata in F sharp, Opus 78 (1809). An undated letter[31] addressed to
his "Immortal Beloved" expresses the intensity of his love no less
strongly than does the _Sonata Appassionata_.

                                                       July (1801).

  "My Angel, my all, my very self.

  Just a few words to-day--and indeed in pencil (with thine). Only till
  to-morrow is my room definitely engaged. What an unworthy waste of
  time in such matters! Why this deep sorrow where necessity speaks? Can
  our love endure otherwise than through sacrifices, through restraint
  in longing? Canst thou help not being wholly mine? Can I, not being
  wholly thine? Oh! gaze at nature in all its beauty, and calmly accept
  the inevitable--love demands everything, and rightly so. Thus is it
  for me with thee, for thee with me, only thou so easily forgettest
  that I must live for myself and for thee. Were we wholly united, thou
  wouldst feel this painful fact as little as I should. My journey was
  terrible. I arrived here only yesterday morning at four o'clock, and
  as they were short of horses, the mail-coach selected another route;
  but what an awful road! At the last stage but one, I was advised not
  to travel by night; they warned me against the wood, but that only
  spurred me on, and I was wrong; the coach must needs break down,
  the road being dreadful, a swamp, a mere country road; without the
  postillions I had with me I should have stuck on the way. Esterhazi,
  by the ordinary road, met the same fate with eight horses as I with
  four--yet it gave me some pleasure, as successfully overcoming any
  difficulty always does. Now for a quick change from without to within;
  we shall probably soon see each other; besides, to-day I cannot tell
  thee what has been passing through my mind during the past few days
  concerning my life. Were our hearts closely united I should not do
  things of  this kind. My heart is full of the many things I have to
  say to thee. Ah! there are moments in which I feel that speech is
  powerless. Cheer up. Remain my true, my only treasure, my all!!! As I
  to thee. The gods must send the rest; what is in store for us must be
  and ought to be.

                                                   Thy faithful
                                                             LUDWIG."

It is difficult to divine what was the barrier which separated these
two from the consummation of their love. Was it the lack of fortune or
the difference in social position? Perhaps Beethoven rebelled against
the long period of probation which was imposed on him or resented
the humiliation of keeping his love secret for an indefinite period.
Perhaps, impulsive and afflicted as he was, a misanthrope too, he
caused his loved one to suffer without wishing it and gave himself up
to despair in consequence. The fact remains that the engagement was
broken off, although neither seems ever to have proved faithless.

Even to her last day (she lived till 1861) Theresa von Brunswick loved
Beethoven, and Beethoven was no less faithful. In 1816 he remarked,
"When I think of her my heart beats as violently as on the day when I
first saw her." To this year belong the six songs, Opus 98, which have
so touching and profound a feeling. They are dedicated "To the loved
one far away" (_An die ferne Geliebte_). He wrote in his notes, "My
heart overflows at the thought of her beautiful nature; and yet she is
not here, not near me!" Theresa had given her portrait to Beethoven,
inscribed, "To the rare genius, the great artist, the generous man.
T.B."[32] Once during the last year of his life a friend surprised
Beethoven alone, and found him holding this portrait and speaking to
himself through his tears: "Thou wert so lovely and great, so like to
an angel!" The friend withdrew, and returning a little later found
him at the piano, and said "To-day, my old friend, there are no black
looks on your face." Beethoven replied "It is because my good angel has
visited me." The wound was deep. "Poor Beethoven" he said to himself,
"there is no happiness for you in this world; only in the realms of the
ideal will you find strength to conquer yourself."[33]

In his notebook he wrote, "submission, complete submission to your
destiny. You can no longer live for yourself, only for others. For you
there is happiness only in your art. O God, give me strength to conquer
"myself"."...

                   *       *       *       *       *

Love then abandoned him. In 1810 he was once more alone; but joy had
come to him and the consciousness of his power. He was in the prime of
life. He gave himself up to his violent and wild moods regardless of
results, and certainly without care for the opinions of the world and
the usual conventions of life. What, indeed, had he to fear or to be
careful of? Gone are love and ambition. Strength and the joy of it, the
necessity for using it, almost abusing it, were left to him. "Power
constitutes the morality of men who distinguish themselves above the
ordinary." He returned to his neglect in matters of dress, and his
manners now became even freer than before. He knew that he had the
right to speak freely even to the greatest. "I recognise no sign of
superiority in mankind other than goodness," he writes on 17 July,
1812.[34] Bettina Brentano, who saw him at that time, says that "no
king or emperor was ever so conscious of his power." She was fascinated
by his very strength. "When I saw him for the first time," she wrote to
Goethe, "the whole exterior world vanished from me. Beethoven made me
forget the world, and even you, O Goethe.... I do not think I am wrong
in saying this man is very far ahead of modern civilisation." Goethe
attempted to make Beethoven's acquaintance.[35]

They met at a Bohemian spa, Töplitz, in 1812, but did not agree well.
Beethoven passionately admired Goethe's genius; but his own character
was too free and too wild not to wound the susceptibilities of Goethe.
Beethoven himself has told us of this walk which they took together, in
the course of which the haughty republican gave the courtly councillor
of the Grand-duke of Weimar a lesson in dignity which he never forgot.

  "Kings and princes can easily make professors and privy councillors;
  they can bestow titles and decorations, but they cannot make great
  men, or minds which rise above the base turmoil of this world ... and
  when two men are together such as Goethe and myself these fine
  gentlemen must be made conscious of the difference between ourselves
  and them. Yesterday, as we were returning home on foot, we met the
  whole of the Imperial family. We saw them approaching from a distance.
  Goethe let go my arm to take his stand by the road side with the
  crowd. It was in vain that I talked to him. Say what I would I could
  not get him to move a single step. I drew my hat down upon my head,
  buttoned up my overcoat, and forced my way through the throng. Princes
  and  courtiers stood aside. Duke Rudolph raised his hat to me, the
  Empress bowing to me first. The great of the earth know me and
  recognise me. I amused myself in watching the procession pass by
  Goethe. He remained on the road side bowing low, hat in hand. I took
  him to task for it pretty severely and did not spare him at all."[36]

Nor did Goethe forget the scene.[37]

In 1812 the Seventh and Eighth Symphonies were written during a
stay of several months at Töplitz. These works are veritable orgies
of rhythm and humour; in them he is perhaps revealing himself in
his most natural and as he styled it himself, most "unbuttoned"
(_aufgeknöpft_) moods, transports of gaiety contrasting unexpectedly
with storms of fury and disconcerting flashes of wit followed by those
Titanic explosions which terrified both Goethe and Zelter[38] and
caused the remark in North Germany that the _Symphony in A_ was the
work of a drunkard. The work of an inebriated man indeed it was, but
one intoxicated with power and genius; one who said of himself, "I
am the Bacchus who crushes delicious nectar for mankind. It is I who
give the divine frenzy to men." Wagner wrote, "I do not know whether
Beethoven wished to depict a Dionysian orgy[39] in the Finale of his
Symphony, though I recognise in this passionate _kermesse_ a sign of
his Flemish origin, just as we see it likewise in his bold manner of
speech and in his bearing so free and so utterly out of harmony with
a country ruled by an iron discipline and rigid etiquette. Nowhere is
there greater frankness or freer power than in the _Symphony in A_. It
is a mad outburst of superhuman energy, with no other object than for
the pleasure of unloosing it like a river overflowing its banks and
flooding the surrounding country. In the Eighth Symphony the power is
not so sublime, though it is still more strange and characteristic of
the man, mingling tragedy with farce and a Herculean vigour with the
games and caprices of a child."[40]

The year 1814 marks the summit of Beethoven's fortunes. At the Vienna
Congress he enjoyed European fame. He took an active part in the
fêtes, princes rendered him homage, and (as he afterwards boasted to
Schindler) he allowed himself to be courted by them. He was carried
away by his sympathy with the War of Independence.[41] In 1813 he
wrote a Symphony on _Wellington's Victory_ and in the beginning of
1814 a martial chorus, _Germany's Rebirth_ (_Germanias Wiedergeburt_).
On November 29th, 1814, he conducted before an audience of kings a
patriotic Cantata, _The Glorious Moment_ (_Der glorreiche Augenblick_),
and on the occasion of the capture of Paris in 1815 he composed a
Chorus, _It is accomplished_ (_Es ist vollbracht_). These occasional
pieces did more to spread his fame than all the rest of his music
together. The engraving by Blasius Hofel from a sketch by the
Frenchman Latronne and the savage-looking cast by Franz Klein in 1812
present a life-like image of Beethoven at the time of the Congress
of Vienna. The dominating characteristic of this leonine face with
its firm set jaws scored with the furrows of anger and trouble, is
determination--a Napoleonic will. One recognises the man who said of
Napoleon after Jena, "How unfortunate that I do not know as much about
warfare as music! I would show myself his master." But his kingdom was
not of this world. "My empire is in the air," he wrote to Franz von
Brunswick.[42]

                   *       *       *       *       *

After this hour of glory comes the saddest and most miserable period.
Vienna had never been sympathetic to Beethoven. Haughty and bold genius
as he was, he could not be at ease in this frivolous city with its
mundane and its mediocre spirit, which Wagner laughed to scorn later
on.[43] He lost no opportunities of going away; and towards 1808
he thought seriously of leaving Austria to go to the court of Jerome
Bonaparte, King of Westphalia.[44] But Vienna had abundant musical
resources; and one must do it justice by saying that there were always
noble _dilettanti_ who felt the grandeur of Beethoven, and who spared
their country the shame of losing him. In 1809, three of the richest
noblemen of Vienna, the Archduke Rudolph, a pupil of Beethoven, Prince
Lobkovitz and Prince Kinsky undertook to pay him annually a pension
of 4,000 florins on the sole condition that he remained in Austria.
"As it is evident," they said, "that a man can only devote himself
entirely to art when he is free from all material care, and that it
is only then that he can produce such sublime works which are the
glory of art, the undersigned have formed a resolution to release
Ludwig van Beethoven from the shadow of need, and thus disperse the
miserable obstacles which are so detrimental to his flights of genius."
Unhappily the results did not come up to the promises. The pension
was always very irregularly paid; soon it ceased altogether. Also
Vienna had very much changed in character after the Congress of 1814.
Society was distracted from art by politics. Musical taste was spoilt
by Italianism, and the fashionable people favoured Rossini, treating
Beethoven as pedantic.[45] Beethoven's friends and protectors went
away or died: Prince Kinsky in 1812, Lichnovsky in 1814, Lobkovitz in
1816. Rasumowsky, for whom he had written the three admirable Quartets,
Opus 59, gave his last concert in February, 1815. In 1815 Beethoven
quarrelled with Stephen von Breuning, the friend of his childhood, the
brother of Eleonore.[46] From this time he was alone.[47] "I have no
friends. I am alone in the world" he wrote in his notebook of 1816.

His deafness became complete.[48] After the autumn of 1815 he
could only communicate with his friends by writing.[49] The oldest
conversation-book is dated 1816.[50] There is a sad story recorded
by Schindler with regard to the representation of _Fidelio_ in 1822.
"Beethoven wanted to conduct the general rehearsal.... From the duet of
the First Act, it was evident that he could hear nothing of what was
going on. He kept back the pace considerably; and whilst the orchestra
followed his beat, the singer hurried the time. There followed general
confusion. The usual leader of the orchestra, Umlauf, suggested a
short rest, without giving any reason; and after exchanging a few
words with the singers, they began again. The same disorder broke out
afresh. Another interval was necessary. The impossibility of continuing
under Beethoven's direction was evident; but how could they make
him understand? No one had the heart to say to him, 'Go away, poor
unfortunate one, you cannot conduct.' Beethoven, uneasy and agitated,
turned from side to side, trying to read the expression of the
different faces, and to understand what the difficulty was: a silence
came over all. Suddenly he called me in his imperious manner. When I
was quite near to him, he handed me his pocket-book, and made signs to
me to write. I put down these words:

'I beg you not to continue; I will explain why at your house.'
With one leap he jumped from the platform, saying to me, 'Let us go
quickly.' He ran straight to his house, went in and threw himself down
on a sofa, covering his face with his hands; he remained like that
until dinner-time. At the table it was impossible to draw a word from
him; he wore an expression of complete despondency and profound grief.
After dinner when I wanted to leave him, he kept me, expressing a
desire not to be left alone. When we separated he asked me to go with
him to his doctor, who had a great reputation for complaints of the
ear. During the whole of my connection with Beethoven I do not know of
any day which can compare with this awful day of November. He had been
smitten to the heart, and until the day of his death, he retained the
impression of this terrible scene."[51]

Two years later, on 7 May, 1824, when conducting the _Choral Symphony_
(or rather, as the programme said, "taking part in the direction of
the concert") he heard nothing at all of the clamour of the audience
applauding him. He did not even suspect it, until one of the singers,
taking him by the hand turned him round; and he suddenly saw the
audience waving their hats and clapping their hands. An English
traveller, Russell, who saw him at the piano about the year 1825, says
that when he wanted to play quietly the notes did not sound and that
it was very moving to follow in silence the emotion animating him
expressed in his face, and in the movements of his fingers. Buried in
himself,[52] and separated from all mankind, his only consolation was
in Nature. "She was his sole confident," says Theresa of Brunswick,
"she was his refuge." Charles Neate, who knew him in 1815, says that he
never saw anyone who loved flowers, clouds and nature so devotedly[53];
he seemed to live in them. "No one on earth can love the country so
much as I," wrote Beethoven. "I love a tree more than a man." When in
Vienna he walked round the ramparts every day. In the country from
daybreak till night he walked alone, without hat, in sunshine or rain.
"Almighty God! In the woods I am happy, happy in the woods, where each
tree speaks through Thee. O God, what splendour! In the forests, on the
hills, it is the calm, the quiet, that helps me."

His unrestfulness of mind found some respite there.[54] He was harassed
by financial cares. He wrote in 1818, "I am almost reduced to beggary,
and I am obliged to pretend that I do not lack necessities"; and at
another time, "The _Sonata Op. 106_ has been written under pressing
circumstances. It is a hard thing to have to work for bread." Spohr
says that often he could not go out on account of his worn-out shoes.
He owed large debts to his publishers and his compositions did not
bring him in anything. The _Mass in D_, published by subscription,
obtained only seven subscribers (of whom not one was a musician).[55]
He received barely thirty or forty ducats for his fine Sonatas,
each one of which cost him three months' work. The Quartets, _Opp._
127, 130, and 132, amongst his profoundest works, which seem to be
written with his very heart-blood, were written for Prince Galitzin,
who neglected to pay for them. Beethoven was worn out with domestic
difficulties, and with endless law suits to obtain the pensions owing
to him or to retain the guardianship of a nephew, the son of his
brother Carl, who died of consumption in 1815.

He had bestowed on this child all the care and devotion with which his
heart overflowed. But he was repaid with cruel suffering. It seemed
that a kind of special fate had taken care to renew ceaselessly and to
accumulate his miseries in order that his genius should not lack for
food. At first he had a dispute over Carl with his mother, who wanted
to take him away. "O, my God," he cried, "my shield and my defence, my
only refuge! Thou readest the depths of my soul and Thou knowest the
griefs that I experience when I have to cause suffering to those who
want to dispute my Carl, my treasure.[56] Hearken unto me, Great Being,
that I know not how to name. Grant the fervent prayer of the most
unhappy of Thy creatures!"

"O God, aid me! Thou wilt not leave me entirely in the hands of
men; because I do not wish to make a covenant with injustice! Hear
the prayer which I make to Thee, that at least for the future I may
live with my Carl!... O cruel fate, implacable destiny! No, no, my
unhappiness will never end!"

Then this nephew, so passionately loved, proved unworthy of the
confidence of his uncle. The correspondence between Beethoven and him
is sad and revolting, like that of Michael Angelo with his brothers,
but more simple and touching.

"Am I to be repaid once again with the most abominable ingratitude?
Ah, well, if the bond must be broken, so be it! All impartial people
who hear of it will hate you. If the compact between us weighs too
heavily, in the name of God, may it be according to His will! I abandon
you to Providence; I have done all that I could; I am ready to appear
before the Supreme Judge!

"Spoilt as you are, that should not make it difficult to teach you to
be simple and true; my heart has suffered so much by your hypocritical
conduct, and it is difficult for me to forget.... God is my witness, I
only long to be a thousand miles from you and from that sorry brother
and from this abominable family.... I shall never more have confidence
in you." And he signed "Unhappily your father--or rather, not your
father." But pardon came almost immediately.

"My dear son! No more of this! Come to my arms. You shall not hear one
harsh word. I will receive you with the same love. We will talk over
what is to be done for your future in a friendly manner. On my word
of honour there will be no reproach. That would do no good. You have
nothing to expect from me but sympathy and the most loving care. Come,
come to the faithful heart of your father. Come immediately you receive
this letter, come to the house." (And on the envelope in French, "If
you do not come, you will surely kill me.")

"Do not deceive me," he begged, "be always my beloved son. What a
horrible discord it would be if you were to be false to me, as many
persons maintain that you already are.... Good-bye, he who has not
given you life but who has certainly preserved it, and who has taken
all possible care with your moral development, with an affection
more than paternal, begs you from the bottom of his heart to follow the
only true path of the good and the just.

                                    Your faithful foster-father."[57]

After having cherished all kinds of dreams for the future of this
nephew, who was not lacking in intelligence and whom he wished to take
up a University career, Beethoven had to consent to make a merchant
of him. But Carl frequented gambling dens and contracted debts. By a
sad phenomenon, more frequent than one believes, the moral grandeur of
his uncle, instead of doing him good, made him worse. It exasperated
him, impelling him to revolt, as he said in those terrible words where
his miserable soul appears so plainly, "I have become worse because
my uncle wished me to do better." He reached such a state that in the
summer of 1826 he shot himself in the head with a pistol. He did not
die from it, but it was Beethoven who just missed dying. He never
recovered from this terrible fright.[58] Carl recovered; he lived to
the end to cause suffering to his uncle, whose death he hastened in no
slight measure. Nor was he with him at the hour of his death. "God has
never abandoned me," wrote Beethoven to his nephew, some years before.
"He will find someone to close my eyes." This was not to be the one
whom he called "his son."[59]

                 *       *       *       *       *

It was from the depth of this abyss that Beethoven undertook to chant
his immortal _Ode to Joy_. It was the plan of his whole life. As early
as 1793, he had thought of it at Bonn.[60] All his life he wished to
celebrate Joy; and to make it the climax of one of his great works. He
was always striving to find the exact form of the Hymn, and the work
where he could place it. He was far from being decided, even in his
_Ninth Symphony_.

Until the very last moment, he was on the point of putting off the
_Ode to Joy_ to a _Tenth_ or _Eleventh Symphony_. One ought to notice
that the _Ninth Symphony_ is not entitled _Choral Symphony_, but as
it is now invariably called, _Symphony with a Final Chorus on the Ode
to Joy_. It narrowly missed having another conclusion. In July, 1823,
Beethoven still thought of giving it an instrumental _finale_, which
he used later on for the quartet Op: 132. Both Czerny and Sonnleithner
say that even after the performance in May, 1824, Beethoven had not
abandoned this idea.

He found great technical difficulties in introducing the Chorus into
the Symphony, as is shown by Beethoven's note-books and his numerous
attempts to make the voices enter at another part of the work and in
a different manner. In the sketches for the second subject of the
_Adagio_[61] he wrote "Perhaps the Chorus could enter conveniently
here." But he could not decide to part from his faithful orchestra.
"When an idea comes to me," he said, "I hear it on an instrument, never
on a voice." So he put back the place for employing voices as late
as possible. At first he wanted to give the instruments not only the
_recitatives_ of the _Finale_[62] but even the Theme of Joy itself.

But we must go still further into the reason of these hesitations and
delays. The explanation is very deep. Continually tormented by grief,
this unfortunate man had always aspired to sing the excellence of Joy;
and from year to year he put off his task, held back ceaselessly by the
whirlwind of his passion and grief. It was only at the very last that
he succeeded. But with what a success!

At the moment when the Theme of Joy appears for the first time, the
orchestra stops abruptly, thus giving a sudden unexpected character
to the entrance of the Song. And this is a true touch; this theme is
rightly divine. Joy descends from heaven enveloped in a supernatural
calm; it soothes the suffering with its cool breath; and the first
impression that it makes, is so tender as it steals into the sorrowing
heart, that a friend of Beethoven has said "One feels inclined to weep,
as one looks into those soft, calm eyes of his." When the Theme passes
first to the voices, it is the Basses who present it first with a
solemn and rather weighty character. But, little, by little, Joy takes
possession of us. It is a real battle, a fight with sorrow. We can
hear the rhythms of marching, the armies moving. In the ardent panting
song of the tenor, in all these quivering pages we can almost feel
the breath of Beethoven himself, the rhythm of his breathing and his
inspired cries as he wandered across the fields, composing the work,
transported by a demoniacal fury, like King Lear in the middle of a
storm. After the war-like joy comes religious Ecstasy. Then follows a
sacred orgy, a very delirium of love. A whole trembling humanity lifts
its arms to the sky, utters powerful outcries, rushes forth towards
this Joy and clasps it to the heart.

This Titanic work overcame the indifference of the public. The
frivolous crowds of Vienna were moved for an instant, but they still
favoured Rossini and his Italian operas. Humiliated and saddened,
Beethoven was on the point of going to live in London and thought of
giving his _Ninth Symphony_ there. A second time, as in 1809, some
noble friends sent him a petition asking that he would not leave the
country. They said "We know that you have written a new composition
of sacred music[63] in which you have expressed sentiments inspired
by your profound faith. The supernatural light which penetrates your
great soul illumines the work. We know besides that the garland of
your inspired symphonies has been increased by an immortal flower....
Your absence during these last years has troubled all those whose eyes
are turned to you.[64] Everyone sadly thought that the man of genius
placed so high amongst living beings remained silent whilst another
kind of foreign art sought to plant itself in our country, causing the
productions of German art to be forgotten.... From you only, the
nation awaits new life, new laurels, and a new reign of truth and
beauty, despite the fashion of the day.... Give us the hope of soon
seeing our desires satisfied. And then the springtime which is coming
will blossom again doubly, thanks to your gifts to us and to the
world!"[65] This noble address shews what power, not only artistic but
also moral, Beethoven exercised over the _élite_ of Germany. The first
word which occurs to his followers who wish to praise his genius is
neither science, nor art; it is _faith_.[66]

Beethoven was deeply moved by these words. He stayed. On May 7th, 1824,
the first performance in Vienna of the _Mass in D_ and the _Ninth
Symphony_ took place. The success was amazing; and his greeting almost
of a seditious character for when Beethoven appeared he was accorded
five rounds of applause; whereas according to the strict etiquette of
the city, it was the custom to give three only for the entrance of the
Royal Family. The police had to put an end to the manifestations. The
Symphony raised frantic enthusiasm. Many wept. Beethoven fainted with
emotion after the concert; he was taken to Schindler's house where
he remained asleep all the night and the following morning, fully
dressed, neither eating nor drinking. The triumph was only fleeting,
however, and the concert brought in nothing for Beethoven. His material
circumstances of life were not changed by it. He found himself poor,
ill,[67] alone but a conquerer[68]: conqueror of the mediocrity
of mankind, conqueror of his destiny, conqueror of his suffering.
"Sacrifice, always sacrifice the trifles of life to art! God is over
all!"

                 *       *       *       *       *

He had then completed the object of his whole life. He had tasted
perfect Joy. Would he be able to rest on this triumph of the soul which
ruled the tempest? Certainly he ought to feel the relief from the days
of his past anguish. Indeed his last quartets are full of strange
forebodings. But it seems that the victory of the _Ninth Symphony_ had
left its glorious traces in its nature. The plans which he had for
the future:[69] the _Tenth_ _Symphony_,[70] the overture on the name
of BACH, the music for Grillparzer's _Melusina_,[71] for Körner's
_Odyssey_ and Goethe's _Faust_,[72] the Biblical oratorio of _Saul and
David_, all shew that he was attracted by the mighty serenity of the
old German masters--Bach and Handel--and more still to the light of the
South--the South of France or Italy, where he hoped to travel.[73]

Dr. Spiker, who saw him in 1826, said that his face had become
smiling and jovial. The same year when Grillparzer spoke to him
for the last time, it was Beethoven who had more energy than the
worn-out poet: "Ah!" said the latter, "if I had a thousandth part of
your strength and determination." Times were hard; the monarchial
reaction oppressed their spirits. "The censors have killed me,"
groaned Grillparzer. "One must go to North America if one wishes to
speak freely." But no power could put a stop to Beethoven's thoughts.
"Words are bound in chains, but, happily, sounds are still free," he
wrote to the poet Kuffner. Beethoven's is the great voice of freedom,
perhaps the only one then of the whole of German thought. He felt it.
Often he spoke of the duty which was imposed on him to act by means
of his art "for poor humanity, for humanity to come, to restore its
courage and to shake off its lassitude and cowardice." "At the present
time," he wrote to his nephew, "there is need for mighty spirits to
lash into action these wretched rebellious human souls." Dr. Müller
said in 1827 that "Beethoven always expressed himself freely on the
subjects of government, the police, the aristocracy, even in public.
The police knew him but they looked on his criticisms and satires as
harmless fancies, and they did not care to interfere with the man whose
genius had such an extraordinary reputation."[74] Thus nothing was
able to break this indomitable will. It seemed now to make sport of
grief. The music written in these last years, in spite of the painful
circumstances under which it was composed,[75] has often quite a new,
ironical character of heroic and joyous disdain. The very last piece
that he finished, the new _Finale_ to the _Quartet, Op. 130_, is very
gay. This was in November 1826, four months before his death. In truth
this gaiety is not of the usual kind; for at times it is the harsh and
spasmodic laughter of which Moscheles speaks; often it is the affecting
smile, the result of suffering conquered. It matters not; he is the
conqueror. He does not believe in death.

It came, however. At the end of November, 1826, he caught a chill
which turned to pleurisy: he was taken ill in Vienna when returning
from a journey undertaken in winter to arrange for the future of his
nephew.[76] He was far from his friends.

He told his nephew to go for a doctor. The wretch forgot his
commission and only remembered two days after. The doctor came too
late and treated Beethoven unskillfully. For three months his iron
constitution fought against the illness. On January 3rd, 1827, he
made his well-loved nephew his chief executor. He thought of his dear
friends on the Rhine; he wrote again to Wegeler: "How I would like
to talk with you! But I am too weak. I can do no more than embrace
you in my heart, you and your Lorchen." Poverty would have made his
last moments more gloomy, had it not been for the generosity of some
English friends. He had become very gentle and very patient.[77] On his
death-bed on February 17th, 1827, after three operations and awaiting
a fourth,[78] he wrote with perfect calmness, "I am patient and I
think that all misfortune brings some blessing with it." This boon
was deliverance--"the end of the comedy," as he said when dying. We
might say rather the end of the _tragedy_.... He died in the climax of
a violent storm, a tempest of snow, heavily punctuated with terrible
thunder claps. A strange hand closed his eyes,[79] March 26th, 1827.

                 *       *       *       *       *

Beloved Beethoven! So many others have praised his artistic grandeur.
But he is easily the first of musicians. He is the most heroic soul
in modern art. He is the grandest and the best friend of those who
suffer and struggle. When we are saddened by worldly miseries, it is he
who comes near to us, as he used to go and play to a mother in grief,
and without uttering a word thus console her by the song of his own
plaintive resignation. And when we are utterly exhausted in the eternal
battle uselessly waged against mediocrity, vice and virtue, it is an
unspeakable boon to find fresh strength in this great ocean-torrent
of strong will and faith. An atmosphere of courage emanates from his
personality, a love of battle,[80] the exultation of a conscious
feeling of the _God within_. It seems that in his constant communion
with nature[81] he had ended by assimilating its deep and mighty
powers. Grillparzer, who admired Beethoven with a kind of awe, said
of him, "He penetrated into regions where art melts away and unites
with the wild and capricious elements." Schumann wrote similarly of
his _Symphony in C minor_: "Every time it is performed it exercises an
unvarying power on us, like natural phenomena which fill us with awe
and amazement every time they occur." And Schindler, his confidential
friend, says, "He possessed the spirit of nature." It is true,
"Beethoven is a force of nature; and this battle of elemental power
against the rest of nature is a spectacle of truly Homeric grandeur."

His whole life is like a stormy day. At the beginning--a fresh clear
morning, perhaps a languid breeze, scarcely a breath of air. But there
is already in the still air a secret menace, a dark foreboding. Large
shadows loom and pass; tragic rumblings; murmuring awesome silences;
the furious gusts of the winds of the _Eroica_ and the _C minor_.
However, the freshness of the day is not yet gone. Joy remains joy;
the brightness of the sky is not overcast; sadness is never without
a ray of hope. But after 1810 the poise of the soul is disturbed. A
strange light glows. Mists obscure his deepest thoughts; some of
the clearer thoughts appear as vapour rising; they disappear, are
dispelled, yet form anew; they obscure the heart with their melancholy
and capricious gloom; often the musical idea seems to vanish entirely,
to be submerged, but only to re-appear again at the end of a piece in
a veritable storm of melody. Even joy has assumed a rough and riotous
character. A bitter feeling becomes mingled in all his sentiments.[82]
Storms gather as evening comes on. Heavy clouds are big with tempests.
Lightning flashes o'er the black of night. The climax of the hurricane
is approaching. Suddenly, at the height of the tempest, the darkness
is dispersed. Night is driven away and the clear, tranquil atmosphere
is restored by a sheer act of will power. What a conquest was this!
What Napoleonic battle can be likened to it? What was Austerlitz glory
to the radiance of this superhuman effort, this victory, the most
brilliant that has ever been won by an infirm and lonely spirit. Sorrow
personified, to whom the world refused joy, created joy himself to give
to the world. He forged it from his own misery, as he proudly said in
reviewing his life. And indeed it was the motto of his whole heroic
soul:

                         JOY THROUGH SUFFERING
               (To Countess Erdödy, October 19th, 1815).

                 *       *       *       *       *

                              FOOTNOTES:

[1] J. Russell (1822). Charles Czerny who, when a child, saw him in
1801 with a beard of several days' growth, hair bristling, wearing a
waistcoat and trousers of goats' wool, thought he had met Robinson
Crusoe.

[2] The painter Kloeber's remark, when he painted his portrait about
1818.

[3] Dr. W. C. Müller observed particularly "his fine eloquent eyes
sometimes so kind and tender, at other times so wild, threatening and
awe inspiring" (1820).

[4] Kloeber said "Ossian's." All these details are taken from notes of
Beethoven's friends, or from travellers who saw him, such as Czerny,
Moscheles, Kloeber, Daniel Amadeus Atterbohm, W. C. Müller, J. Russel,
Julius Benedict, Rochlitz, etc.

[5] His grandfather, Ludwig, the most remarkable man of the family and
whom Beethoven most resembled, was born at Antwerp, and only settled at
Bonn in his twentieth year when he became choir master to the Prince
Elector. We must not forget this fact to understand properly the
passionate independence of Beethoven's nature and so many other traits
which are not really German in his character.

[6] Letter to Dr. Schade at Augsburg, 15th September, 1787.

[7] Later on, in 1816, he said: "He is a poor man who does not know how
to die! I myself knew, when I was but fifteen."

[8] We quote from several of these letters in a later part of the book,
pages 65, _et seq._

[9] To Wegeler, 29th June, 1801.

[10] He had already made a short stay there, in the spring of 1787.
On that occasion he met Mozart who, however, took little notice of
him. Haydn, whose acquaintance he made at Bonn in December, 1790, gave
him some lessons. Beethoven also had for masters, Albrechtsberger and
Salieri. The first-named taught him Counterpoint and Fugue, the second
trained him in vocal writing.

[11] It can hardly be called his début, for his first Concert in Vienna
had taken place on 30th March, 1795.

[12] To Wegeler, 29th June, 1801 (Nohl 14). "None of my friends shall
want whilst I have anything," he wrote to Ries about 1801.

[13] In his Will and Testament of 1802, Beethoven says that his
deafness first appeared six years before--very likely in 1796. Let us
notice in passing that in the catalogue of his works, Opus one alone
(Three Trios) was written before 1796. Opus 2, the first three Piano
Sonatas appeared in March, 1796. It may, therefore, be said that the
whole of Beethoven's work is that of a deaf man.

See the article on Beethoven's deafness by Dr. Klotz Forest in the
"Medical Chronicle" of 15th May, 1905. The writer of the article
believes that the complaint had its origin in a general hereditary
affliction (perhaps in the phthisis of his mother). The deafness
increased without ever becoming total. Beethoven heard low sounds
better than high ones. In his last years it is said that he used a
wooden rod, one end of which was placed in the piano sound-box, the
other between his teeth. He used this means of hearing when he composed.

(On the same question see C. G. Cunn: _Wiener medizinische
Wochenschrift_, February-March, 1892; Nagel: _Die Musik_ (15th March,
1902); Theodor von Frimmel: _Der Merker_, July, 1912).

There are preserved in the Beethoven museum at Bonn the acoustical
instruments made for Beethoven, about 1814, by the mechanician Maelzel.

[14] I have translated these extracts from M. Rolland's text. Mr.
Shedlock's translation from the original German may be seen on pages 65
_et seq._--B.C.H.

[15] To Wegeler, 16 November, 1801.

[16] She was not afraid either of boasting of her old love for
Beethoven in preference to that for her husband. Beethoven helped
Gallenberg. "He was my enemy; that is the very reason why I should do
all possible for him," he told Schindler on one of his conversation
note-books in 1821. But he scorned to take advantage of the position.
"Having arrived in Vienna," he wrote in French, "she sought me out and
came weeping to me, but I rejected her."

[17] 6th October, 1802 (see page 57).

[18] "Bring up your children to be virtuous. That alone can make them
happy; money will not. I speak from experience. It is that which
sustained me in my misery. Virtue and Art alone have saved me from
taking my own life." And in another letter, 2nd May, 1810, to Wegeler:
"If I had not read somewhere that a man ought not to take his own life
so long as he can still do a kind action, I should long ago have ended
my existence, and doubtless by my own hand."

[19] To Wegeler.

[20] Hornemann's miniature, of 1802, represents Beethoven dressed in
the fashion of the day with side whiskers, long hair, the tragic air of
one of Byron's heroes, but with the firm Napoleonic look which never
gives way.

[21] It is a fact that the Eroica Symphony was written for and around
Bonaparte, and the first MS. still bears the title, "Bonaparte."
Afterwards Beethoven learnt of the Coronation of Napoleon. Breaking
out into a fury, he cried: "He is only an ordinary man"; and in his
indignation he tore off the dedication and wrote the avenging and
touching title: _Sinfonia Eroica composta per festeggiare il souvenire
di un grand Uomo_. (Heroic Symphony composed to celebrate the memory of
a great man). Schindler relates that later on his scorn for Napoleon
became more subdued; he saw in him rather the unfortunate victim
of circumstances worthy of pity, an Icarus flung down from Heaven.
When he heard of the St. Helena catastrophe in 1821, he remarked: "I
composed the music suitable for this sad event some seventeen years
ago." It pleased him to recognise in the Funeral March of his Symphony
a presentiment of the conqueror's tragic end. There was then probably
in the _Eroica Symphony_ and especially in the first movement, a kind
of portrait of Bonaparte in Beethoven's mind, doubtless very different
from the real man, and rather what he imagined him to be or would have
liked him to be--the genius of the Revolution. Beethoven, in the Finale
of the Eroica Symphony, used again one of the chief phrases of the work
he had already written on the revolutionary hero par excellence, the
god of liberty, Prometheus, 1801.

[22] Robert de Keudell, German Ambassador in Rome: _Bismarck and his
family_, 1901. Robert de Keudell played this Sonata to Bismarck on
an indifferent piano on 30th October, 1870, at Versailles. Bismarck
remarked regarding the latter part of the work: "The sighs and
struggles of a whole life are in this music." He preferred Beethoven
to all other composers, and more than once affirmed "Beethoven's music
more than any other soothes my nerves."

[23] Beethoven's house was situated near those fortifications of
Vienna which Napoleon had blown up after the taking of the city.
"What an awful life, with ruins all around me," wrote Beethoven to
the publishers, Breitkopf & Härtel, on 26th June, 1809, "nothing but
drums, trumpets, and misery of every kind." A portrait of Beethoven at
this time has been left to us by a Frenchman who saw him in Vienna in
1809, Baron Trémont, of the Council of State. It gives a picturesque
description of the disorder in Beethoven's room. They talked together
of philosophy, religion, politics, and "especially of Shakespeare."
Beethoven was very much inclined to follow Trémont to Paris, where he
knew they had already performed his Symphonies at the Conservatoire,
and there he had many enthusiastic admirers. (See _Mercure Musical_, 1
May, 1906, _Une visite à Beethoven_, by Baron Trémont, published by J.
Chantavoine).

[24] Or to be more exact, Theresa Brunsvik. Beethoven had met the
Brunsviks at Vienna between 1796 and 1799. Giulietta Guicciardi was the
cousin of Theresa. Beethoven seems also to have been attracted at one
period by one of Theresa's sisters, Josephine, who first married Count
Deym, and later on, the Baron Stackelberg. Some very striking details
on the Brunsvik family are found in an article by M. André de Hevesy.
_Beethoven et l'Immortelle Bien-aimée_ (_Revue de Paris_, March 1 and
15, 1910). For this study M. de Hevesy has made use of the MS. Memoires
and the papers of Theresa, which were preserved at Martonvasar in
Hungary. They all show an affectionate intimacy between Beethoven and
the Brunsviks, and raise again the question of his love for Theresa.
But the arguments are not convincing, and I leave them to be discussed
at some future time.

[25] Marian Tanger: _Beethovens unsterbliche Geliebte_ (Beethoven's
undying Love), Bonn, 1890.

[26] _Wilst du dein Herz mir schenken_ (_Aria di Govannini_), Edition
Peters, 2071. This beautiful air appears in the album which Bach wrote
for his wife, Anna Magdalena.

[27] Nohl: _Life of Beethoven_.

[28] Beethoven was really short-sighted. Ignaz von Seyfried says that
this was caused by smallpox, and that he was obliged to wear spectacles
when quite young. This short-sightedness would probably exaggerate
the wild expression of his eyes. His letters between 1823-4 contain
frequent complaints on the subject of his eyes which were often
painful. See the articles by Christian Kalischer on this subject,
_Beethovens Augens und Augenleiden_ (_Die Musik_, 15th March--1st
April, 1902).

[29] The music for Goethe's play _Egmont_ was commenced in 1809.
Beethoven had also wished to write the music to William Tell, but
Gyrovetz was chosen before him.

[30] Conversation with Schindler.

[31] But written (so it seems) from Korompa at the Brunswick's house.

[32] This portrait can still be seen in Beethoven's house at Bonn. It
is reproduced in Frimmel's _Life of Beethoven_, page 29, and in the
"Musical Times," 15th December, 1892.

[33] To Gleichenstein.

[34] "The heart is the mainspring of all that is great" (to Giannatasio
del Rio).

[35] "Goethe's poems give me great happiness," he wrote to Bettina
Brentano on 19th February, 1811. And also "Goethe and Schiller are my
favourite poets, together with Ossian and Homer, whom, unfortunately,
I can only read in translations." To Breitkopf & Härtel, 8th August,
1809, Nohl, _New Letters_, LIII.

It is remarkable that Beethoven's taste in literature was so sound in
view of his neglected education. In addition to Goethe, who he said
was "grand, majestic, always in D major" (and more than Goethe) he
loved three men, Homer, Plutarch and Shakespeare. Of Homer's works he
preferred the _Odyssey_ to the _Iliad_; he was continually reading
Shakespeare (from a German translation) and we know with what tragic
grandeur he has set _Coriolanus_ and the _Tempest_ in music. He read
Plutarch continually, as did all who were in favour of the revolution.
Brutus was his hero, as was also the case with Michael Angelo; he had
a small statue of him in his bedroom. He loved Plato, and dreamed of
establishing his republic in the whole world. "Socrates and Jesus have
been my models," he wrote once on his note-books (_Conversations during
1819 and 1820_).

[36] To Bettina von Arnim. The authenticity of Beethoven's letters to
Bettina, doubted by Schindler, Marx and Deiters, has been supported by
Moritz Carriere, Nohl and Kalischer. Bettina has perhaps embellished
them a little, but the foundation remains reliable.

[37] "Beethoven," said Goethe to Zelter, "is, unfortunately, possessed
of a wild and uncouth disposition; doubtless, he is not wrong in
finding the world detestable, but that is not the way to make it
pleasant for himself or for others. We must excuse and pity him for
he is deaf." After that he did nothing against Beethoven nor did he
do anything for him, but he ignored him completely. At the bottom,
however, he admired Beethoven's music and feared it also. He was afraid
it would cause him to lose that mental calm which he had gained through
so much trouble. A letter of young Felix Mendelssohn, who passed
through Weimar in 1830, gives us a very interesting glimpse into the
depths of that storm-tossed passionate soul, controlled as it was by
a masterly and powerful intellect.... "At first," writes Mendelssohn,
"he did not want to hear Beethoven's name mentioned, but after a time
he was persuaded to listen to the First Movement of the Symphony in C
minor, which moved him deeply. He would not show anything outwardly,
but merely remarked to me, 'that does not touch me, it only surprises
me.' After a time he said 'It is really grand, it is maddening, you
would think the house was crumbling to pieces.' Afterwards, at dinner,
he sat pensive and absorbed until he began to question me about
Beethoven's music. I saw quite clearly that a deep impression had been
made on him...." (For information on the relations between Goethe and
Beethoven, see various articles by Frimmel).

[38] Letter from Goethe to Zelter, 2nd September, 1812.... Zelter to
Goethe, 14th September, 1812: "_Auch ich bewundere ihn mit Schrecken_"
("I, too, regard him with mingled admiration and dread"). Zelter writes
to Goethe in 1819, "They say he is mad."

[39] At any rate, this was a subject which Beethoven had in his mind;
for we find it in his notes, especially those for the proposed Tenth
Symphony.

[40] There was a very tender intimacy between Amalie Sebald and him
about this time, and it is possible that this may have supplied the
inspiration.

[41] Differing from him in this, Schubert had written in 1807 a _pièce
d'occasion_, in honour of Napoleon the Great, and conducted the
performance himself before the Emperor.

[42] "I say nothing of our monarchs and their kingdoms," he wrote to
Kauka during the Congress. "To my mind, the empire of the spirit is
the dearest of all. It is the first of all kingdoms, temporal and
spiritual."

[43] Vienna, is that not to say everything? All trace of German
Protestantism eradicated, even the national accent lost,
Italianised.... German spirit, German habits and ways explained from
textbooks of Italian and Spanish origin.... The country of debased
history, falsified science, falsified religion.... A frivolous
scepticism calculated to undermine all love of truth, honour, and
independence! (Wagner, _Beethoven_, 1870).

Grillparzer has written that it was a misfortune to be born an
Austrian. The great German composers of the end of the 19th Century
who have lived in Vienna, have suffered cruelly from the spirit of
this town, delivered up to the Pharisaical cult of Brahms. The life
of Bruckner was one long martyrdom. Hugo Wolf, who battled furiously
before giving in, has uttered implacable judgments on Vienna.

[44] King Jerome had offered Beethoven an annuity of six hundred ducats
of gold and 150 silver ducats for travelling expenses, for playing to
him occasionally and for managing his chamber-music concerts, which
were not long or very frequent. Beethoven was eager to go.

[45] Rossini's _Tancredi_ sufficed to shake the whole German musical
edifice. Bauernfold (quoted by Ehrhard) notes in his _Journal_ this
criticism which circulated in the Viennese salons in 1816: "Mozart
and Beethoven are old pedants; the stupidity of the preceding period
amused them: it is only since Rossini that one has really known melody.
_Fidelio_ is quite devoid of music; one cannot understand why people
take the trouble to weary themselves with it." Beethoven gave his last
concert as pianist in 1814.

[46] The same year Beethoven lost his brother Karl. "He clung to life
so, that I would willingly have given mine," he wrote to Antonia
Brentano.

[47] Except for his intimate friendship with Countess Maria von Erdödy,
a constant sufferer like himself, afflicted with an incurable malady.
She lost her only son suddenly in 1816. Beethoven dedicated to her in
1809 his two Trios Op. 70; and in 1815-17, his two great Sonatas for
Violoncello Op. 102.

[48] Besides his deafness, his health grew worse from day to day.
During October, 1816, he was very ill. In the summer of 1817 his doctor
said he had a chest complaint. During the winter, 1817-18, he was
tormented with his so-called phthisis. Then he had acute rheumatism in
1820-21, jaundice in 1821, and several maladies in 1823.

[49] A change of style in his music, beginning with the Sonata Op: 101,
dates from this time.

[50] Beethoven's conversation-books form more than 11,000 manuscript
pages, and can be found bound to-day in the Imperial Library at Berlin.

[51] Schindler, who had been intimate with Beethoven since 1819,
had known him slightly since 1814; but Beethoven had found it very
difficult to be friendly; he treated him at first with disdainful
haughtiness.

[52] See the admirable notes of Wagner on Beethoven's deafness
(_Beethoven_, 1870).

[53] He loved animals and pitied them. The mother of the historian, von
Frimmel, says that for a long while she had an involuntary dislike for
Beethoven, because when she was a little girl he drove away with his
handkerchief all the butterflies that she wanted to catch.

[54] He was always uncomfortable in his lodgings. In thirty-five years
in Vienna, he changed his rooms thirty times.

[55] Beethoven had written personally to Cherubini, who was "of all his
contemporaries the one whom he most esteemed." Cherubini did not reply.

[56] "I never avenge myself," he wrote besides to Madame Streicher.
"When I am obliged to act against others, I only do what is necessary
to defend myself or to prevent them from doing one harm."

[57] A letter which has been found in Berlin to M. Kalischer, shews
with what deep feeling Beethoven wished to make his nephew "a citizen
useful to the state" (February 1st, 1819).

[58] Schindler, who saw him then, says that he suddenly became an old
man of seventy, utterly crushed and broken of will. He would have died
had Carl died. He died soon afterwards.

[59] The dilettantism of our time has not failed to seek to reinstate
this scoundrel. This is not surprising.

[60] Letter from Fischenich to Charlotte Schiller (January, 1793).
Schiller's Ode was written in 1785. The actual theme appeared in 1808
in the _Fantasy for piano, orchestra and Choir, Op. 80_, and in 1810
in the Song on Goethe's words: _Kleine Blumen, Kleine Blaetter_. I
have seen in a notebook of 1812 belonging to Dr. Erich Prieger at
Bonn, between the sketches of the _Seventh Symphony_ and a plan for
an _Overture to Macbeth_, an attempt to adopt some words of Schiller
to the theme which he used later on in the _Overture Op. 115_
(_Namensfeier_). Several instrumental motives of the _Ninth Symphony_
appeared before 1815. Thus the definite theme of Joy was put down in
notes in 1822; also all the other airs of the _Symphony_, except the
Trio, which came a little after, then the _andante moderato_, and
later the _adagio_, which appeared last of all. For references to
Schiller's poem and the false interpretation which is given now-a-days
by substituting for the word _Joy_ the word _Liberty_, see an article
by Charles Andler in _Pages Libres_ (July 8, 1905).

[61] Berlin Library.

[62] Just as if there were words below.

[63] The _Mass in D_, Op: 123.

[64] Harassed by domestic quarrels, misery, cares of all kinds,
Beethoven only wrote during the five years from 1816 to 1821, three
pieces for the piano (Op: 101, 102, and 106). His enemies said he was
exhausted. He began to work again in 1821.

[65] February, 1824. Signed Prince C. Lichnowski, Count Maurice
Lichnovsky, Count Maurice de Fries, Count M. de Dietrichstein, Count
F. de Palfy, Count Czernin, Ignace Edler de Mosel, Charles Czerny,
Abbé Stadler, A. Diabelli, Artari & Co., Steiner & Co., A. Streicher,
Zmeskall, Kiesewetter, etc.

[66] "My moral character is publicly recognised," Beethoven proudly
said to the Vienna Municipality, on February 1st, 1819, to vindicate
his right to the guardianship of his nephew. Even distinguished writers
like Weisenbach have considered him worthy of the dedication of their
works.

[67] In August, 1824, he was haunted with the fear of sudden death
"like my grandfather to whom I bear so much resemblance," he wrote on
August 16th, 1824, to Dr. Bach.

[68] The Ninth Symphony was given for the first time in Germany at
Frankfurt on April 1st, 1825; in London on March 25th, 1825; in Paris
at the Conservatoire on March 27th, 1831. Mendelssohn, then aged
seventeen, gave a performance of it on the piano at the Jaegerhalle in
Berlin on November 14th, 1826. Wagner, a student at Leipzig, re-copied
it entirely by hand; and in a letter, dated October 6th, 1830, to
the publisher, Schott, offered him a reduction of the Symphony for
pianoforte duet. One can say that the Ninth Symphony decided Wagner's
career.

[69] "Apollo and his Muses would not wish to deliver me up to death
yet, for I still owe them so much. Before I go to the Champs-Elysées I
must leave behind me what the spirit inspires and tells me to finish.
It seems to me that I have scarcely written anything." (To the brothers
Schott, Sept. 17th, 1829.)

[70] Beethoven wrote to Moscheles on March 18th, 1827: "The complete
sketch of a Symphony is in my desk with a new overture." This sketch
has never been found. One only reads in his notes:

"Adagio cantique." Religious song for a symphony in the old modes
(_Herr Gott dich loben wir.--Alleluja_), may be in an independent
style, may be as introduction to a fugue. This Symphony might be
characterised by the entrance of voices, perhaps in the _finale_,
perhaps in the _adagio_. The violins in the orchestra, etc., increased
ten times for the last movements. The voices to enter one by one; or to
repeat the _adagio_ somehow in the last movements. For words for the
_adagio_, a Greek myth or an ecclesiastical canticle, in the _allegro_,
Bacchus' Feast (1818). As has been seen the choral conclusion was
intended to be reserved for a _Tenth Symphony_ and not for the _Ninth
Symphony_.

Later he said that he wished to accomplish in his _Tenth Symphony_ "the
reconciliation of the modern world with the ancient, which Goethe had
attempted in his _Second Faust_."

[71] The subject is the legend of a horseman who is loved and captured
by a fairy, and who suffers from nostalgia and lack of liberty.
There are analogies between this poem and that of _Tannhäuser_.
Beethoven worked at it between 1823 and 1826. (See A. Ehrhard _Franz
Grillparzer_, 1900).

[72] Since 1808 Beethoven had made plans for writing the music to
_Faust_. (The first part of _Faust_ appeared under the title of
_Tragedy_ in the autumn of 1807). It was then his dearest plan.

[73] "The South of France! It is there, there!" (from a notebook in the
Berlin Library). "To go away from here. Only on this sole condition
will you be able to rise again to the high level of your art.... A
Symphony, then to go away, away, away. The summer to work during a
voyage.... Then to travel in Italy and Sicily with some other artist."

[74] In 1819 he was followed by the police for having said aloud "That,
after all, Christ was only a crucified Jew." He was then writing the
_Mass in D_. That work alone is enough to show the freedom of his
religious inspirations. (For the religious opinions of Beethoven, see
Theodor von Frimmel; _Beethoven_, 3rd Edition, Verlag Harmonie; and
_Beethovenia_, edited Georg Müller, Vol. II, Blöchinger). No less free
in politics, Beethoven boldly attacked the vices of the government. He
attacked amongst other things, the administration of justice, hindered
by the slowness of its process, the stupid police regulations, the
rude and lazy clerks in office, who killed all individual initiative
and paralysed all action: the unfair privileges of a degenerate
aristocracy, the high taxation, etc. His political sympathies seemed to
be with England at that time.

[75] The suicide of his nephew.

[76] See an article by Dr. Klotz Forest on the last illness and death
of Beethoven in the _Chronique Médicale_ of April 1st and 15th, 1906.
There is also exact information in the conversation books where the
doctor's questions are written down, and in the article of the doctor
himself (Dr. Wawruch) in the _Vienna Times_, in 1842.

[77] The recollections of the singer, Ludwig Cramolini, which have
been published, relate a touching visit to Beethoven during his last
illness. He found Beethoven possessed of a calm serenity, a touching
kindness. (See the _Frankfurter Zeitung_, of September 29th, 1907).

[78] The operations took place on December 20th, January 8th, February
2nd, and February 27th.

[79] The young musician, Anselm Huttenbrenner. "God be praised," said
Breuning. "Let us thank Him for having put an end to this long and
pitiful martyrdom."

All Beethoven's MSS. books and furniture were sold by auction for
1,575 florins. The catalogue contained 252 lots of manuscripts and
musical books which did not exceed the sum of 982 florins 37 kreutzer.
The _conversation-books_ and the _Tagebucher_ were sold for 1 florin
20 kreutzer. Amongst his books Beethoven possessed: Kant's _Natural
Science and Astronomy_; Bode's _Knowledge of the Heavens_; Thomas à
Kempis _The Imitation of Christ_. The Censor confiscated Seum's _Walks
round Syracuse_, Kotzebue's _Over the Adel_, and Fessler's _Views on
Religion and Theology_.

[80] "I am always happy when I have to master some difficulty" (Letter
to the Immortal Loved One). "I should like to live a thousand lives....
I am not suited for a quiet life." (To Wegeler, November 16th, 1801).

[81] "Beethoven talked to me on the science of nature and helped me
with this study as with music. It was not the laws of nature but its
elementary powers that attracted him." (Schindler).

[82] "Oh, how good life is; but mine is for ever embittered." (Letter
to Wegeler, May 2nd, 1810).




                               HIS WILL




                            [Illustration]
                          Alone, Alone, Alone.

                   (To Lichnovsky, 21 Sept., 1814).




                      THE HEILIGENSTADT WILL.[83]

For my brothers CARL and ---- BEETHOVEN.


O ye men who regard or declare me to be malignant, stubborn or
cynical, how unjust are ye towards me! You do not know the secret cause
of my seeming so. From childhood onward, my heart and mind prompted
me to be kind and tender, and I was ever inclined to accomplish great
deeds. But only think that during the last six years I have been in
a wretched condition, rendered worse by unintelligent physicians.
Deceived from year to year with hopes of improvement, and then finally
forced to the prospect of _lasting infirmity_ (which may last for
years, or even be totally incurable). Born with a fiery, active
temperament, even susceptive of the diversions of society, I had soon
to retire from the world, to live a solitary life. At times, even, I
endeavoured to forget all this, but how harshly was I driven back by
the redoubled experience of my bad hearing. Yet it was not possible
for me to say to men: "Speak louder, shout, for I am deaf." Alas! how
could I declare the weakness of a _sense_ which in me _ought to be_
more acute than in others--a sense which _formerly_ I possessed in
highest perfection, a perfection such as few in my profession enjoy,
or ever have enjoyed; no, I cannot do it. Forgive, therefore, if you
see me withdraw, when I would willingly mix with you. My misfortune
pains me doubly, in that I am certain to be misunderstood. For me there
can be no recreation in the society of my fellow creatures, no refined
conversations, no interchange of thought. Almost alone, and only mixing
in society when absolutely necessary, I am compelled to live as an
exile. If I approach near to people, a feeling of hot anxiety comes
over me lest my condition should be noticed--for so it was during these
past six months which I spent in the country. Ordered by my intelligent
physician to spare my hearing as much as possible, he almost fell in
with my present frame of mind, although many a time I was carried away
by my sociable inclinations. But how humiliating was it, when some one
standing close to me heard a distant flute, and I heard _nothing_, or
a _shepherd singing_, and again I heard nothing. Such incidents almost
drove me to despair; at times I was on the point of putting an end to
my life--_art_ alone restrained my hand. Oh! it seemed as if I could
not quit this earth until I had produced all I felt within me, and so I
continued this wretched life, wretched indeed, with so sensitive a body
that a somewhat sudden change can throw me from the best into the worst
state. _Patience_, I am told, I must choose as my guide. I have done
so--lasting, I hope, will be my resolution to bear up until it pleases
the inexorable Parcae to break the thread. Forced, already in my 28th
year,[84] to become a philosopher it is not easy; for an artist more
difficult than for any one else. O Divine Being, Thou Who lookest down
into my inmost soul, Thou understandest, Thou knowest that love for
mankind and a desire to do good dwell therein. Oh, my fellow men, when
one day you read this, remember that you were unjust to me, and let the
unfortunate one console himself if he can find one like himself, who in
spite of all obstacles which nature has thrown in his way, has still
done everything in his power to be received into the ranks of worthy
artists and men. You, my brothers Carl and----, as soon as I am dead,
beg Professor Schmidt, if he be still living, to describe my malady,
and annex this written account to that of my illness, so that at least
the world may know, so far as it is possible, may become reconciled to
me after my death. And now I declare you both heirs to my small fortune
(if such it may be called). Divide it honourably and dwell in peace,
and help each other. What you have done against me, has, as you know,
long been forgiven. And you, brother Carl, I especially thank you for
the attachment you have shown towards me of late. My prayer is that
your life may be better, less troubled by cares than mine. Recommend to
your children virtue; it alone can bring happiness, not money. I speak
from experience. It was virtue which bore me up in time of trouble; to
her, next to my art, I owe thanks for my not having laid violent hands
on myself. Farewell, and love one another. My thanks to all friends,
especially _Prince Lichnovsky and Professor Schmidt_. I should much
like one of you to keep as an heirloom the instruments given to me by
Prince L., but let no strife arise between you concerning them; if
money should be of more service to you, just sell them. How happy I
feel that even when lying in my grave I may be useful to you.

So let it be. I joyfully hasten to meet death. If it come before I have
had opportunity to develop all my artistic faculties, it will come,
my hard fate notwithstanding, too soon, and I should probably wish it
later--yet even then I shall be happy, for will it not deliver me from
a state of endless suffering? Come when thou wilt, I shall face thee
courageously; farewell, and when I am dead, do not entirely forget me.
This I deserve from you, for during my lifetime I often thought of you,
and how to make you happy. Be ye so.

                                             LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN.

_Heiglnstadt, the 6th of October_, 1802.
  (Black Seal).

On the fourth side of the large Will sheet:--

Heiglnstadt, October, 1802, thus I take my farewell of thee--and,
indeed, sadly--yes, that fond hope which I entertained when I came
here, of being at any rate healed up to a certain point, must be
entirely abandoned. As the leaves of autumn fall and fade, so it has
withered away for me; almost the same as when I came here do I go
away--even the high courage which often in the beautiful summer days
quickened me, that has vanished. O Providence, let me have just one
pure day of _joy_; so long is it since true joy filled my heart. Oh
when, oh when, oh Divine Being, shall I be able once again to feel it
in the temple of nature and of men? Never--no--that would be too hard.

For my brothers Carl and ---- to execute after my death.

                                  CODICIL. TESTAMENTARY DISPOSITION.

My nephew, Carl, shall be my sole heir; the capital of my estate shall,
however, descend to his natural heirs or to those appointed by him
through a will.

                                       Ludwig van Beethoven.


                              FOOTNOTES:

[83] Translation by J. S. Shedlock. See footnote, page 65.

[84] Beethoven was at the time in his 32nd year; but he never knew
precisely his age.




                                LETTERS




              [Illustration: BEETHOVEN AT THE AGE OF 44.]

            _From an Engraving by Blasius Hoefel after the
                   Drawing by Louis Letronne, 1814._

                                                     _To face page_ 64.




                       BEETHOVEN'S LETTERS.[85]


                                  I.

                 To CARL AMENDA at Wirben in Courland.

                                           (_Vienna, June_ 1, 1800).

  My dear, my good Amenda, my heartily beloved friend.

With deep emotion, with mixed pain and pleasure did I receive and
read your last letter. To what can I compare your fidelity, your
attachment to me. Oh! how pleasant it is that you have always remained
so kind to me; yes, I also know that you, of all men, are the most
trustworthy. You are no _Viennese friend_; no, you are one of those
such as my native country produces. How often do I wish you were with
me, your Beethoven is most unhappy, and at strife with nature and
Creator. The latter I have often cursed for exposing His creatures to
the smallest chance, so that frequently the richest buds are thereby
crushed and destroyed. Only think that the noblest part of me, my
sense of hearing has become very weak. Already, when you were with me
I noticed traces of it, and I said nothing. Now it has become worse,
and it remains to be seen whether it can ever be healed.... I much fear
that my hearing will not improve; maladies of that kind are the most
difficult of all to cure. What a sad life I am now compelled to lead; I
must avoid all that is near and dear to me, and then to be among such
wretched egotistical beings such as ... etc. I can say that among all,
Lichnowski has best stood the test. Since last year he has settled
on me 600 florins, which, together with the good sale of my works,
enables me to live without anxiety. Everything I write I can sell
immediately five times over, and also be well paid. I have composed a
fair quantity, and as I hear you have ordered pianofortes from ... I
will send you many things in one of the packing cases so it will not
cost you so very much. Now to my consolation, a man has come here with
whom intercourse is a pleasure, and whose friendship is free from all
selfishness. He is one of the friends of my youth. I have often spoken
to him about you, and told him that since I left my native country, you
are the one whom my heart has chosen. Even he does not like ... the
latter is and remains too weak for friendship. I consider him and ...
mere instruments on which when it pleases me I play; but they can never
become noble witnesses of my inner and outer activity, nor be in true
sympathy with me; I value them according as they are useful to me. Oh!
how happy should I now be if I had my perfect hearing, for I should
then hasten to you. As it is, I must in all things be behind-hand; my
best years will slip away without bringing forth what, with my talent
and my strength I ought to have accomplished. I must now have recourse
to sad resignation. I have, it is true, resolved not to worry about
all this but how is it possible? Yes, Amenda, if six months hence my
malady is beyond cure, then I lay claim to your help. You must leave
everything and come to me. I will travel (my malady interferes least
with my playing and composition, most only in conversation), and you
must be my companion. I am convinced good fortune will not fail me.
With whom need I be afraid of measuring my strength? Since you went
away I have written music of all kinds except operas and sacred works.

Yes, do not refuse; help your friend to bear with his troubles, his
infirmity. I have also greatly improved my pianoforte playing. I hope
this journey may also turn to your advantage; afterwards you will
always remain with me. I have duly received all your letters, and
although I have only answered a few, you have been always in my mind,
and my heart, as always, beats tenderly for you. _Please keep as a
great secret_ _what I have told you about my hearing; trust no one,
whoever it may be, with it._ Do write frequently; your letters, however
short they may be, console me, do me good. I expect soon to get another
one from you, my dear friend. Don't lend out my Quartet any more,
because I have made many changes in it. I have only just learnt how to
write quartets properly, as you will see when you receive them.

Now, my dear good friend, farewell! If, perchance, you believe that I
can show you any kindness here, I need not of course, remind you to
first address yourself to

                           Your faithful, truly loving,

                                                  L. V. BEETHOVEN.


                                  II.

                         To Fräulein GERARDI.

                                                   (1798?)

  Dear Chr.

You let me hear something yesterday about a portrait of myself. I
wish you to proceed somewhat carefully in the matter. I fear if we
return it through F., the disagreeable B. or the arch-fool Joseph might
interfere, and then the matter might be meant as a mean trick played
on me, and that would be really most annoying. I should have to avenge
myself, and the whole _populasse_ does not deserve it. Try to get hold
of the thing as well as you can. I assure you that after this I should
put a notice in the newspaper, requesting all painters not to take my
portrait without my consent, were I afraid of falling into perplexity
over my own countenance. As to the matter of taking off my hat, it
is altogether stupid, and at the same time too impolite for me to
retaliate. Pray explain to him the truth about the walk.

         Adieu. The devil take you.


                                 III.

                To Frl. ELEONORE VON BREUNING in Bonn.

                                          _Vienna, November_ 2, 1793.

  Honoured Eleonore, my dearest friend.

I shall soon have been in this capital a whole year, yet only now do
you receive a letter from me, but you were certainly constantly in my
thoughts. Frequently, indeed, did I hold converse with you and your
dear family, but, for the most part, not with the tranquility of mind
which I should have liked. Then it was that the fatal quarrel hovered
before me, and my former behaviour appeared to me so abominable. But
the past cannot be undone, and what would I not give if I could blot
out of my life my former conduct so dishonouring to me, so contrary
to my character. Many circumstances, indeed, kept us at a distance
from each other, and, as I presume, it was especially the insinuations
resulting from conversations on either side which prevented all
reconciliation. Each of us believed that he was convinced of the truth
of what he said, and yet it was mere anger, and we were both deceived.
Your good and noble character is, indeed, a guarantee that I have long
since been forgiven. But true repentance consists, so it is said, in
acknowledging one's faults, and this I intended to do. And now let us
draw a curtain over the whole story, and only learn from it the lesson
that when friends fall out it is always better to have no go-between,
but for friend to turn directly to friend.

Herewith you receive a dedication from me to yourself, and I only
wish that the work were more important, more worthy of you. I have
been worried here to publish this small work,[86] and I make use of
this opportunity to give you, my adorable Eleonore, a proof of my high
esteem and of my friendship towards you, and of my constant remembrance
of your family. Accept this trifle, and realise that it comes from a
friend who holds you in high esteem. Oh, if it only gives you pleasure,
I am fully rewarded. Let it be a small reawakening of that time in
which I spent so many and such happy hours in your home; it may,
perhaps, keep me in your remembrance, until one day I return, but that
will not be for a long time. Oh, how we shall then rejoice, my dear
friend. You will then find your friend a more cheerful being, for whom
time and his better fortune have smoothed down the furrows of the
horrid past. If you happen to see B. Koch, please tell her that it is
not nice of her not to have sent me a single line. For I have written
twice; to Malchus I wrote three times--and no answer. Tell her that
if she would not write, she ought to have urged Malchus to do so. As
conclusion to my letter, I add a request; it is that I may be lucky
enough, my dear friend, again to possess an Angora vest knitted by your
hands. Forgive this indiscreet request from your friend. It arises from
the great preference I have for everything coming from your hands, and,
as a secret, I may say to you that in this there is at bottom a little
vanity, viz., to be able to say that I possess something given to me
by one of the best, most worthy young ladies in Bonn. I still have the
first one which you were kind enough to give me in Bonn, but it is now
so out of fashion that I can only keep it in my wardrobe as a precious
gift from you. If you would soon write me a nice letter, it would
afford me great pleasure. If, perchance, my letters give you pleasure,
I certainly promise that I will willingly send news as often as I can.
For everything is welcome to me whereby I can show you in what esteem
you are held by

                               Your true friend,

                                                L. V. BEETHOVEN.


                                  IV.

                      To Dr. F. WEGELER in Bonn.

                                           _Vienna, June_ 29, 1800.

   My good, dear Wegeler.

I am most grateful to you for thinking of me; I have so little
deserved it, or sought to deserve it at your hands. And yet you are
so very good, and are not kept back by anything, not even by my
unpardonable negligence, but always remain a faithful, good, honest
friend. That I could ever forget you, and especially all of you who
were so kind and affectionate to me, no, do not believe it; there are
moments in which I myself long for you--yes, and wish to spend some
time with you. My native land, the beautiful country in which I first
saw the light of the world, is ever as beautiful and distinct before
mine eyes as when I left you. In short, I shall regard that time as
one of the happiest of my life, when I see you again, and can greet
our father Rhine. When that will be I cannot yet say. This much will I
tell you, that you will only see me again when I am really great; not
only greater as an artist, but as a man you shall find me better, more
perfect; and if in our native land there are any signs of returning
prosperity, I will only use my art for the benefit of the poor. O,
happy moment, how fortunate I think myself in being able to get a
fatherland created here!

You want to know something about my present state; well, at present,
it is not so bad. Since last year, Lichnowsky, who, however incredible
it may seem when I tell it you, was always my warmest friend, and
has remained so (of course, there have been slight misunderstandings
between us, but just these have strengthened our friendship), has
settled a fixed sum of 600 florins on me, and I can draw it so long
as I fail to find a suitable post. My compositions are bringing in a
goodly sum, and I may add, it is scarcely possible for me to execute
the orders given. Also, for every work I have six, seven publishers,
and if I choose, even more. They do not bargain with me; I demand and
they pay. You see how pleasant it is. For example, I see a friend
in distress, and if my purse do not allow of my helping him, I have
only to sit down and in a short time he is relieved. Also I am more
economical than I was formerly. If I should settle here, I shall
certainly contrive to get one day every year for concerts, of which I
have given some.

Only my envious demon, my bad health, has thrown obstacles in my way.
For instance, my hearing has become weaker during the last three years,
and this infirmity was in the first instance caused by my general
health, which, as you know, was already, in the past, in a wretched
state. Frank wished to restore me to health by means of strengthening
medicines, and to cure my deafness by means of oil of almonds, but,
_prosit!_ nothing came of these remedies; my hearing became worse and
worse, and my ill-health always remained in its first state. This
continued until the autumn of last year, and ofttimes I was in despair.
Then an Asinus of a doctor advised cold baths; a more skillful one,
the usual tepid Danube baths. These worked wonders; the state of my
health improved, my deafness remained, or became worse. This winter I
was truly miserable. I had terrible attacks of colic, and I fell quite
back into my former state. So I remained for about four weeks and then
went to Vering, for I thought that this state required medical aid, and
in addition I had always placed faith in him. He ordered tepid Danube
baths, and whenever I took one I had to pour into it a little bottle
full of strengthening stuff. He gave me no medicine until about four
days ago, when he ordered an application of herbs for the ear. And
through these I can say I feel stronger and better; only the humming
in my ears continues day and night without ceasing. I may truly say
that my life is a wretched one. For the last two years I have avoided
all society, for it is impossible for me to say to people 'I am deaf.'
Were my profession any other it would not so much matter, but in my
profession it is a terrible thing; and my enemies, of whom they are
not a few, what would they say to this? To give you an idea of this
extraordinary deafness, I will tell you that when at the theatre, I am
obliged to lean forward close to the orchestra, in order to understand
what is being said on the stage. When somewhat at a distance I cannot
hear the high tones of instruments, voices. In speaking it is not
surprising that there are people who have never noticed it, for as a
rule I am absent-minded, and they account for it in that way. Often I
can scarcely hear anyone speaking to me; the tones, yes, but not the
actual words; yet as soon as anyone shouts, it is unbearable. What
will come of all this, heaven only knows! Vering says that there will
_certainly be an improvement, though perhaps not a perfect cure_. I
have, indeed, often ------------ cursed my existence; Plutarch taught
me resignation. If nothing else is possible I will defy my fate,
although there will be moments in my life when I shall be God's most
wretched creature. I beg you not to tell anyone about this; don't say
even a word to Lorchen. I only tell it you as a secret; I should be
glad if you would open up correspondence with Vering on the subject.
Should my present state continue, I would come next spring to you. You
would take a house for me in some beautiful place in the country, and
so I would rusticate for six months. By that means there might come a
change. Resignation! what a miserable refuge, and yet it is the only
way for me.

Pray forgive me for telling you of a friend's trouble, when you
yourself are in sad circumstances. Stephen Breuning is now here, and
we are together almost daily. It does me good to hark back to old
times. He is really a good, noble young fellow, who knows a thing
or two, and whose heart, as with all of us more or less, is sound.
I have very fine rooms now, which look on to the bastion, and this
for my health is of double value. I really think I can arrange for
Breuning to come and live with me. You shall have your Antiochus, and
a rare lot of my new compositions, unless you think it will cost you
too much. Honestly speaking, your love for art gives me the highest
pleasure. Only write to me how it is to be managed, and I will send you
all my works, of which the number is now pretty large and it is daily
increasing. In place of the portrait of my grandfather, which I beg
you to send as soon as possible by stage coach, I send you that of his
grandson, your ever good and affectionate Beethoven. It is coming out
here at Artaria's, who, also other art firms, have often asked me for
it. I will write shortly to Stoffel, and read him a bit of a lecture
about his cross temper. He shall hear what I have to say about old
friendship, he shall promise on his oath not to grieve you any more in
your, apart from this, sad circumstances. I will also write to kind
Lorchen. I have never forgot a single one of you, my dear good people,
although you never get any news from me; but writing, as you well know,
was never a strong point with me--years, even, have passed without my
best friends ever receiving anything. I only live in my music, and
I have scarcely begun one thing when I start another. As I am now
working, I am often engaged on three or four things at the same time.

Write often to me now; I will see to it that I find time sometimes to
write to you. Greetings to all, also to the good wife of the privy
councillor, and tell her that I still, occasionally, have a "raptus."
I am not surprised at the change in K; fortune is fickle, and does not
always fall to the most worthy, the best. A word about Ries, to whom
hearty greetings. As regards his son, about whom I will write shortly,
although I am of opinion that to make his way in the world, Paris is
better than Vienna. The latter city is overcrowded, and even persons of
the highest merit find it hard to maintain themselves. By the autumn,
or the winter, I will see what I can do for him, for then every one is
returning.

Farewell, good, faithful Wegeler. Rest assured of the love and
friendship of
                                             Your,


                                                       BEETHOVEN.


                                  V.

                     To Dr. FRANZ WEGELER in Bonn.

                                                _November_ 16 (1801?)

   My good Wegeler.

I thank you for the fresh proof of your anxiety concerning myself, and
all the more as I am so little deserving of it. You want to know how I
am, what I am taking; and however unwillingly I may discuss the matter,
I certainly like best to do it with you. For the last few months,
Vering has ordered herb plasters to be constantly placed on both arms;
and these, as you will know, are composed of a certain bark. This is
a most unpleasant cure, as, until the bark has sufficiently drawn, I
am deprived for a day or so of the free use of my arms, to say nothing
of the pain. I cannot, it is true, deny that the humming with which my
deafness actually began, has become somewhat weaker, especially in the
left ear. My hearing, however, has not in the least improved; I really
am not quite sure whether it has not become worse. My general health is
better, and especially after I have taken luke warm baths a few times,
I am fairly well for eight or ten days. I seldom take any tonic; I am
now applying herb-plasters according to your advice. Vering won't hear
of shower baths, but I am really very dissatisfied with him; he shows
so little care and forbearance for such a malady; if I did not actually
go to him, and that costs me a great effort, I should never see him.
What is your opinion of Schmidt? I do not like making a change, yet it
seems to me that Vering is too much a practitioner to be able to take
in new ideas through books. Schmidt appears to me a very different
kind of man, and perhaps would not be so remiss. I hear wonders of
galvanism; what do you say about it? A doctor told me he had seen a
deaf and dumb child in Berlin who had recovered his hearing, also a man
who had been deaf for seven years. I have just heard that your Schmidt
is making experiments with it.

My life is again somewhat pleasanter, for I mix in society. You
can scarcely imagine what a dreary, sad life I have led during the
past two years. My weak hearing always seemed to me like a ghost and
I ran away from people, was forced to appear a misanthrope, though
not at all in my character. This change has been brought about by an
enchanting maiden, who loves me, and whom I love. Again during the
past two years I have had some happy moments, and for the first time
I feel that marriage can bring happiness. Unfortunately, she is not
of my station in life, and now--for the moment I certainly could not
marry--I must bravely bustle about. If it were not for my hearing, I
should already long ago have travelled half over the world, and that I
must do. For me there is no greater pleasure than that of practising
and displaying my art. Do not believe that I should feel happy among
you. What, indeed, could make me happier? Even your solicitude would
pain me; at every moment I should read pity on your faces, and that
would make me still more miserable. My beautiful native country, what
was my lot when there? Nothing but hope of a better state, and, except
for this evil, I should already have won it! O that I could be free
from it, and encompass the world! My youth, yes I feel it, is only now
beginning; have I not always been sickly? My strength, both of body
and mind, for some time has been on the increase. Every day I approach
nearer to the goal; this I feel, though I can scarcely describe it.
Only through this, can your Beethoven live. Don't talk of rest! I know
no other but sleep, and sorry enough am I, that I am compelled to give
more time to it than formerly. If only half freed from my infirmity,
then--as a thorough, ripe man--I will come to you and renew the old
feelings of friendship. You will see me as happy as my lot can be here
below, not unhappy. No, that I could not endure; I will seize fate by
the throat; it shall certainly never wholly overcome me. Oh! life is so
beautiful, would I could have a thousand lives! I feel I am no longer
fit to lead a quiet life! Do write as soon as you can. See to it that
Stephen makes up his mind to get an appointment in the Order of German
Knights. For his health, life here is too fatiguing. And besides, he
leads such a retired life, that I do not see how he can get on. You
know how it is here; I do not mean to say that society would render him
less languid; he can never be persuaded to go into it. Some time ago I
had a musical party at my house; but our friend Stephen did not turn
up. Do advise him to take more rest and to be more steady. I have done
all I could; without he takes this advice, he can never become either
happy or healthy. Now, tell me in your next letter, whether it matters
if I send you a great deal of my music. What you really don't want you
can sell, and so you will have your postage--also my portrait. Best
remembrances to Lorchen--also Mamma--and Christoph. You do really love
me a little, do you not? Be as well assured of this (of my love), as of
the friendship of your

                                                          BEETHOVEN.


                                  VI.

                To CAPELLMEISTER HOFMEISTER in Leipzig.

             _Vienna_, 15_th_ (or something like it), _January_, 1801.

With great pleasure, my dearly beloved brother and friend, have I
read your letter. I thank you right heartily for the good opinion you
have expressed concerning me and my works, and hope I may prove myself
really worthy of it. Please also convey my dutiful thanks to Herr K.
for his courtesy and friendly feelings towards me.

Your undertakings likewise make me glad, and I hope, if works of art
can procure gain, that it will fall to the lot of genuine true artists,
rather than to mere shopkeepers. That you wish to publish the works
of _Sebastian_ Bach rejoices my heart, which beats in unison with the
high art of this forefather of harmony, and I desire soon to see the
scheme in full swing. I hope that here, so soon as golden peace has
been proclaimed, I shall be able to be of great assistance in the
matter, when you issue a subscription list. As regards our special
business, since you wish it, I hope this may be to your liking: I now
offer you the following: _Septet_ (concerning which I have already
written to you; by _arranging_ it for pianoforte, it would become
better known and be more profitable) 20 ducats, _Symphony_ 20 ducats,
_Concerto_ 10 ducats, _Solo Sonata_ (_Allegro_, _Adagio_, _Minuetto_,
_Rondo_) 20 ducats. This _Sonata_ is A1, dearest brother! Now for a
word of explanation; you will perhaps be surprised that I here make
no difference between _Sonata_, _Septet_, _Symphony_, because I find
that there is not such a demand for a Septet or a _Symphony_ as for
a Sonata; that is why I do so, although a _Symphony_ is undoubtedly
of greater value (N.B.--the Septet consists of a short introductory
_Adagio_, then _Allegro_, _Adagio_, _Minuetto_, _Andante_ with
_Variations_, _Minuetto_, another short introductory _Adagio_, and
then _Presto_). The _Concerto_ I only value at 10 ducats, because, as
I have already written, I do not give it out as one of my best. All
things considered, I do not think you will find this excessive; anyhow
I have tried to name prices for you as moderate as I possibly could.
Concerning the money order, since you leave me the choice, you could
make it payable at Geimüller's or Schüller's. The full amount would
therefore be 70 ducats for all four works. I do not understand any
other money than Viennese ducats; how many thalers and gulden that
makes, is no affair of mine, for I am a bad _business_ man and reckoner.

There is an end of the troublesome business. So I name it, because
I only wish it could be otherwise in the world. There ought to be an
artistic _depôt_ where the artist need only hand in his art-work in
order to receive what he asks for. As things are, one must be half a
business man, and how can one understand,--good heavens!--that's what
I really call _troublesome_. As for the Leipzig O (?) let them just go
on talking; _they_ will never by their chatter confer immortality on
any one, neither can they take it away from any one for whom Apollo has
destined it. Now, may heaven have _you and yours_ in its keeping. For
some time I have not been well; and so it is now somewhat difficult for
me to write notes, still more so alphabet letters. I hope that we shall
often have opportunity to assure ourselves that you are a great friend
to me, and that I am

                    Your devoted brother and friend,

                                                 L. V. BEETHOVEN.


                                 VII.

      Letter from Wegeler and Eleonore von Breuning to Beethoven.

                                      _Coblentz_, 28 _December_, 1825.

   My dear old Louis.

I cannot allow one of Ries' ten children to leave Vienna without
recalling him to your remembrance. If during the twenty-eight years
since I left Vienna, you have not received a long letter from me
every two months, you must put it down to your own silence after the
first letters which I sent you. It should not be so and especially
now that we other old people live so entirely in the past and derive
our chief pleasure in recollections of our youth. For me at least, my
acquaintance and my firm friendship to you, thanks to your good mother
whom God now blesses, is a guiding star in my life, towards which I
turn with pleasure.... I raise my eyes to you as to a hero, and I am
proud to be able to say: 'I have had some influence on his development;
he confided in me his ambitions and his dreams; and when later he was
so often misunderstood, I knew quite well what he wanted.' God be
praised that I have been able to speak of you with my wife, and now
with my children! My mother-in-law's house was more your home than your
own home, especially after the death of your good mother. Tell us still
once more, 'I think of you both in joy and in sorrow.' A man, even when
he has risen as high as you, is only happy once in his life: when he is
young. Your thoughts should hark back happily many times to the stones
of Bonn, Godesburg, Pépinière, etc. Now I want to speak of myself, of
ourselves, to give you an example of how you ought to reply to me.

After my return from Vienna in 1796, things went rather badly with
me. For a long time I had to rely for a living on my consultations as
a doctor, and that lasted for several years in this wretched country,
before I could even make a bare livelihood. Then I became a professor
with a salary, and I married. A year later I had a daughter who is
still living and who is quite accomplished. In addition to a very clear
head, she has the quiet ways of her father; and she plays admirably
some of Beethoven's Sonatas. She can claim no merit for this, for it
is an inborn gift with her. In 1807 I had a son who is now studying
medicine in Berlin. In four years I shall send him to Vienna. Will you
look after him for me? I celebrated, in August, my 60th birthday by a
party of sixty friends and acquaintances, including the chief people of
Bonn. I have lived here since 1807, and have a fine house and a good
position. My superiors are satisfied with me, and the King has given me
some orders and medals. Lore and I are content. Now that I have told
you all about ourselves, it is your turn....

Do you never wish to turn your eyes from the tower of St. Stephen's?
Has travel no charms for you? Do you never wish to see the Rhine again?
With every good wish from Madam Lore and myself,

                                    Your very old friend,

                                                         WEGELER.

                                     _Coblentz_, 29 _December_, 1825.

   Dear Beethoven--dear for such a long time!

It was my wish that Wegeler should write to you again. Now that this
is done, I should like to add a few words--not only to recall myself
to your remembrance, but to renew the pressing question whether you
have not a desire to see the Rhine and your birthplace again, and to
give Wegeler and me the greatest joy possible. Our Lenchen thanks you
for so many happy hours; she delights in hearing us speak of you; she
knows all the little adventures of our happy youthful days at Bonn--of
the quarrel and the reconciliation.... How happy she would be to see
you! Unfortunately, the little one has no special aptitude for music;
but she has done so much by application and perseverance that she
can play your Sonatas, Variations, etc.; and as music is always the
greatest relaxation for Wegeler, she is thus able to give him many
happy hours. Julius has some talent for music, but up to the present
it has been neglected; for the last six months, he has been learning
the violoncello with zest and pleasure; and as he has a good teacher
in Berlin I believe that he will get on well. The two children are
tall and resemble their father; they also possess that fine cheery
disposition which Wegeler, thanks to God, has not even yet lost....
He takes great pleasure in playing the themes of your Variations;
the old ones have the greater preference, but he often plays the new
ones, too, with incredible patience. Your _Opferlied_ is placed above
everything. Wegeler never goes to his room without putting it on the
piano. So, dear Beethoven, you can see how lasting and real a thing is
the remembrance which we always have of you! Tell us then just once
that this is not worthless to you, and that we are not quite forgotten.
If it were not so difficult to do as one wishes, we should already have
been to Vienna to see my brother, and have the pleasure of seeing you
again; but such a journey is out of the question now that our son is
at Berlin. Wegeler has told you how everything goes with us--we should
do wrong to complain. Even the most difficult times have been better
for us than for hundreds of others. The greatest blessing is that we
all keep well and that we have such good and noble children. Yes, they
have hardly given us any trouble, and they are such merry and happy
little people. Lenchen has had only one great grief; it was when our
poor Burscheid died: a loss none of us will ever forget. Adieu, dear
Beethoven, and think of us as the most loyal of friends.

                                                   ELN. WEGELER.


                                 VIII.

                         To Dr. FRANZ WEGELER.

                                      _Vienna_, 7_th_ _October_, 1826.

   My dear old friend.

I cannot tell you how much pleasure your letter and that of your
Lorchen gave me. Certainly, a reply ought to have been sent with
lightning speed, but I am generally somewhat careless about writing,
because I think that the better sort of men know me without this. I
often compose the answer in my mind, but when I wish to write it down,
I usually throw the pen away, because I cannot write as I feel. I
remember all the love which you have constantly shown me, for instance,
when you had my room whitewashed, and so pleasantly surprised me. It is
the same with the Breuning family. If we were separated, that happened
in the natural course of things; every one must pursue and try to
attain distinction in his calling; but the eternal unshaken foundations
of virtue held us ever firmly united. Unfortunately, I cannot write
to you to-day so much as I wished, as I am bed-ridden, and therefore
confine myself to answering certain points of your letter.

You write that I am somewhere spoken of as a natural son of the late
King of Prussia; I, likewise, heard of this long ago, but have made
it a principle never to write anything about myself, nor to reply to
anything written about me. So I willingly leave it to you to make
known to the world the uprightness of my parents, and especially of my
mother. You write about your son. I need not say that if he comes here
he will find in me a friend and father, and if I can help, or be of
service to him in any way, I will gladly do so.

I still have the silhouette of your Lorchen, from which you will see
that all the goodness and affection shown to me in my youth are still
dear to me.

Of my diplomas, I will only tell you briefly, that I am honorary
member of the Royal Society of Sciences of Sweden, as well as of
Amsterdam, and also honorary citizen of Vienna. A short time ago a
certain Dr. Spiker took with him my last great Symphony with chorus to
Berlin; it is dedicated to the King, and I had to write the dedication
with my own hand. I had already sought permission through the Embassy
to be allowed to dedicate this work to the King, and it was granted. At
Dr. Spiker's instigation, I was obliged myself to hand over to him the
manuscript for the King, with the corrections in my own handwriting, as
it was to be placed in the Royal Library. Something has been said to me
about the red order of the Eagle, 2nd class; what will come of it, I do
not know, for I have never sought such tokens of honour; yet in these
times, they would not be unwelcome to me for many reasons.

Moreover, my motto is always: 'Nulla dies sine linea,' and if I ever
let the Muse sleep, it is only that she may awaken all the stronger. I
hope still to bring some great works into the world, and then, like an
old child, to end my earthly career amongst good men.

You will also soon receive some music from Schott Brothers of Mainz.
The portrait which you receive enclosed, is certainly an artistic
masterpiece, but it is not the last which has been taken of me. With
regard to tokens of honour, which I know will give you pleasure, I may
also mention that a medal was sent to me by the late King of France
with the inscription: '_Donné par le Roi a Monsieur Beethoven'_,
accompanied by a very obliging letter from the _premier gentilhomme du
Roi Duc de Châtres_.

My dear friend, for to-day, farewell. For the rest, the remembrance
of the past takes hold of me, and not without many tears will you
receive this letter. A beginning is now made, and you will soon get
another letter, and the more frequently you write, the more pleasure
will you give me. No inquiry is necessary on either side concerning our
friendship; and so, farewell. I beg you to kiss and embrace your dear
Lorchen and the children in my name, and at the same time to think of
me. God be with you all.

             As always, your true friend who honours you,

                                                         BEETHOVEN.


                                  IX.

                     To Dr. F. G. WEGELER in Bonn.

                                          _Vienna, February_ 17, 1827.

Fortunately I received your second letter through Breuning. I am
still too weak to answer it, but you may believe me that everything
in it is welcome and desirable. My recovery, if I may call it so, is
very slow; a fourth operation is to be expected, although the doctors
do not say anything about it. I am patiently thinking that every evil
has sometimes its good. But now I am astonished to see from your last
letter that you have not received anything. From the present letter you
will perceive that I wrote to you already on the tenth of December last
year. With the portrait, it is the same, as you will see from the date
when you receive it. 'Frau Steffen said,'[87] in short, Stephen wished
to send you these things if some opportunity offered, but they remained
lying here up to this date; moreover until now, it was difficult to
send them back. You will now get the portrait by post, through Schott
and Co., who also send you the music. I should like to tell you still
much more, but I am too weak, thus I can only embrace you and your
Lorchen in spirit.

With true friendship and affection to you and yours, I am

                             Your old, true friend,

                                                        BEETHOVEN.


                                  X.

                      To Sir G. SMART in London.

                                                      _March_ 6, 1827.

I do not doubt that you, dear Sir, have received through Herr Moscheles
my letter of the 22nd of February; but as I have found by chance among
my papers, S.'s address, I do not hesitate to write direct to you and
recall my request again to your mind.

Up to now I cannot look forward to an end of my terrible illness;
on the contrary, my sufferings, and with it, my cares, have still
increased. On the 29th of February I underwent my fourth operation,
and it may be, perhaps, my fate to undergo a fifth or even more. If
this continues, my illness will surely last till the middle of summer,
and what will then become of me? How shall I then manage to live till
I have recovered strength enough to gain my own living by my pen? In
short, I will not trouble you further with my complaints, and refer
only to my letter of the 22nd of February, asking you to use all your
influence to induce the Philharmonic Society to carry out their former
resolution concerning the concert for my benefit.


                                  XI.

                      To I. MOSCHELES in London.

                                            _Vienna, March_ 14, 1827.

   My dear Moscheles.

Some days ago I found out through Herr Lewinger that you inquired
in a letter to him of the 10th of February regarding the state of my
illness, of which so many different rumours have been spread about.
Although I have no doubts whatever that my letter of the 24th of
February has arrived, which will explain everything you desire to know,
I can but thank you for your sympathy with my sad lot, and beseech you
to be solicitous about the request which you know of from my first
letter, and I am quite convinced that, in union with Sir Smart and
other of my friends, you will succeed in bringing about a favourable
result for me at the Philharmonic Society. I have once more written to
Sir Smart about it.

On the 27th of February I underwent the fourth operation, and there are
visible symptoms that I shall have to suffer a fifth. What does it tend
to, and what will become of me if it continues for some time longer? A
hard lot, indeed, has fallen upon me! However, I submit to the will of
fate, and only pray to God so to ordain it in His divine will, that I
may be protected from want as long as I have to endure death in life.
This will give me strength to bear my lot, however terrible it may be,
with humble submission to the will of the Most High.

Therefore, my dear Moscheles, I entrust once more my affair to you, and
remain with greatest respect ever

                               Your friend,

                                              L. VAN BEETHOVEN.

Hummel is here and has called on me several times.


                                 XII.

                      To I. MOSCHELES in London.

                                           _Vienna, March_ 18, 1827.

With what emotion I read your letter of the 1st March is not to be
described in words. This magnanimity of the Philharmonic Society, with
which they anticipated my request, has touched my inmost heart. I,
therefore, ask you, dear Moscheles, to be the organ through which I
can express my most heartfelt thanks to the Philharmonic Society for
their sympathy and help. Tell these worthy men that if God restores me
to health, I shall try practically to show my gratitude by works, and
that I leave it to the Society to choose what I shall write for them. A
whole sketched Symphony (the 10th) is in my desk, also a new Overture,
or even something else. As regards the concert which the Philharmonic
Society has resolved on giving for my benefit, I beg the Society not
to give up this intention. In short, I shall try to fulfil any wish
expressed by the Society, and never have I undertaken a work with such
ardour as will now be displayed. May it only please God to restore
me soon again to health, and then I shall prove to these magnanimous
Englishmen that I know how to value their sympathy to me in my sad
condition.

I was compelled to accept the whole sum of 1,000 fl., since I was then
in the disagreeable position of having to draw out invested money.

Your noble behaviour I shall never forget, and I shall soon render my
thanks in particular to Sir Smart and Herr Stump. The metronomised
_Ninth Symphony_ please hand to the Philharmonic Society. Enclosed find
the markings.

                   Your most devoted friend,

                                                        BEETHOVEN.


                                 XIII.

                 SCHINDLER to B. SCHOTT SOHNE, Mainz.

                                            _Vienna, April_ 12, 1827.

I would already have liked to take the liberty of forwarding to you the
enclosed document in the name of our Beethoven as his dying request;
but after the passing away of our friend, there was so much business
to attend to that I found it impossible. Unfortunately, it was not
possible to get the document legalised, for that Beethoven would
have had to sign it at the law court, which was utterly impossible.
Beethoven, however, requested Court Councillor v. Breuning and myself
to add our names as witnesses, as we were both present. We, therefore,
believe that it will serve the purpose for which it was drawn up. I
must further mention that in this document you possess the _last_
signature of this immortal man; for this was the last stroke of his pen.

I cannot now refrain from telling you something about the last hours
when he was still conscious (namely, on the 24th of March, from early
morning until about one o'clock in the afternoon), for to you, sirs,
this will surely be of great interest. When I came to him on the
morning of the twenty-fourth of March, I found his face quite drawn;
moreover, he was so weak that with the greatest effort he could only
utter two or three intelligible words. The _Ordinarius_ soon arrived,
and, after watching him for a few moments, said to me: 'Beethoven's
end is rapidly approaching.' As the business of the Will had been
settled, so far as was possible, the previous day, there remained for
us only one ardent wish: to get him reconciled with heaven, in order
that the world might also be shown that he ended his life as a true
Christian. The Professor Ordinarius wrote it down, and begged him in
the name of all his friends, to partake of the Sacrament for the dying,
whereupon he answered calmly and steadily: 'I will.' The doctor went
away, leaving me to see to this. Beethoven then said to me: 'My only
request is that you write to Schott and send him the document: he _will
need it_. And write to him in my name, for I am too weak, and say
that I much desire him to send the wine. Also, if you have still time
to-day, write to England.' The clergyman came about twelve o'clock,
and the religious ceremony took place in the most edifying manner. And
now for the first time he seemed to feel that his end was approaching,
for the clergyman had scarcely gone when he said to me and to young v.
Breuning: '_Plaudite amici, comœdia finita est!_' Have I not always
said that it would be thus? He then, once again, begged me not to
forget Schott; also again to write in his name to the Philharmonic
Society[88] to thank them for their great gift, and to add that the
Society had comforted his last days, and that even on the brink of the
grave he thanked the Society and the whole English nation for the great
gift. God bless them.

At this moment the chancery servant of v. Breuning entered the room
with the case of wine and the decoction, about quarter to one o'clock.
I put the two bottles of Rüdesheimer and the two other bottles of the
decoction on the table at his bedside. He looked at them, saying: ''Tis
a pity, a pity, too late!' These were his last words. Immediately
after, commenced the death throes, so that he could not utter a sound.
Towards evening he lost consciousness and became delirious, which
lasted up to the evening of the 25th, when visible signs of approaching
death appeared. In spite of it, he died only on the 26th at quarter to
six o'clock in the evening.

This death struggle was terrible to behold, for his constitution,
especially his chest, was like that of a giant. Of your Rüdesheimer, he
took still a few spoonfuls until he passed away.

Thus I have the pleasure of acquainting you with the last three days of
our unforgettable friend.

In conclusion, accept the assurance, etc.,

                                                  ANTON SCHINDLER.


                              FOOTNOTES:

[85] For the Letters, I have been kindly allowed by Messrs. J. M.
Dent & Co., to use Mr. J. S. Shedlock's splendid translation in his
monumental, "_Letters of Ludwig van Beethoven_" (2 volumes, 1909),
which contain no less than 7,220 documents.

[86] The variations mentioned were those for Piano and Violin on the
well-known theme, _Se vuol ballar_, from Mozart's _Figaro_. (See page
224, 1A).

[87] Quotation from a well-known song.

[88] This English Society had sent him a present of £100 and a
magnificent edition of Handel which gave him the greatest pleasure
during his last days.




                               THOUGHTS




       [ILLUSTRATION: PAGE OF AUTOGRAPH OF "MOONLIGHT" SONATA.]
                   (IN BEETHOVEN'S HOUSE AT BONN.)

                                              _To face page_ 100.




                               THOUGHTS


                               ON MUSIC.

"_Il n'y a pas de règle qu'on ne peut blesser à cause de_ SCHÖNER"
(There is no rule which one cannot break for the sake of BEAUTY). This
expression appears in the original in French except for the last word
_Schöner_.

                 *       *       *       *       *

"Music ought to create and fan the fire of the spirit of man."

                 *       *       *       *       *

"Music is a higher revelation than the whole of wisdom and the whole of
philosophy.... He who penetrates the meaning of my music shall be freed
from all the misery which afflicts others."

                          (To Bettina, 1810.)

                 *       *       *       *       *

"There is nothing finer than to approach the Divine and to shed its
rays on the human race."

                 *       *       *       *       *

"Why do I write? What I have in my heart must come out; and that is why
I compose."

                 *       *       *       *       *

"Do you believe that I think of a divine violin when the spirit speaks
to me and that I write what it dictates?"

                          (To Schuppanzigh.)

                 *       *       *       *       *

"According to my usual manner of composing, even in my instrumental
music, I always have the whole in my mind; here, however, that whole is
to a certain extent divided, and I have afresh to think myself into the
music."

     (To Treitschke: from correspondence concerning Beethoven's musical
     settings to some of his poems. Treitschke was the man who revised
     the libretto of _Fidelio_ when it was seriously thought of reviving
     it.)
                 *       *       *       *       *

"One should compose without a piano. The faculty of expressing what one
desires and feels (which is so essential a need to noble natures) comes
only by degrees."

                      (To the Archduke Rudolph.)

                 *       *       *       *       *

"The descriptions of a picture belong to painting; even the poet in
this matter may, in comparison with my art, esteem himself lucky, for
his domain in this respect is not so limited as mine, yet the latter
extends further into other regions, and to attain to our kingdom is not
easy."

      (To Wilhelm Gerhardi in Leipzig from Nussdorf, July, 1817.)

                 *       *       *       *       *

"Liberty and progress are the goals of art just as of life in
general. If we are not as solid as the old masters, the refinement of
civilization has at least enlarged our out-look."

                        (To Archduke Rudolph.)

                 *       *       *       *       *

"I am not in the habit of altering my compositions when they are once
finished. I have never done this, for I hold firmly that the slightest
change alters the character of the composition."

              (To George Thomson, publisher, Edinburgh.)

                 *       *       *       *       *

"Pure Church music ought to be performed entirely _by the voices
only_, except for the _Gloria_ or words of that kind. That is why
I prefer Palestrina; but it would be absurd to imitate him without
possessing his spirit and his religious convictions."

                    (To the organist Freudenberg.)

                 *       *       *       *       *

"When your piano pupil has the proper fingering, the exact rhythm and
plays the notes correctly, pay attention only to the style; do not stop
for little faults or make remarks on them until the end of the piece.
This method produces _musicians_, which after all is one of the chief
aims of musical art.... For the passage work (virtuosity) make him
use all the fingers freely.... Doubtless by employing fewer fingers
a 'pearly' effect is obtained--as it is put--'like a pearl.' But one
likes other jewels at times."

                             (To Czerny.)

     (The Baron de Trémont wrote in 1809, "Beethoven's piano playing was
     not very correct and his manner of fingering was often faulty; the
     quality of his tone was not beyond reproach. But who could dream of
     the player? One was completely absorbed by the thoughts which his
     hands tried to express as well as they could.")


                 *       *       *       *       *

"Amongst the old masters, only Handel and Sebastian Bach had true
genius."

                   (To the Archduke Rudolph, 1819.)

                 *       *       *       *       *

"My heart beats in entire concord with the lofty and grand art of
Sebastian Bach, that patriarch of harmony (_dieses Urvaters der
Harmonie_.")

                        (To Hofmeister, 1801.)

                 *       *       *       *       *

"I have always been one of the greatest admirers of Mozart, and I shall
remain so until my latest breath."

                     (To the Abbé Stadler, 1826.)

                 *       *       *       *       *

"I admire your works above all other pieces for the theatre. I am in
ecstasy each time I hear a new work by you, and I take more interest
in them than in my own. In brief, I admire you and I love you.... _You
will always remain the one I esteem most amongst all my contemporaries.
If you wish to give me an extreme pleasure do write me a few lines.
That would give me great satisfaction. Art unites everybody_, how much
more true artists, _and perhaps you will consider me also worthy_ of
being counted one of this number."

                         (To Cherubini, 1823.)

     (The words in italics are in French in the original with some
     defective spelling. This letter to Cherubini was not answered.)


                             ON CRITICISM.

"In all that concerns me as an artist, no one has ever heard me say
that I pay the least attention to what has been written about me."

                          (To Schott, 1825.)

                 *       *       *       *       *

"I think with Voltaire that mere fly-stings will not hold back a
run-away horse."

                                (1826.)

                 *       *       *       *       *

"As for these idiots, one can only let them talk. Their prattling will
certainly not make anyone immortal, any more than it will raise to
immortality any of those whom Apollo has destined for it."

                                (1801.)

                 *       *       *       *       *




                          THE NINE SYMPHONIES




                          THE NINE SYMPHONIES


                  SYMPHONY No. 1 in C major, Opus 21.

                  Dedicated to the Baron van Swieten.

_Adagio molto--Allegro con brio--Andante cantabile con moto--Minuetto e
Trio--Finale._

Although this Symphony was originally performed at the first of the
composer's personally-arranged concerts in Vienna, on April 2nd, 1800,
the sketches for it extend over the preceding five years. Though the
symphony is in the composer's first period style, it does not rank
amongst the very finest works of this period. The slow introduction
starts on a dominant seventh out of the key.

                                [Music score]

 The musical quotations are taken from E. Pauer's excellent piano solo
 arrangements of the Symphonies (Augener Ltd.).

The first movement proper is orthodox in form, and only once or twice
do we catch a glimpse of the Beethoven to be, notably in the muttering
bass passages near the end of the exposition. The _Andante_ which is
also in Sonata-form proper and opens fugally, contains some original
drum-work. The Minuet, purely Haydnesque, shows a certain delight in
orchestral colour.

                                [Music score]

In the trio the first chord is struck no less than nine times, as
though the young composer was entirely occupied with the charm of his
orchestral colouring. The _Finale_ is not highly individual. The work
is scored for strings, wood-wind, two horns, two trumpets and two drums.


                      2nd SYMPHONY in D, Opus 36.

                 Dedicated to Prince Carl Lichnovsky.

_Adagio molto--Allegro con brio--Larghetto--Scherzo and Trio--Allegro
molto._

In the Second Symphony, which is a great advance on the first,
the composer's hold of his subject is much firmer and the subjects
themselves are more striking.

                                [Music score]

The _Larghetto_ is full of lovely curves, and there is some charming
conversational work between the wood-wind instruments. The horn passage
is the precursor of many fine symphony subjects of a martial nature for
the horns.

                                [Music score]

Whilst the chromatic harmony is purely Mozartian, the _Scherzo_ is a
genuine Beethovenian outburst, full of verve and piquant in touch.

                                [Music score]

There is a feeling of broadness about the brilliant and energetic
_Finale_ which is absent from the _Finale_ of the First Symphony.


    3rd SYMPHONY, Opus 35, "Eroica" in E flat. Dedicated to Prince
                              Lobkovitz.

_Allegro con brio--Marcia funèbre--Scherzo and Trio--Finale._

This Symphony was completed in August, 1804, and first performed
on April 7th, 1805. The French Ambassador at Vienna had suggested
that Beethoven should write a work on the grand scale based on his
admiration for Napoleon as the saviour of France from the horrors of
the Revolution; and it is a fact that Beethoven actually dedicated this
Symphony to Napoleon, but when the news came that the First Consul had
declared himself Emperor, Beethoven tore up the title page in a rage
and added the following superscription:--


 _Sinfonia Eroica, composta per festeggiare il Souvenire di un
 grand' Uomo, E dedicata A Sua Altezza Serenissima Il Principe di
 Lobkovitz da Luigi van Beethoven, Op. 55 No. III. delle Sinfonie._

This is one of the grandest and most powerful of the works in the
Second Period style. It is noteworthy that all the principal themes are
based on the intervals of the common chord, or on the little pendant of
the diminished third which forms the tail of the first subject.

The work opens _in medias res_ with two strong chords, the chief
subject entering on the cellos.

                                [Music score]

There is some lovely responsive work between the wood-wind and the
string bands for the second subject. The development is masterly and
embraces a wonderful new subject, first entering on the oboes in
the strange key of E minor. The recapitulation is approached in a
marvellous way--the climax of the development being reached with a
chord in C flat, the echoing reflections of which gradually die away
until they reach a mere shimmering of violins, into which is suddenly
thrown an unexpected entrance of the horn with the chief theme in the
tonic key. Was it a slip? Of course not. Rather a stroke of genius. The
movement has an immense _coda_, which with Beethoven at this period
amounts to a second development.

The Funeral March is one of the grandest things in music. It is a
pageant of a great world tribulation rather than an elegy for Napoleon,
who was certainly not dead at that time. More probably Beethoven's mind
was occupied with the misery and wretchedness caused by war than with
the single hero of that period who reaped both glory and dishonour at
one blow. The oboe subject in the Trio portion is only one of many
wonderful passages in this piece. The speaking bass melodies, the
majestic second subject on the strings almost bursting with eloquence,
and the wonderful coda, not broken-hearted but buoyed up by the rhythm
of things viewed broadly. Any attempt to connect the _Scherzo_ and
_Finale_ with Napoleon must fail ludicrously. The _Scherzo_ is simply
one of Beethoven's finest productions in one of his bubbling, vivacious
moods. The three horns have a subject which appears to be a genuine
hunting call.

                                [Music score]

It is a seven-bar phrase, the echoes to which are enchantingly
coloured. The common chordal formation of the duple time interjection
near the end suggests something more massive, and the little _coda_
figure, _E flat, E natural, F_, comes from the opening theme of the
Symphony. The _Finale_ is an amazing set of variations, the bass of the
eight-bar theme being displayed and varied many times before the melody
itself enters at the eightieth bar; and even then we continually hark
back to the bass. It is not until the close, after the melody has been
given at a slow rate on the wood-wind in its proper setting, that it is
taken up triumphantly and carried victoriously into the coda. Beethoven
used this particular theme four times--in a Contretanz, in his _Finale_
to the _Men of Prometheus_, as the theme for his set of variations for
piano, Opus 35 and in this Symphony. This curious method of writing
a set of variations recurs 20 years later in the Ninth Symphony. A
somewhat similar process has been adopted by Elgar in his _Enigma
Variations_, as the theme used there is said to be the counter-subject
of a concealed melody.


                   4th SYMPHONY in B flat, Opus 60.

                    Dedicated to Count Oppensdorf.

          _Adagio--Allegro vivace--Adagio--Menuetto--Finale._

This happy and serene work has been undeservedly overshadowed by its
two towering neighbours. Schumann has called it a slender Greek maiden
between two Norse giants. The opening _Adagio_ sounds the only dark
mood in the Symphony.

                                [Music score]

It is lashed on to the _Allegro_ by some powerful violin scales.

                                [Music score]

The flute, oboe and bassoon converse sportively over the second
subject. A strange sequential passage in unison upon the strings in
three-bar phrases following a happy little canon on the wood-wind
instruments and some powerful syncopations lead in to the development.
An atmosphere of humour and good feeling permeates the movement.

The lovely melody which forms the chief theme of the _Adagio_ is given
to the violins. It is accompanied by a strong persistent rhythmic
figure, which is transferred later on to the drums with great effect.
The wood-wind work and the horn passages are exquisite.

The third movement _Allegro vivace_ is full of fun, lively syncopations
and duple time effects giving it more of the nature of a _Scherzo_.

                                [Music score]

It has a charmingly tender trio and a coda of exquisite poetry ending
with Schumann's "Just one more question for the horn to put" before the
final crash. This is one of the longest movements which Beethoven has
written in this form. The bright, sunny mood of the opening movements
increases in the radiant _Finale_. There the modulations are surprising
and the touches of humour delightful. The little skirmish on the part
of the bassoon just before the return, the whimsical little notes on
the flutes and violins, the augmentation of the subject as it fades
away into the stealthy questionings between the violins and bassoons
near the end, are but a few of the many little quips and sallies.


                   5th SYMPHONY in C minor, Opus 67.

  Dedicated to the Prince von Lobkovitz and the Count von Rasumovsky.

_Allegro con brio--Andante con moto--Scherzo and Trio--Finale Allegro._

This famous Symphony with its rugged first movement, its lovely
_Andante_, its mysterious _Scherzo_ and its proud, fiery _Finale_, was
first performed together with the so-called Sixth Symphony on December
22nd, 1808. The Pastoral Symphony No. 6 was probably written before the
5th.

The first movement opens without introduction with the famous phrase of
four unison notes which Beethoven once explained as "Thus fate knocks
at the door."

                                [Music score]

From this tiny germ the whole of this fierce stormy movement is
evolved. Not even the beautiful tender second subject, nor the lovely
little unbarred oboe cadenza can win it away from this rugged fierce
mood. When this second subject appears in the recapitulation, still
in the minor, the atoning major outburst which immediately follows is
quickly brushed aside by the impatience of the reinstated first theme.
Even the limitations of the old-fashioned horns and trumpets in those
days seemed to be turned to advantage in the colossal bare thirds and
fourths of the "Fate" notes.

The chief theme of the _Andante_, wonderfully sad, yet wonderfully
beautiful, is further enhanced by one of those majestic marching
subjects which only Beethoven could conceive. The beauty of the
wood-wind work is remarkable and the coda is full of strange fancies.

                                [Music score]

The _Scherzo_ has some eloquent bass passages, and its rhythmic horn
figures are full of veiled mystery and heavy with some dark foreboding.

                                [Music score]

The trio is a fiery _Fugato_ with strange outbursts on the basses.
The curious hesitations on its re-appearance and the weird bridge
passages at the end, with the long sustained chord on the strings and
the mysterious drum tapping, cause the movement to veer gradually round
to the fiery march-like coda, with its light, graceful, contrasted
episodes. The _Scherzo_ theme insinuates itself into the _Finale_ near
the coda, which is of amazing brilliancy, ending with a _Presto_ which
fairly sweeps the hearer away with it.

The orchestra is the largest the composer has used so far. It includes
three trombones, double bassoon, and piccolo, which, however, are only
used for the brilliant _Finale_.


                6th SYMPHONY (Pastoral) in F, Opus 68.

      Dedicated to Prince von Lobkovitz and Count von Rasumovsky.

    _Pastoral Symphony, or a recollection of country life. More an
                expression of feeling than a painting._

   _Allegro ma non troppo--Andante molto moto--Allegro--Allegretto._

This Symphony, often slighted on account of its so-called realisms and
its classification amongst "programme music," is, nevertheless, one of
the finest pieces in the whole range of absolute music. The labelling
of the various movements by Beethoven--"Joyous sensations roused by
arrival in the country," "Scene by the brook," "Merry gathering of
country peasants," "Thunderstorm," "Glad and grateful feeling after the
storm"--is quite superfluous. How artistically Beethoven has introduced
the bird calls--the quail, the nightingale, and the cuckoo--into just
the right place--the coda of the _Andante_. And the thunder-storm. What
a magnificent introduction to the _Finale_ it makes! Beethoven has
never once transgressed the great principles of form and balance in
this Symphony.

The opening movement is a true country picture, full of the tonics and
dominants of summer happiness.

                                [Music score]

Bird-like twitterings and horn calls come from all directions, yet
how perfectly balanced it all is and what a marvel of development!
The scene by the brook with its drowsy re-iterated figure on the
under-current of divided strings is the very Bourdon ever sounding in
Nature herself.

                                [Music score]

Wagner has not forgotten this in his _Woodland Murmurs_. The dance of
the villagers, founded on the old country dances, is full of humorous
touches, the drowsy bassoon notes, the romp round, and into this almost
without warning, breaks the storm. A remarkably controlled storm it is,
too, free from any vulgarity. A lovely bit of blue sky showing at the
end, leads straight into the shepherd's song of thankfulness, which
although containing several interesting points, the triple pedal at the
opening with its horn yodel, etc., is somewhat lengthy and not very
interesting. Beethoven had once intended to introduce words and chorus
here, "Lord, we thank Thee," and it seems a pity that this idea was not
carried out.


                   7th SYMPHONY in A major, Opus 92.

                 Dedicated to Count Moritz von Fries.

        _Poco sostenuto--Vivace--Allegretto--Scherzo--Finale._

This Symphony was completed in May, 1812, but was not performed until
December, 1813, at a Concert undertaken by Maelzel for the benefit
of the wounded soldiers at the Battle of Hanau, October 30th, which
Concert also contained Beethoven's _Battle Symphony_. In form, the
Symphony contains nothing unusual. In subject, it is full of romance
and colour from beginning to end.

Opening with a long introduction, which is almost a movement in
itself, this contains a strong marching figure, and runs into the
_Vivace_ by the means of a half cadence. The _Vivace_, a rhythmical
movement in 6-8 time, is full of a verve and vitality which seems to
reach its fullest power on the horns and wind instruments with their
tucketting rhythms.

                                [Music score]

The _Coda_ amounts to a second development, and the whole movement goes
with a splendid swing from beginning to end.

Rhythm but of another kind is also paramount in the elegiac
pageant-like movement designated _Allegretto_, but curiously enough
marked by Beethoven himself at 76, by Maelzel's newly-invented
metronome. It is a highly coloured pageant, seen through a veil of
mist, typified by the wonderful six-four chord on the wood-wind with
which it commences and concludes. The structure of the _Scherzo_ (here
marked _Presto_) has a strong relationship with its splendid fire and
strong duple time effects to that in the 6th Symphony. The romance of
the Trio with its wonderful low horn work is equally fine, and the
movement is broadened out to considerable length by the return of the
_Trio_ and of the _Presto_, thus making it a kind of Rondo--A, B, A, B,
A--to say nothing of the humorous juxta-position of the two near the
end.

The _Finale_ is also planned on the big scale, colossal in force and
mighty in stride. There is a curious perversity of scale in the First
Subject as though Beethoven was no longer satisfied with the ordinary
major. The marvellous stride of the Bass at the end is not the least
amazing of the features in this wonderful movement. Perhaps, this
symphony holds together as one complete whole more than any other. It
gives one the impression of having been written uninterruptedly from
the first movement to last.


                  8th SYMPHONY, in F major, Opus 93.

   _Allegro vivace e con brio--Allegretto--Presto--Allegro vivace._

"The little one," as Beethoven affectionately called this symphony,
was written during four months of the summer and early autumn of 1812.
It is smaller in scale, slighter in texture, than the other symphonies.
Erroneously regarded as a return to an earlier style, and labouring
for some time under the absurd title of "Ballet-Symphony," it has been
somewhat neglected in the past. Without the grandeur of the Fifth or
the romance of the Seventh, it contains a lasting, if less easy, charm,
perfect finish, and a rich fund of good humour. Only a small orchestra
is used, but it is handled in a masterly way, as the octave drums in
the masterly finale, the charming _staccato_ chords for wood-wind
with boisterous interjections from the full orchestra, the running
conversations between the violins and the basses, fully testify.

The first movement is in the usual development form.

                                [Music score]

A sprightly _Allegretto_ takes the place of the slow movement. The
third movement goes back to the early minuet, instead of the Scherzo.

                                [Music score]

The final movement is a masterpiece of construction and development
which its astounding interruptions so amply justifies finally.

                                [Music score]


  9th SYMPHONY, in D minor, With Final Chorus on Schiller's "Ode to
                           Joy." (Op. 125).

 _Allegro ma non troppo un poco maestoso--Molto vivace--Adagio molto e
                      cantabile--Choral Finale._

It is important to remember, as M. Romain Rolland has reminded us,
that this is not a Choral Symphony in the strict sense of the term,
but a "Symphony with a Final Chorus." The choral _Finale_ was written
by Beethoven in a separate MS., and, as with most of his other final
movements, he seems to have expected no closer connection with the
preceding three movements than that of general suitability. His
original idea for a last movement to this Symphony was the Finale of
the String Quartet in A minor, Opus 132, but for some reason or other
his sketches for voices on Schiller's Ode were taken up again and
worked into a _Finale_ for this Symphony. Ten years had elapsed between
the completion of the Eighth Symphony and the consummation of the
Ninth, the colossal first three movements of which are on the highest
plane of all music. As to the complete success of the choral numbers,
opinions differ widely. The first movement, colossal in conception and
dignified in tone, has moods of great passion and wonderful tenderness.
The opening theme is mighty in aspiration, rugged in power.

                                [Music score]

The second movement is the _Scherzo_, one of Beethoven's longest, and
perhaps his very finest. It is all brought about by the little germ
theme of three notes, which, amongst other things, suggests an unusual
tuning of the drums in octaves. A _fugato_ follows, after which the
second subject enters in the unorthodox key of C major. It is here that
many conductors take upon themselves to thicken Beethoven's wood-wind
melody, with the brass instruments. The _Trio_ is built up on a
delightful double theme ushered in by the very first entry of the bass
trombone.

                                [Music score]

The _Adagio_ opens with a melody of the utmost nobility, perfect in
curve, and of a marvellous serenity.

                                [Music score]

A sudden modulation brings us to a new subject in D major in 3/4 time.

                                [Music score]

The first subject then re-appears in G major, this is followed by a
mystic passage in E flat major, in which fragments of the first theme
appear after the manner of a dreamy meditation in which there is some
magnificent work for the horn. The first subject then appears in the
original key and gradually passes over into a solemn and majestic
_coda_. The form is original, even with Beethoven.

Immediately a huge hubbub breaks out from the whole of the wood-wind
instruments. A short hasty review of a few bars from each of the first
three movements follows, and after the bass instruments had commented
rather brusquely on these appearances, the famous tune in D major
breaks in on the cellos and basses alone. The melody gradually unfolds
itself but finally is suddenly broken off by the discordant hubbub
again, and the solo baritone voice enters with the words, "O brothers,
not these tones."

                                [Music score]

The opening quartet and chorus is based entirely on the famous tune.
The following number is a tenor solo and chorus to the accompaniment of
a military band with all the appurtenances thereof--big drum, triangle
and cymbals. A broad chorus follows, _Andante maestoso, a capella_ in
style; and as movement after movement enters, the devout feeling of
mysticism and awe increases, until the final chorus

                _Chant one greeting, myriads countless_

caps with warm dazzling sunlight one of the highest peaks in all music.




                        THE PIANOFORTE SONATAS




                        THE PIANOFORTE SONATAS


                 1st SONATA, Op. 2, No. 1, in F minor.

The first Sonata has the usual four movements of the Haydn form:
_Allegro--Adagio--Menuetto and Trio--Prestissimo_. The first and the
last are in the usual Sonata form proper. The slow movement follows
Mozartian lines. This Sonata is the first of the set of three in this
Opus, which are all dedicated to Joseph Haydn, and the fact of such a
superscription points to the respect which Beethoven had for the older
composer, although he could not find it in his heart to continue with
him long as his pupil. The whole of the Sonata, which appeared for the
first time in 1796 and was probably written much earlier, is decidedly
conventional in form, and shews us Beethoven starting on the lines laid
down by those who went before him--Philip Emanuel Bach, Haydn, and
Mozart.

The first movement is pure Haydn music, and the only glimmer of the
future Beethoven comes in with that lovely little tune at the _Coda_.
The development portion is thin and characterless. The first subject
of the second movement was adapted from an early pianoforte quartet.
A similar process was resorted to in the first movement of the third
Sonata of this set for the second subject. The expression of this
movement is not deep, nor does it sound that note of serenity which we
regard as the chief characteristic of a Beethoven slow movement of the
mature period.

The _Minuet and Trio_ is purely Mozartian, especially in its double
counterpoint and its inversion of parts. Some characteristic touches
are found in the second subject of the last movement, which is in two
parts, and the use of an altogether new subject in the development
portion. This device is next used in the Sonata in F, Opus 10, No.
2--a device carried to great perfection in the development portion of
the first movement of the _Eroica Symphony_. The use of this broad
subject does away with any idea of development, although the movement
is built up on a figure of three chords, a point referred to in both
codas. The first part of the second subject has that weird, foreboding
feeling, which we feel frequently in Schumann's music. Already he shews
a striking fondness for the diminished third; but the passage is not
particularly striking. Far otherwise is the beautiful little tune of
eight bars which forms the second part of this subject.


                    2nd SONATA, Op. 2, No. 2, in A.

_Allegro vivace--Largo appassionata--Scherzo and Trio--Rondo grazioso._

There is a distinct advance in the second Sonata. Although there are
still the accepted four movements, the Minuet has now become a Scherzo.
This Sonata was probably written shortly after the first, and in it
we see how quickly Beethoven took a firm hold of form and design in
construction. There is a feeling of considerable power about the first
subject, and its short, pithy figures promise well for the development
portion, a fact of which Beethoven takes immediate advantage.

The second subject has a dual tonality, beginning in E minor and ending
in E major. This, of course, re-appears in the final section in A minor
and major. There is considerable double counterpoint, and we have the
characteristic rumblings in the bass. The canon in three parts at
the octave, in the development portion, taxes the right hand of most
players. The recapitulation is shortened and considerably altered.

In the _Largo Appassionata_ we get very near to the grandeur of
Beethoven's middle style. The opening subject has serenity, and there
is scarcely anything passionate in the whole movement which breathes of
solemn yet tender earnestness. This movement may be regarded as either
in Rondo form or in Ternary form. There is a powerful episode in flats
near the end, but the music closes with an epilogue full of tender
feeling.

We find a right boisterous joy in the _Scherzo_, which is evolved from
one single little figure. The sequence of dominant seventh chords in
the bridge, however, was already somewhat hackneyed even at that time.

The final Rondo is a graceful movement which owes much to Mozart. An
episode leads to the second subject in E major, and this in its turn
to the re-appearance of the first subject in varied form. Then comes a
stormy episode in the minor which gradually subsides into the return
of the first subject, then of the second subject, and finally winds up
with a long _coda_ containing reminiscences of all the subjects.


                3rd SONATA, Opus 2, No. 3, in C major.

          _Allegro con brio--Adagio--Scherzo--Allegro assai._

This, the third of the set of the three early Sonatas dedicated to
Haydn, appeared for the first time on March 9th, 1796, when Beethoven
was twenty-six years of age. Eugen d'Albert regards this Sonata as
essentially a virtuoso piece. This is saying rather much, although he
is right in warning the interpreter against any attempts to render it
mysterious by hyper-critical subtleties.

The first subject of the opening movement is a typical Beethoven
one, evolved from a short figure of two bars. Some brilliant passage
work then occurs. It was certainly Beethoven's custom at this early
period to regard such passages in a more physical sense. The second
subject enters with a dominant minor section, followed by a major
section, in which appears some fine canonic work. The minor part of
this subject, which was adapted from an early pianoforte quartet which
Beethoven had written in his youthful period, abounds in the turns and
trills characteristic of that time. The broken octaves in the coda are
frequently rendered now-a-days by alternate double octaves between the
two hands in demisemiquavers.

The development is much more Beethovenish, containing some striking
double octave cataclysms. There is also a very fine enharmonic change
from an F minor chord to F sharp minor. The Coda is noteworthy as it
includes some fine arpeggio effects and a striking slow _cadenza_.

The second movement, _Adagio_ in E major, opens with one of
Beethoven's dignified slow themes, which is sandwiched in Rondo fashion
with disturbing episodes throughout. The first episode (in E minor)
contains conversational work between the bass and the treble, the left
hand crossing the right for the latter. At the end of the return of
the first theme, there is a very striking example of an interrupted
cadence--the dominant chord of E major being followed by the tonic
chord of C.

The _Scherzo_ (three-four time) is in C major, and should be taken at
a fast rate. It is one of those movements which would have been better
written in six-four time by running two bars into one.

The final movement is a grandiose Rondo--six-eight time--in C major,
which requires a good technique, especially for the left hand. The
second subject is somewhat conventional, but the next episode contains
one of those lovely hymn-like tunes in which Beethoven delights. For
the third episode, the subject of the first episode is repeated, but
here in the tonic key; thus making the form what is known as Modern
Rondo or Sonata Rondo, in contrast to the old Rondo in which every
episode was different. The _Coda_ is remarkable and is certainly of
the virtuoso order. I never play it without thinking of the _Coda_ to
Mendelssohn's _Wedding March_. The sequences at the 15th bar after the
_Vivacissimo_ are not easy to finger. D'Albert fingers the upper part,
3, 4, 5, and the lower three notes with the thumb. Larger hands will
produce a better effect by fingering the right hand top notes, 4, 5,
5, and the alto, 2, 1, 1. The triple shake near the end is frequently
played by an alternation of six-four chords in either hand. There is
a remarkable example of an interrupted cadence here, where D becomes
D sharp leading to an A major chord. These unexpected rallentandos
and calando before the strepitous rush home become a standing
characteristic in Beethoven's music.


                    4th SONATA, Opus 7, in E flat.

   _Allegro molto e con brio--Largo con gran espressione--Allegretto
                            Minore--Rondo._

This Sonata which appeared for the first time on October 7, 1797, is
dedicated to the Countess Babette von Keglevics. The composer, at the
age of twenty-seven was rapidly winning his spurs, but still wrote on
the old lines and with the customary four movements. His Minuet however
has now become a lively movement and lost all traces of its origin in
the stately dance. It is quite likely, however, that the Minuets of
Haydn and Mozart were also taken at a lively rate, incompatible with
the dance.

The first movement in regular "Sonata Form" is in six-eight time, in
happy mood. The joyous rhythm is occasionally emphasised by sforzando
syncopations. The subjects are all very taking, and there are some
striking modulations in the development.

The _Largo_ is full of religious calm. There is a striking interrupted
cadence at bar 19, and one of those majestic march-like movements for
the second subject, which on its return at the end, appears as a tenor
melody. The movement is full of rich colouring. The tones of the flutes
and other wood-wind instruments, may be imitated in parts also the song
of birds.

The first part of the _Allegro_, which takes the place of the Minuet
movement, is much more extended than usual. In place of the Trio, we
have a movement in the tonic minor of low broken chords, full of that
brooding sadness to which Schumann and Brahms in later days became so
prone. This is linked up, however, to the return of the first joyous
theme to which it forms an effective foil. The final Rondo in E flat is
real Mozart, and Mozart at his best. Play the first subject through,
sixteen bars in length. Still the bridge passage which follows is real
Beethoven. He seems fairly obsessed with his little figure, unable to
let it alone, repeating it no less than thirteen times in succession.
There is a virile second subject. The middle episode is stormy and
difficult to play unless one divines intuitively the right action.
There is a remarkable enharmonic change on the last page but one, where
the tonality is moved up a semitone from B flat to B natural (a device
of which the composer is fond), returning seven bars later on by the
chameleon-like "diminished seventh" chord. Reference is made in the
_Coda_ to the rhythm of the stormy middle episode which is here turned
to good use in the brilliant peroration.


                5th SONATA, Opus 10, No. 1, in C minor.

        _Allegro molto e con brio--Adagio molto--Prestissimo._

This Sonata is dedicated to the Countess von Brovne, and appeared for
the first time on September 26, 1798. It is in three movements--the
slow movement in A flat major. There is no _Minuet_ or _Scherzo_, the
_Finale_ instead being instilled with the spirit of the _Scherzo_.

The first movement is the usual development form, the first subject
being composed in Beethoven's usual manner of two figures here, (a)
upward flight, (b) soft chords. It ends with a decided perfect cadence,
the bridge subject entering after a bar's silence. It is noteworthy
that the second subject on its return appears in F major, before
settling down finally into C minor. This first movement, although
in the minor, breathes a happy contented spirit, which deepens into
seriousness in the Adagio. This opens with a beautiful 16 bar phrase.
We then pass straight into the second subject, a florid one in a
lighter vein of thought, closing in E major. A sprinkled dominant
seventh takes the place of the development section, and the whole is
then repeated. For the Coda, the first subject has passed into that
serene happy atmosphere which only Beethoven's spirit seems to have
penetrated. The Finale is again cast into development form, and is
typical of the way Beethoven expands his movements from the smallest
idea. There is a beautiful hymn-like second subject. Characteristically
enough, just before finishing this bubbling movement joyfully, the
composer falls into a deep reverie, but only to brush it aside almost
impatiently by returning to the original idea.


                6th SONATA, Opus 10, No. 2, in F major.

                    _Allegro--Allegretto--Presto._

The tenth Opus, which first appeared on September 26th, 1798, contains
three Sonatas, all dedicated to the Countess von Brovne. The Sonata is
in three movements--the first a movement of development, the second
a _Scherzo_, and the third a playful _Presto_. The whole Sonata is
cast in happy mood. The mysterious and somewhat eerie feeling of the
Minuet being completely dispelled by the happiness of the Trio (which,
curiously, enough, Brahms seems to have written over again in his
Scherzo in E flat minor). The mood at the first part of this _Scherzo_
has a close relationship with the _Scherzo_ in the _Eroica Symphony_.

There are several noteworthy points about the development of the first
movement. It opens with a treatment of the last three notes of the
exposition in capricious manner. The development closes, too, with this
idea, but it also contains a completely new subject in D minor. The
prevalence of this tonality brings in the return section irregularly in
D major. The _Presto_ is one of those playful movements, full of fun
and written broadly in Sonata form lines.


                7th SONATA, Opus 10, No. 3, in D major.

            _Presto--Largo e mesto--Menuetto--Trio--Rondo._

This Sonata is one of the greatest works of the first period, if not,
indeed, the greatest of them all. The first movement is a wonderful
evolution from the first four-note figure, the development full of
all kinds of strong devices, the stormy episode in the middle based
on the rhythm of the opening phrase of the Sonata and the marvellous
slow movement full of passion and tenderness, from its opening five-bar
phrase to its beautiful close with those amazing tonic pedal chords.
The spirited Minuet, really a _Scherzo_ with two bars taken as one, is
admirably contrasted with the Hunting Song of the _Trio_. Did Beethoven
ever use the horse which Count Brovne gave him? The fine Rondo is cast
on the old lines but filled with such new feeling.

The structure of the slow movement is in song form with five sections:--

 (a) Theme in D minor in two parts with cadences in C major and A minor.

 (b) Modulatory section from F to D minor.

 (c) Theme in D minor with cadences in B flat and in D.

 (d) Development of the (a) and (b) sections.

 (e) Concluding portion.


            8th SONATA, (Pathétique), Opus 13, in C minor.

    _Grave--Allegro di molto e con brio--Adagio cantabile--Rondo._

Published for the first time in 1799, and dedicated to the Prince
Carl von Lichnovsky. Although one of the few authentic titles, it is
difficult to see the meaning of its bearing of the Sonata as a whole,
unless indeed it is applied to the sad and dramatic introduction theme
which, indeed, deserves as a leading motive to the first movement being
introduced before the development section, and it ends just before the
coda. The slow movement is of wonderful serenity and breathes a great
religious calm. Still, it was a great offence against good feeling
to make the single a double chant out of it as one of our cathedral
organists has done. The Rondo does not quite reach the high plains of
the first two movements, it was probably written much earlier; note
the reflective mood again just before the final whirlwind. There is no
Scherzo or Minuet in this Sonata.


                9th SONATA, Opus 14, No. 1, in E major.

                     _Allegro--Allegretto--Rondo._

The two Sonatas in this Opus, which is dedicated to the Baroness
von Braun, are not very interesting. No. 9 has no slow movement. The
meditative feeling having, apparently, crept into the _Allegretto_,
which should again be taken as two bars in one. The Rondo in E is of
great beauty and finish. The middle episode has again the feeling of a
hunting song.

They appeared for the first time in December, 1799.


               10th SONATA, Opus 14, No. 2, in G major.

                     _Allegro--Andante--Scherzo._

The first movement, in Sonata form, is a remarkable example of the
growth of a whole movement from a single germ.

The Andante is an air with variations. The form of this is really
ternary, although if the second part be repeated, it will throw the
theme into five sections, A, B, A, B, A. The first variation places
the air in the tenor, the second divides the harmony rhythmically, the
third breaks up the harmony into semiquavers. Purists hold that this
movement is wrongly barred throughout, the first beat coming where the
third now is.

In the last sprightly movement, the _Scherzo_ and _Finale_ seem to have
run into one.

 The only other examples of Beethoven's use of the designation
 _Scherzo_ for a movement not in Scherzo and Trio form are in the
 pianoforte sonata Opus 31 No. 3, and in the string quartet in C minor.


                   11th SONATA, Opus 22, in B flat.

  _Allegro con brio--Adagio con molta espressione--Minuetto--Rondo._

                 Dedicated to the Countess von Brovne.

This Sonata is the finest since the Opus 10, No. 3 in D. It is not so
deep in feeling as some of the preceding pieces, and the composer's
preoccupation with development somewhat duly prolongs the first
movement. It is full, however, of characteristic vigour for its own
sake, and the _Adagio_, long-drawn as it is, possess a great charm.

This long-drawn meditative piece is the only case in the Sonatas
of a slow movement having all the elements of the true Sonata
forms--exposition and development, recapitulation, coda. If the
_Adagio_ breathes of the open country, the Minuet savours of the salon.
In this rather old-fashioned Minuet, the _Trio_ is styled "Minore." The
Rondo with four refrains, the last two varied.


                    12th SONATA, Op. 26, in A flat.

       _Andante con variazioni--Scherzo--Marcia funèbre--Rondo._

             Dedicated to the Prince Carl von Lichnovsky.

This Sonata was announced for the first time on March 3rd, 1802.
Two of the movements are in slow time--an Air with Variations, and a
"Funeral March on the death of a hero." The March is said to have been
written as a set-off to the popular one of that day in Paer's opera,
_Achilles_.

It is not a lamentation, but rather a tragic elegiac picture set
in an impressive frame. One feels the throb of brass, the blare of
trumpets, the roll of muffled drums, the impressive pageantry of
death. The opening _Andante_ is beautiful, and in the variations the
theme breathes as it were through a thin lovely veil. The technique
looks backwards rather than forwards, and the movement ends with a
calm phrase. The final Rondo bubbles with life ceaselessly until it
disappears in a faint whisper.


                13th SONATA, Opus 27, No. 1, in E flat.

                     _Sonata quasi una Fantasia._

    _Andante--Allegro--Andante--Allegro molto e vivace--Adagio con
                     espressione--Allegro vivace._

                  Dedicated to Princess Lichtenstein.

This Sonata was first published together with the following one in C
sharp minor on March 3rd, 1802. They were both composed in 1801, the
happy year of the composer's love for Countess Giuletta Guicciardi.
The term _Fantasia_ by no means implies formlessness, but rather
a departure from the ordinary Sonata form. The first movement--an
_Andante_, full of light and shade--is held by purists to be wrongly
barred throughout, the first beat being the third, and so on. It is
followed by an _Allegro_ in C major which leads back to the return of
the _Andante_, this time varied. The _Allegro_, which takes the place
of the _Scherzo_, is full of imagination and vigour. The slow movement
is used as a bridge leading into the _Finale_. All the movements are
chained together in one whole. Just before the precipitant _Coda_,
Beethoven takes a final glance back at the subject of the _Adagio_.


            14th SONATA, Opus 27, No. 2, in C sharp minor.

            _Adagio sostenuto--Allegretto--Presto agitato._

The title page describes the work as _for clavecin or pianoforte_.
The nickname, "Moonlight," given to it by the poet Rellstab, has no
authority and only serves very faintly to define the peaceful charm
of this sensitive picture, which was more probably inspired by the
composer's romantic love for the Countess Giulietta Guicciardi. The
direction in Italian, "to be played throughout with the greatest
delicacy," is significant, although the term _senza sordini_ is
somewhat vague. It may have meant that it is to be played with the
sustaining pedal, i.e., without the dampers. It is probably a general
indication that the piece requires the pedal to sustain each harmony,
for nowhere is harmony put to such effective use as in the dreamy yet
placid opening _Adagio_. There is scarcely a stir, except where an
occasional minor 9th causes a slight emotional ripple.

A little _Allegretto_ takes the place of the usual Minuet. It might be
a dance of peasants, heard in the distance. The restless and passionate
_Presto_ is one of the finest movements in all the master's works.

Like the preceding Sonata, all the movements follow on without
break. But there is a definite organic connection between them, the
_Finale_, and the opening movement in particular. Compare the first
four semiquavers of the _Presto_ with the second quaver group of the
_Adagio_, and the quaver chords in the second bar of the _Presto_ with
the melodic figure in bars 5 and 6 of the opening movement.

The second subject of the _Finale_ has three well-defined sections,
the first melodic, the second dolorous expressive chords, the third a
souvenir of the first. The _Coda_ is one of the most deeply expressive
things Beethoven has ever written. It ends with a powerful gust of
unpent passion.


                   15th SONATA, Opus 28, in D major.

                  _Allegro--Andante--Scherzo--Rondo._

               Dedicated to Joseph Eiden von Sonnenfels.

It was christened by the Hamburg publisher, Cranz, with the name
of "Pastoral Sonata." The autograph is dated 1801, and the work is
exceeding happy in mood, the last two movements almost boisterously so,
the _Finale_ being a mad gallop home. This Sonata has four movements,
and it is most probable that it was written before the two _Fantasia
Sonatas_. The first movement opens with a phrase of nine bars over a
gentle tapping tonic pedal. It is a splendid specimen of development by
elimination and condensation. In the middle portion, just before the
recapitulation, the phrase seems almost to disappear into thin air.

The _Andante_ in D minor, with its epigrammatic _Trio_ in the tonic
major, was once a great favourite with the composer. The _Scherzo_
which despite its title is really a _Minuet_, is one of his happiest,
and the Rondo is full of the joy of field and forest.


               16th SONATA, Opus 31, No. 1, in G major.

               _Allegro vivace--Adagio grazioso--Rondo._

This Opus contains three Sonatas--a favourite grouping with the
composer. Although No. 1 was published in 1802, this Sonata, so simple
in technique, has the feeling of having been conceived much earlier.
The _Adagio_, with its elaborate flowery passages of no particular
meaning, drops back to the Hummel style, and is developed to a
considerable length. The Rondo is bright and sunshiny throughout.


               17th SONATA, Opus 31, No. 2, in D minor.

                    _Allegro--Adagio--Allegretto._

One of the most splendid of all Beethoven's Sonatas. The opening
movement is full of the most speaking of all Beethoven's sonorous and
passionate recitatives. The _Adagio_ is in full binary form. It is
very expressive, entirely evolved from a three-note figure, a little
Hummelian. The final _Allegretto_ is all spun out from the little
four-note germ said to have been suggested to the composer by the
cantering of a horse.


                18th SONATA, Opus 31, No. 3, in E flat.

        _Allegro--Scherzo--Minuet and Trio--Presto con fuoco._

In this characteristic work, where we find both a Scherzo and a
Minuet, the former in duple time, we again return to four movements.
The mood throughout is of unclouded happiness. It is extremely
interesting throughout, from the first bar which opens in an original
manner with the "added sixth" chord to the Coda which returns to the
same idea.

The _Scherzo_ is in one of Beethoven's freakish moods, full of
capricious turns and fun of all kinds. The third movement is a true
Minuet of the olden style, whilst the _Presto_ is one of those
cantering movements the germ for which must have been derived from the
hunting songs of the people.


          19th SONATA, Opus 49, No. 1, in G minor and major.

                           _Andante--Rondo._

This and the following Sonata, although published in 1802, must have
been written much earlier; in fact, the theme of the G major Rondo was
the original of the Minuet of the _Septet_.


               20th SONATA, Opus 49. No. 2, in G major.

               _Allegro ma non troppo--Minuet and Trio._

This Sonata contains little of interest, both the Allegro and the
Minuet are in the olden style.


                   21st SONATA, Opus 53, in C major.

               _Allegro con brio--Introduzione--Rondo._

This fine Sonata, too often made a mere piece of virtuosity, was
dedicated to Beethoven's early friend and patron, Count Waldstein.
The form is remarkable. A first movement, full of light and colour,
and the romantic _Molto Adagio_ forming an introduction to the final
Rondo with its magnificent _Coda_. Beethoven originally intended the
famous _Andante in F_ for the slow movement of this Sonata, but finally
discarded it in favour of the present slow introduction. The second
hymn-like subject of the first movement does not appear in the tonic
key, either in the exposition or in the recapitulation, but only after
the final development near the end of the piece. The simple subject
of the Rondo was the result as shown of six separate attempts in
Beethoven's note-books. The whole meaning of it is lost unless the low
C of the left hand is taken into the phrase. It will then be seen to
have a close connection with the opening figure of the introduction.
The Rondo is often played too fast, the full effect of the _Coda_ is
often lost by the preceding Rondo being taken too fast.

The _glissando_ octave passage in it is very difficult on modern
pianos on account of the deeper key fall.


                   22nd SONATA, Opus 54, in F major.

This remarkable Sonata, which appeared for the first time in April,
1806, is in two movements only--a _Tempo d'un Menuetto_, in full binary
form (more like a Sonata movement than a Minuet), and a _Allegretto
con moto_ (somewhat Etude-like), with a _Prestissimo_ Coda in which
the hands very easily get tied up. This Sonata is comparatively
little known, doubtless on account of its over topping neighbours,
the _Waldstein_ and the _Appassionata_. Bulow metronomed the opening
movement at the quite moderate rate of 104 to the crotchet. The octave
_bravura_ subject appears there in its full majesty. The _cadenza_ is
noteworthy.


                   23rd SONATA, Opus 57, in F minor.

           (Labelled _Appassionata_ by the publisher Cranz).

      _Assai allegro--Andante con moto with variations--Allegro
                            ma non troppo._

This Sonata, which was dedicated to Count Franz von Brunswick, is
perhaps the most truly characteristic of all Beethoven's sonatas. The
usual portrait of Beethoven with the massive jaws firmly set, the
upturned eyes, the visage lined by suffering, the head of a Titan,
might be quite appropriately placed here in the volume of the Sonatas,
rather than at the beginning; for with the deep passionate note which
sounds ceaselessly throughout the first movement and the immense
vitality of the _Finale_, the calm beauty of the _Andante_ with its
variations, it holds the palm amongst all sonatas written for the
clavier. Hackneyed it certainly is, but even through the indifferent
temperaments of mere finger players, the immense force of the ideas
easily penetrates.

It is a superb example of the growth of Beethoven's immense creations
from two of the tiniest of germs (a) the first three opening
notes--_C_, _A flat_, _F_--(b) the _C_, _D_, _C_ in the third and
fourth bars. The whole sonata grows as naturally from these as the huge
oak from the acorn. Bridge subjects, second subjects, coda figures,
the chief theme of the _Andante_, as also the _impetuoso_ subject of
the _Finale_, are all derived from these two little germs. Lenz calls
the Sonata "a volcanic eruption, which rends the earth and shuts out
the sky with a shower of projectiles." The first movement and the last
movement have truly immense _codas_.

For a clue to this sonata, Beethoven told an enquirer to read
Shakespeare's _Tempest_.


                24th SONATA, Opus 78, in F sharp major.

  _Adagio cantabile (4 bars)--Allegro ma non troppo--Allegro vivace._

This Sonata was composed in October, 1809 (considerably later than
_Les Adieux Sonata_, which was published in July, 1811) and appeared
for the first time in December, 1810. Thus an interval of five years
separates it from the _Sonata Appassionata_. It was dedicated to the
Countess von Brunswick, and the piece was a special favourite with the
composer. A delightful feeling of happiness pervates the whole piece,
and one cannot help feeling that this cheerful mood drew the composer
to the choice of this radiant key. The first four bars form a sort of
question to which the succeeding _Allegro_ supplies the answer.

The movements are succinct in form, almost epigrammatic, and whilst
very gracious and pleasing, are not hefty for all sorts and conditions
of hands. The opening phrase of the Finale is very striking, so, too,
is the coda with its wonderful disappointed cadence and its equally
marvellous finish. The intricate work of the arpeggios relates it to
the E major Sonata, Opus 109, and all the way through it, there is a
curious oscillation betwixt major and minor modes.


                      25th SONATA, Opus 79, in G.

                _Presto alla tedesca--Andante--Vivace._

This is practically a Sonatina, and calls for little mention. Some
authorities regard it as an unfinished sketch, whilst others ascribe
it to a considerably earlier date although it was clearly completed in
1809. The term _Tedesca_ means "in the German style," and has reference
to the country dance, _Ländler_. Beethoven employs the term only
twice in his published works--here and in the fifth movement of the B
flat quartet, Opus 130, where he describes the movement in one of the
sketches as _Allemande Allegro_. In a Bagatelle, No. 3 of Opus 119, he
uses the term in French, _A l'allemande_.

The first movement gives some good practice in crossing the hands. The
second movement might easily be mistaken for a gondolier's song by
Mendelssohn. The third movement is a lively _Con Moto_ in simple Rondo
form.


                   26th SONATA, Opus 81a, in E flat.

       _Adagio--Allegro--Andante espressivo--Vivacissimamente._

Styled by Beethoven himself, _Les adieux, l'absence, et la retour_.
(The parting, the absence, and the return). As such it is the finest
piece of programme music ever written. It is dedicated to his friend
and patron, the Archduke Rudolph, but it is not known definitely
that it was connected with the absence of the Archduke himself. The
general feeling seems to suggest a more tender attachment. The music is
Beethoven at his very best, and is truly representative of his mature
period. The interrelation of the whole of the music, its close affinity
with the opening musical motto of three notes, under which Beethoven
wrote _Lebe-wohl_ (Fare thee well) is astounding. Whether written in
clear notes or obscured subtly, this leading motive lies at the bottom
of every phrase. It is the generating idea, the essence of the whole
Sonata. Although we have styled it programme music, it would be the
greatest mistake, however, to regard it as something pictorial and
definite. The idea is only used as the generating impulse of each of
the three chief movements, and the work loses no whit (perhaps, even
gains) by being heard as a piece of absolute music. Those interested in
musical psychology will find it, however, a most interesting study to
trace the derivation of the various phrases of the opening _Allegro_ of
the _Andante_ (see bass chords), and even of the _Finale_ to one of the
two tiny cellules found in the first three bars of the introduction.
The movements are all in Sonata form. The _Andante_ has no development
section and runs into the _Finale_ without break.


                      27th SONATA, Opus 90, in E.

   _Con vivacità a sempre con sentimento ed espressione--Non troppo
                           presto (Rondo)._

This work, completed on August 16th, 1814, appeared for the first time
in June, 1815. It is in two movements, and is one of the first works
in which Beethoven gave bi-lingual _tempo_ indications (Italian and
German), the other example being _Les Adieux_ Sonata, Opus 81. On one
occasion, in 1815, when the Englishman Neate was discussing the meaning
of music with Beethoven, the composer admitted somewhat vaguely that
he "never worked without a picture in his mind." Be this as it may,
the composer was always greatly enraged when other people attempted to
fix pictures to his music, as did the publisher who gave the title "La
chasse" to the unchristened overture, Op. 115. The first movement has
a tender wistful charm and romantic feeling; it is the very poetry of
sound. The first subject with its three themes is square-cut, exactly
24 bars in length, ending with a perfect cadence in the tonic key. The
development is closely knit, and the overlapping phrases with their
diminution and augmentation, which bring in the return of the first
subject, are as wonderful as they are convincing.

Schindler relates that Beethoven, referring to these two movements,
said: "The first might represent 'Combat between Heart and Head,'
and the second, 'Dialogue with the beloved one.'" Be this as it may,
the Rondo, judging from the interior evidence, was written first.
In many of his sonatas the only connection apparently aimed at
between the various movements is that of right contrast and suitable
key-relationship.


                  28th SONATA, Opus 101, in A major.

     _Allegretto ma non troppo--Vivace alla Marcia--Adagio ma non
                      troppo--Allegro risoluto._

Dedicated to Freund Dorothea Ertmann and performed for the first time
as new on February 18th, 1816; it was not published until February,
1817. With this Sonata we reach the third period of Beethoven's works,
that in which reflection and philosophy play such a great part. Many
passages in some of his latest works reach such a massive spaciousness
that they seem to lose all touch of human comprehension. Beethoven was
seeking a new style, in striving after which his music became more and
more contrapuntal. One cannot help connecting his use of the fugue
in many of his later works with this new phase. But it was not the
fugue of Bach, but one filled with sublimity and mysticism in which he
attempted to render the spiritual force more and more concentrated,
the meaning sometimes becomes completely dissipated in his attempt to
grasp and hold it. Such is not the case, however, with the fugue with
which this Sonata ends. It grows out of the chief theme of the Finale
and forms the development portion in this combination of the Fugue and
Sonata form proper.

The martial feeling in the first movement seems to have produced a
substitute for the _Minuet_ or _Scherzo_ movement. The _trio_ with its
prolonged coda is in deep poetic vein. The _Largo_ is permeated with
profound feeling and is connected with the _Finale_ by a reminiscence
of the first movement. The whole work is entirely happy and presents an
untroubled frame of mind.


                        29th SONATA, Opus 106.

             _Allegro--Scherzo--Adagio sostenuto--Fugue._

The first two movements were finished in April, 1818; the two last
were composed in the summer of that year. The Sonata was ready for
publication in March, 1819, but did not appear until September, 1819.
It carried the sub-title "Sonata for the Hammerclavier."[89] It is
dedicated to the staunch friend and patron, the Archduke Rudolph, and
is the longest of all Beethoven's sonatas, being about twice as long as
the longest of the others. The first movement (over four hundred bars
in length) is evolved from the two little germs contained in the first
two bars. There is a long bridge passage in which derivative themes
occur before the second subject in three sections. A long development
follows and a superb return with a powerful coda. In the three bars
preceding the return, all the "A sharps" are usually misprinted
"natural." This A sharp should be the enharmonic of the following B
flat.

The _Scherzo_ is fantastic in the extreme. From the playful mood of
the first part it is suddenly plunged into the inexpressible anguish of
the minor trio. A short _Presto_ unison phrase of eight bars brushes
this aside, a tremor on a minor ninth preceding the happy return of the
Scherzo.

The _Adagio_ is one of the sublimest things in all music. It certainly
reaches heights which transcend the limits of the piano. A remarkable
bridge, which changes mood no less than six times, forms a sort of
prelude to the final fugue which is drawn from the opening germ of the
work. It is a struggle of giants, unbridled in its onslaught. _Fuga
a tre voci, con alcune licenze_ Beethoven marked it, and its great
licenses and amazing contortions have puzzled many minds. The heavenly
interludes, however, transport one into the pure air of the _Sanctus_
of the Mass in D. The similarity of the opening phrases of the
_Allegro_, the _Scherzo_ and the _Adagio_, should be noticed. It was by
such means that Brahms later on strove to unify the separate movements
of his longer forms.


                  30th SONATA, Opus 109, in E major.

     _Vivace ma non troppo--Prestissimo--Andante and Variations._

                  Dedicated to Maximiliana Brentano.

Written at the age of fifty, it seems possible that he poured into
these later instrumental movements much that he felt was beyond the
vocal forms of the great _Mass in D_ which was occupying his thoughts
at this time. The rhapsodic first movement with its light and happy
figures, repeatedly broken in upon by the deeply expressive _Adagio_
phrases; the remarkable uncouth Scherzo with the subject in the bass
and the angelic variations, one in fugue form, and the other a _tour
de force_ with its thrilling pedals, the beatific return of the theme
at the end, given this sonata a high place amongst the happiest
conceptions of the master.


                   31st SONATA, Opus 110, in A flat.

      _Moderato cantabile--Molto allegro--Arioso dolente--Fuga._

The autograph is dated December 25th, 1821, and the work appeared for
the first time in August, 1822. Here we find Beethoven in his most
exalted mood, and it is significant that whilst the main outlines of
the Sonata-form are at the foundation of the piece, he has gone still
a step farther in the direction of welding the whole sonata into one
piece. The first, the movement of development, is on the usual lines
but is handled with great freedom. The second movement is one of those
fast pieces, somewhat fantastic, with which Schumann has made us
familiar at a later period. A remarkable _recitative_ bridge portion
follows which leads into one of the most beautiful airs ever penned by
Beethoven, the _Arioso Dolente_. This runs into the Fugue, which is
here used not so much as a movement in itself, but a concentration of
the chief expression of the whole piece. Vincent d'Indy compares the
expression here with that of the 15th String Quartet, Opus 132, written
four years later, which contains the Song of gratitude to God for his
goodness. In this Sonata, we have as it were a terrible combat against
misfortune, then a return to life and hope, not in a calm pious prayer,
but in an exultant hymn of joy triumphant.

The subject of the final Fugue is a simplification of the initial idea
of the first movement. This opening movement is penetrated with a great
religious calm. The _Scherzo_ is somewhat puzzling, but appears to be
a somewhat sorrowful frolic, a rather bitter amusement. In the Fugue,
suffering disappears; even fantastic cleverness comes to the fore with
the subject in contrary movement. Little by little life and joy return,
and with the re-establishment of the tonic key, the piece triumphs in
an enthusiasm of good feeling. The Italian indications to this sonata
are fuller and more unusual, and show that Beethoven was aiming at
the deepest possible expression. The use of the _Una Corda_, and the
insertion of the _Arioso Dolente_ into the Fugue, show what a struggle
Beethoven underwent in the conquest of his feelings.


                  32nd SONATA, Opus 111, in C minor.

                _Maestoso--Allegro con brio--Arietta._

Although the designation _Sonata_ persists with Beethoven right along
throughout all his periods, yet in this last sonata we have left the
first ones completely out of sight. The name must be taken merely in
its general sense of a piece of high aims; or even in its literal
sense, the Italian word meaning simply _to play_. This Sonata, which
was dedicated to the Archduke Rudolph, is practically a Prelude and
Fugue, with an Air and Variations. The introduction contains two
themes, a leonine, stormy one and a singing phrase. The Fugue opens
like a veritable thunder-storm. There are short phrases in the major
which answer to the second subject, a brief snatch of two celestial
bars, and the agitated atmosphere again unfolds itself. This second
subject, which is a mere phrase, is repeated in the last portion of the
Fugue in the tonic major, which brings the Fugue into line with the
Sonata form proper. The beauty of the Coda has not been surpassed by
Brahms in his sublimest moments.

After the storm, a calm. Beethoven concludes his world contribution
of Sonatas with an air of celestial happiness, varied in the most
lovely manner possible. "A voice from above," someone has called it.
The variations lap round it tenderly like the waves caressing the sands
on a beautiful calm day. The first variation gently stirs the rhythm of
the theme. The second doubles the movement, and the third redoubles,
and yet the peaceful calm is not disturbed. Into the _Coda_ steals one
of those beautiful pensive movements in the minor key. This emerges
into the return of the theme, scintillating with heavenly radiance.
Thus Beethoven closes his Sonatas in a heavenly peace.


                              FOOTNOTES:

[89] Beethoven could not endure the foreign word _pianoforte_.




                 THE SONATAS FOR VIOLIN AND PIANOFORTE




                 THE SONATAS FOR VIOLIN AND PIANOFORTE


                   1st SONATA, Opus 12, No. 1, in D.

            _Allegro con brio--Tema con Variazioni--Rondo._

This is the first of a set of three Sonatas published in 1799, and
dedicated to F. A. Salieri. It is noteworthy that it was a favourite
custom with Beethoven to publish his works in sets of threes; thus,
Opus 1, Three Trios for Pianoforte, Violin and Cello; Opus 2, Three
Sonatas for Pianoforte; Opus 9, Three Trios for Strings; Opus 10, Three
Sonatas for Pianoforte; Opus 30, Three Sonatas for Pianoforte and
Violin; Opus 31, Three Sonatas for Pianoforte; Opus 59, Three Quartets
for Strings (dedicated to Prince Rasumovsky); and the Opus 12.

No. 1 of this Opus is a vivacious work of no great depth, and the
phraseology is in the Mozartian manner. The theme is a 16-bar phrase,
given out by the piano and repeated on the violin in two sections. The
variations are four in number, the third being in the minor, and there
is a short Coda. The Rondo is on modern lines approximating to Sonata
form.


                   2nd SONATA, Opus 12, No. 2, in A.

  _Allegro vivace--Andante più tosto Allegretto--Allegro piacevole._

Although this Sonata offers no outstanding point of interest, it is to
be regretted that it is not more frequently heard. There are one or two
places where the sunny sky is slightly overcast, but on the whole, it
is a work brimful of youthful happiness. The _Andante_, somewhat frail,
is like the _Finale_, full of fine melody, and gay with optimistic
feelings of youth.


                3rd SONATA, Opus 12, No. 3, in E flat.

      _Allegro con spirito--Adagio con molto espressione--Rondo._

The tuneful, breezy _Allegro_ contains some brilliant work for the
piano. The _Adagio_ seems hardly deep enough to carry its broad time
with dignity. The delicate Finale--short, simple, and tuneful--is well
rounded off.


              4th SONATA, Opus 23, in A minor and major.

              _Presto--Andante--Scherzo--Allegro molto._

This Sonata, published in 1801, and dedicated to the Count Moritz von
Fries, is one of the more serene works of the "first-period" style.
Its charms are not readily apparent, but it is full of interest to
the serious musician. The subjects of the opening _Presto_ are not
very distinguished. The composer seems to have felt this, and has
consequently introduced an unusual amount of new matter into the
development section. The gentle, placid _Andante_, with its eloquent
rests, has some unusual passages, notably the bridge (bar 33) where
a definite theme is treated fugally in three parts. The Finale,
undefined, strange and unusual, possesses that weird note which so
frequently sounds in Schumann's pieces. The key of A minor seems
to possess the right key-colour for this bustling, indefinite, and
somewhat uneasy sort of mood. In this direction, one calls to mind
the _Kreutzer Sonata_, with which this movement has much in common.
There are more subtle reminiscences; the new theme in semibreves,
which plays such a great part in the middle of the Rondo, recalls the
fugal _Finale_ of Mozart's _Jupiter Symphony_. The powerful _Coda_
recalls all the foregoing moods. The movement is very valuable from the
psychological point of view, for Beethoven was at the age of 31 years.


                      5th SONATA, Opus 24, in F.

          _Allegro--Adagio molto espressivo--Scherzo--Rondo._

This graceful and happy Sonata, also published in 1801 and dedicated,
like its predecessor, to the Count Moritz von Fries, is the most
popular in the "early-period" style. The first movement is full of
serene happiness. The Adagio has a lovely theme, dreamy and languorous
as a summer's day. The _Scherzo_ is characteristic, full of fun and
oddity; the Rondo, full of good spirits, the chief theme being varied
at each return.


                   6th SONATA, Opus 30, No. 1, in A.

    _Allegro--Adagio molto espressivo--Allegretto con variazioni._

This is the first of a set of three Sonatas dedicated to the Kaiser
Alexander I. With this Opus the true individuality of Beethoven is
manifested. Although the opening of this work is not particularly
striking, yet the movement has a clarity of style and delicacy of
workmanship together with distinct melodic charm. The theme of the
_Adagio_ is of great beauty, caressing in its tenderness. For the
_Finale_, Beethoven turns to his beloved Variations form. This was not
the original Finale which was "lifted" in a moment of haste to form
the conclusion of the Kreutzer Sonata. Still, one cannot deny that the
present variations suit this charming poetical sonata much better than
the _Finale_ of the _Kreutzer_ would have done.


                7th SONATA, Opus 30, No. 2, in C minor.

        _Allegro con brio--Adagio cantabile--Scherzo--Allegro._

This favourite work is one of the great masterpieces of music.
The first and last movements sound the clear note of Beethoven's
personality--a king here comes to his own. The first movement opens
with a veritable quatrain of musical poetry. The gay martial swing
of the second subject is remarkable. Stormy episodes follow, and the
development section commences with a new idea. Conflict succeeds
conflict before the serenity of the exposition returns. The beautiful
_Adagio_ flows along with a solemn majesty, although there are one or
two short dramatic points. The _Scherzo_, bright and tuneful, somewhat
naive, does not give us the fulness of the real Beethoven which we get
in the sombre, energetic and passionate _Finale_.


                   8th SONATA, Opus 30, No. 3, in G.

          _Allegro assai--Tempo di Minuetto--Allegro vivace._

After the stormy power and the serene beauties of the Sonata in C
minor (a key which always called forth Beethoven's best) this Sonata
appears somewhat colourless. The long-drawn _Tempo_ _di Minuetto_ is a
little tedious, whilst the first and last movements, though vigorous
and well varied in mood, by no means give us the deep Beethoven of the
C minor Sonata. The scoring of many of the passages is unusually thin,
and reminiscent of Haydn not at his best.


                      9th SONATA, Opus 47, in A.

                    Dedicated to Rudolph Kreutzer.

           _Adagio--Presto--Andante con variazioni--Presto._

Though absurdly over-estimated, perhaps on account of Tolstoy's stupid
novel, this still remains one of the great masterpieces in music.
Commissioned by a Mulatto violinist named Bridgetower, and written, as
the original title-page says, "in a specially brilliant style," it was
first given at 8 o'clock on a May morning in 1803 in the Augarten at
Vienna, with Beethoven at the piano and Bridgetower with the violin.
The Sonata opens with a majestic introduction, ending on a dominant
pause. Tradition has it that Bridgetower improvised a cadenza here and
that Beethoven approved. Amongst the whirl and excitement of the bold
and vigorous opening _Presto_, the hymn-like second subject stands
out with a marvellous way. Nothing is lost of the tenderness of the
_Andante_ in the brilliant variations which follow it, and this is all
the more wonderful because this piece is the most virtuoso-like of all
Beethoven's chamber-music. Tenderness with Beethoven is no maudlin
sentiment, but the gentle sympathy of a strong man. The Tarantelle-like
_Finale_ originally belonged to the Sonata of Opus 30, No. 1, A major,
but, as Beethoven had been dilatory in his commission, the time having
arrived and no _Finale_, he took the _Finale_ from the earlier Sonata
and wrote a new one for it later on.


                      10th SONATA, Opus 96, in G.

_Allegro moderato--Adagio espressivo--Scherzo allegro--Poco Allegretto._

This was written in 1810 and dedicated to Beethoven's firm friend and
patron, the Archduke Rudolph. Although not really characteristic of the
master's latest style, which does not commence until Opus 106, yet it
is the most intimate of all the violin sonatas. It stands amongst the
very great works and is indeed in some ways superior to the C minor.
The _Adagio_, calm and sublime, is one of the most beautiful things in
music. The scoring is like that of a string quartet. The ending dies
away and creeps almost imperceptibly into the _Scherzo_ through an
unexpected C sharp. Full of life and bubbling over with fun, it has a
jolly _trio_ and a _coda_ of its own. The _Finale_ touches every mood
from gay to sad, from lively to severe. The lovely _Adagio_ makes a
re-appearance in it, but the gay mood wins, for with a freakish little
_Presto_ the Sonata is brought to a triumphant close.




                          THE STRING QUARTETS




                          THE STRING QUARTETS


                  1st QUARTET, Opus 18, No. 1, in F.

                    Dedicated to Prince Lobkovitz.

_Allegro con brio--Adagio affettuoso ed appassionato--Scherzo--Allegro._

Composed in 1800 at the age of 30, this first set of quartets belongs
to the same period as the great C minor Symphony, No. 5. The music of
No. 1 is Mozartian in type, very charming, and the scoring is light and
graceful. The _Adagio_ is very beautiful, and one can feel in it the
future Beethoven. Indeed we almost arrive at maturity in the episode in
D flat in the _Finale_, where Beethoven uses the melody which he again
took up in his ballet "The Men of Prometheus" and in his Third Symphony.


               2nd QUARTET, Opus 18, No. 2, in G. major.

   _Allegro--Adagio cantabile--Scherzo--Allegro molto quasi Presto._

This quartet is even more like Mozart and Haydn than No. 1, except for
the fact that Beethoven keeps his music in rather higher registers. The
_Adagio_ is not so Beethovenish as the slow movement of No. 1, but it
contains an episode marked Allegro. The _Finale_ is full of spirit, but
it is not the Beethoven in the "unbuttoned" mood of the later works.
There is some effective work for the G string on the 1st Violin, for
Paganini had already cast his glamour over Europe.


                  3rd QUARTET, Opus 18, No. 3, in D.

             _Allegro--Andante con moto--Allegro--Presto._

This beautiful quartet, composed a year later than the first two,
already points to the maturity of the second period, especially in the
first movement. The _Andante_ opens with a lovely melody for the 2nd
Violin on the G string; restraint and broadness in playing should be
the player's aim here. Parry refers to the fine balance of form in this
Quartet in his article in Groves' Dictionary. The _Scherzo_ is here
marked _Maggiore--Minore--Maggiore_. The _Presto_ is full of Beethoven
spirit and handling, in one passage in particular, having spaciousness,
which is such a striking feature in the final quartets.


               4th QUARTET, Opus 18, No. 4, in C minor.

           _Allegro ma non tanto--Scherzo--Menuetto--Rondo._

Written in Beethoven's favourite key, C minor, this quartet is
remarkable for its melodiousness. It has no slow movement and contains
both a Scherzo and a Minuet, the former marked Andante Scherzoso quasi
Allegretto and opening in a Fugato style reminiscent of the Andante of
the First Symphony. Both this and the Minuet contain the characteristic
Sforzandi, especially that on the third beat of triple time. The
Prestissimo Coda brings the Finale to a powerful conclusion.


                  5th QUARTET, Opus 18, No. 5, in A.

            _Allegro--Minuet--Air and Variations--Allegro._

This quartet is chiefly remarkable for its lovely _Andante_ and set of
variations on the beautiful theme which has all the natural feeling
of a genuine folk-song. The first variation is _Fugato_; the second
has sparkling triplets for the 1st violin; the third woodland murmurs,
whilst the cellos and violas occupy themselves with the melody.

The fourth is organ-like in treatment, whilst the final one starts on
a boisterous scamper home, which ends, however, in a melancholy, dreamy
meditation. The _Finale_ is Mozartian.


                6th QUARTET, Opus 18, No. 6, in B flat.

         _Allegro con brio--Adagio ma non troppo--Scherzo--La
                Malinconia--Allegretto quasi Allegro._

This favourite quartet, composed in 1800, has five movements; whereas
the fourth quartet has no slow movement.

The arrangement of the five movements seems to suggest some sort of
carefully-arranged "programme;" but woe always overtook the man who
dared to attach a definite story to any of the music in these pieces in
Beethoven's lifetime. The opening movement, full of vitality, and asks
for _spiccato_ bowing. It is very light in texture. The first _Adagio_
is full of graceful tunefulness, somewhat elaborate in texture, and
containing many characteristic touches of expression; so too, does the
_Scherzo_. The second slow movement _Adagio_, entitled by Beethoven _La
Malinconia_ (grief), is one of Beethoven's most moving pieces of music.
Knowing here that he was entering into new territory, he especially
marks such movements to be played with the greatest feeling _più gran
delicatezza_. This movement runs directly into the final _Allegretto_,
which indeed returns to it twice, as though unable to throw off
completely the bitter taste of those sad moments.


                  7th QUARTET, Opus 59, No. 1, in F.

            No. 1 of the set dedicated to Count Rasumovsky.

    _Allegro--Allegretto Vivace e sempre Scherzando--Adagio molto e
                  mesto--Thème russe con Variazioni._

This fine but difficult quartet, sometimes called the Cello Quartet
on account of the prominence given to this instrument, was written
in 1806. The Count himself is supposed to have played the cello, and
the set of variations on the Russian song used for the _Finale_ was a
second compliment to Beethoven's noble Russian patron. Beethoven took
his theme from the Prabst collection, 1815, which is not now published,
having been superseded by Rimsky-Korsakoff's fine collection. The theme
is found there (No. 13) marked _Andante_ and the Russian words may be
translated--

      Ah, is this my fate?
      And what a fate!

The technique and the subject matter is very much more advanced.
The first movement contains a remarkable unison passage for the
full strings, some remarkable high work for the 1st violin and some
wonderful colour effects. The _Allegretto_ is a busy, gossipy movement
in B flat. The _Adagio molto_ is a typical Beethoven _Adagio_. It is
the real thing. It runs into the Finale through a long and difficult
cadenza for the 1st Violin over a dominant pedal. The ending of the
quartet contains some very full effects and is almost orchestral in
style.


               8th QUARTET, Opus 59, No. 2, in E minor.

                _Allegro--Adagio--Allegretto--Finale._

The second quartet of the Rasumovsky set is even more elaborate
than the first. The opening movement, though containing some dark,
passionate moods akin to the _Appassionata Sonata_, is nevertheless
happy and delicate in tone. Its technical requirements are great.
The quartet opens with two strong chords, then a silent bar, which
the composer fills in curiously enough in the recapitulation. The
lovely long-drawn Adagio in E major is marked by Beethoven _con molto
di sentimento_ (with great feeling). Here again he is in his new
territory. It is as though he said to the players, "Wake up! this is
an entirely new kind of music." The playful _Allegretto_ introduces
another Slav folk-song, which can be found in Rimsky-Korsakoff's
collection (No. 45). It is sacred and majestic in tone, a song of glory
to the Creator. It forms the major _trio_ portion, which is carefully
welded on to the return of the opening minor movement. The _Finale_
represents Beethoven's very happiest mood. It starts clean out of the
key in C major. Seldom is Beethoven so happy as we find him here in the
_Finale_, which although written in the sharp signature throughout, is
really in the key of C major; the episodes only and the coda only just
managing to restore the balance of E minor.


               9th QUARTET, Opus 59, No. 3, in C major.

  _Introduzione--Allegro vivace--Andante con moto--Menuetto--Allegro
                            molto (Fuge)._

This, the third of the Rasumovsky set, was composed in 1806. Starting
clean out of the key, a few bars of _Andante_ introduction gradually
lean towards C major. The first movement is remarkably clear and
lucid in style and finely coloured in harmony. Beethoven is in one of
his happiest moods. The exquisite _Andante_ in A minor opens with a
_pizzicato_ bass and ends in the same manner. It is a highly finished
movement. The Minuet is of the stately dance order and appears in the
tonic key C major. The coda to it ends on the dominant seventh, thus
bringing in the remarkable spiccato Fugue which Brahms played from
memory as an encore at a concert in Vienna in 1867. The _Una Corda_ set
of entries preserving the homogeneity of tone and adding greatly to the
effect of the intensity of the _crescendi_ is particularly fine.


                   10th QUARTET, Opus 74, in E flat.

  _Poco adagio--Allegro--Adagio ma non troppo--Presto--Allegretto con
                             variazione._

This remarkable quartet, composed in 1809 and dedicated to the Prince
Lobkovitz, is widely known under the title of the Harp Quartet on
account of the remarkable pizzicato arpeggios in the opening Allegro.
A short introduction is marked _sotto voce_. The _Allegro_ contains
a brilliant cadenza for the Violin--Beethoven's only excursion into
the virtuoso field in chamber music. The very beautiful _Adagio_ is
Beethoven at his very best, whilst the _Presto Scherzo_ is curious
in form, being arranged with varying _tempi_, thus, on the following
plan:--_Presto_ C minor, _Più Presto-Trio_ C major, C minor, _Presto_
repeated, and again the C major, finishing with the C minor. This leads
without break into a set of six variations: the second, notable for
its lovely viola melody; and the sixth, organ-like in character over a
cello pedal-point.


                  11th QUARTET, Opus 95, in F minor.

 _Allegro con brio--Allegretto ma non troppo--Allegro assai vivace ma
                     serioso--Allegretto agitato._

This quartet is dedicated to Count Zmeskal, Beethoven's willing
secretary and man of affairs. Here in this work which stands on the
border line between Beethoven's second and third styles, we have the
gruff and brooding Beethoven. The somewhat short opening movement
is full of intense feeling. The _Allegretto_ is calm and religious,
ethereal in tone and contains a fine fugato passage. The third
movement, which takes the place of a _Scherzo_, is dark in feeling
and pervaded with gloom. A short _Larghetto_ introduction leads into
the _Finale_ agitated and restless in character, but ending with a
brilliant gleam of sunshine.


                  12th QUARTET, Opus 127, in E flat.

               Dedicated to Count Nicolas von Galitzen.

        _Maestoso--Allegro--Adagio--Scherzando vivace--Finale._

Although probably published before his death, this quartet is generally
classed with the posthumous ones which represent fully Beethoven's
third style. Although all these quartets contain many orchestral
effects, yet he never exceeds the limits of the true string quartet
style. To say that string quartet writing is only an imperfectly
filled-in sketch of orchestral idium is not correct; otherwise, when
Beethoven had four instruments at his disposal, would he have written
some of those spacious passages for three, or even two instruments only?

The opening movement has a double subject--the _Maestoso_ introduction
accompanying the _Allegro_ subject on every appearance. The _Adagio_ is
dreamy in mood and has a touching _Andante_ episode, also a striking
excursion to E major before the final return. The _Scherzando vivace_,
which must not be taken too quickly, is also a striking example of
Beethoven's characteristic contrapuntal writing and contains a passage
in Beethoven's famous _Ritmo di tre battute_ (Rhythm of three bars);
another instance of this occurs in the _Ninth Symphony_. The tempo
is constantly changing throughout and the highly dramatic music,
free in style, settles down more into a lyric and rhythmic style for
the _Finale_, the long _coda_ of which is extremely characteristic,
starting right away from the key.


                  13th QUARTET, Opus 130, in B flat.

               Dedicated to Count Nicolas von Galitzen.

 _Adagio ma non troppo--Allegro--Presto--Andante con moto--Danza alla
                      tedesca--Cavatina--Finale._

This quartet, written in 1825, is one of Beethoven's longest, and
contains six movements. The opening piece carries its _Adagio_
introduction through all the appearances of the _Allegro_ subject.
The second subject is of wonderful beauty. The development section
very short. The unusual _Presto_ in B flat minor very succinct; is the
nearest approach to Brahms. The _Andante_ is really a _Scherzo_ treated
like an _Andante_ in form. The third movement is cast in the rhythm
of a German country dance; the theme is varied on its re-appearance.
The famous _Cavatina_ has a remarkable _beklemmt_ (fear) episode and
a wonderful _Bebung_ chord at the close. The lovely second subject
of The _Finale_ has been used by Borodin as a theme in the _Finale_
of his Second Quartet. There is a very proper little Fugue in the
development portion. The original _Finale_ was published separately as
Opus 133; it is a terrificly long-drawn Fugue and is regarded as almost
incomprehensible by even the most ardent admirers of Beethoven's third
style.


               14th QUARTET, Opus 131, in C sharp minor.

                          Published in 1827.

  _Adagio--Allegro molto vivace--Allegro moderato--Andante--Presto._

Although marked off in separate movements, this quartet is practically
one long continuous piece. It opens with a mystic Fugue, organ-like in
character and contains several fine enharmonic changes of key. At the
_Allegro molto vivace_ the tonality is lifted a semitone. This movement
is light in character and simple in texture, almost Mozartian. An air
with variations is approached by a _recitative_ and introduction. This
is followed by a _Presto_, where Beethoven appears in one of his joking
moods. The _tempo_ here alters continually, then comes a short _Adagio_
section, a lamentation broken off by one of Beethoven's gruff shrugs,
and the last movement opens with a clearly marked theme in happy mood.
Strongly contrasted portions occur from time to time, but the work ends
triumphantly.


                  15th QUARTET, Opus 132, in A minor.

        _Assai sostenuto--Allegro--Allegro ma non tanto--Molto
         adagio--Andante--Alla marcia--Allegro appassionata._

The opening movement is on the same lines as that of the preceding
quartet. Moods change constantly and the development is of the freest
kind; there are two parts to the second subject, one a vivacious little
figure, two a short singing phrase. The _Allegro_ in A major is in
ternary form and takes the place of the _Scherzo_. Then follows that
remarkable movement in the Lydian mode headed "A convalescent's sacred
song of thanksgiving to the divinity." This interesting modal piece was
written after the composer's illness. The variations of it alternate
with the _Andante_ in D major, thus producing striking contrasts of key
colour. The final _Allegro_ is in free Sonata form.


                  16th QUARTET, Opus 135, in F major.

    _Allegretto--Vivace--Lento assai--Grave ma non troppo tratto._

This quartet is on a much smaller scale. The opening movement, whilst
characteristic of the third period, is easily comprehended. The subject
of the slow movement is one of Beethoven's most beautiful melodies, and
the _Finale_ commences with the famous musical motto--

      "_Must it be?
      It must be_"

founded on a little altercation with his cook.

The movement is characterised by some very perverse part-writing.

These final quartets present many problems, even to the most profound
students of Beethoven's works.




                             BIBLIOGRAPHY




                             BIBLIOGRAPHY


If one wishes to know Beethoven better, reference should be made to the
principal biographies and other works on Beethoven, of which we give a
brief list:--


                    I.--FOR BEETHOVEN'S LETTERS.

LUDWIG NOHL.--_Briefe Beethovens_, 1865, Stuttgart.

LUDWIG NOHL.--_Neue Briefe Beethovens_, 1867, Stuttgart.

LUDWIG RITTER VON KOECHEL.--_83 Original Briefe L.V.B. an den
Erzherzog Rudolph_, 1865, Vienna.

ALFRED SCHOENE.--_Briefe von Beethoven an Marie Graefin Erdödy geb.
Graefin Niszky und Mag. Brauchte_, 1866, Leipzig.

THEODOR VON FRIMMEL.--_Neue Beethoveniana_, 1886.

    _Katalog der mit der Beethoven--Feier zu Bonn, an II.--15 Mai, 1890,
    verbundenen Ausstellung von Handschriften, Briefen, Bildnissen,
    Reliquien Ludwig van Beethovens._ Bonn, 1890.

LA MARA.--_Musikerbriefe aus fünf Jahrhunderten._ Leipzig, 1892.

DR. A. CHRISTIAN KALISCHER.--_Neue Beethoven, Briefe_. Berlin and
Leipzig, 1902.

DR. A. CHRISTIAN KALISCHER.--_Beethovens Sämmtliche Briefe._
Kritische Ausgabe mit Erläuterungen, 5 vol. Leipzig and Berlin,
1906-1908.

DR. FRITZ PRELINGER.--_Beethovens Sämmtliche Briefe und
Aufzeichnungen_, 3 vols. Vienna and Leipzig, 1907.

By far the most useful books for the English reader, and, indeed, for
any reader, are the two splendid volumes of _Beethoven's Letters_. A
critical edition with explanatory notes translated from Kalischer by J.
S. Shedlock. (London: J. M. Dent & Co., 1909).

The translation of the letters contained in this present volume have
been taken from that work by kind permission of the author and the
publishers.

A good selection from these letters, issued in one volume at a
moderate price, would be a great boon to English readers.


                      II.--FOR BEETHOVEN'S LIFE.

GOTTFRIED FISCHER.--_Manuscrit_ (especially interesting for the
  childhood of Beethoven). Fischer, who died in 1864, was the owner
  of the house where the Beethoven family lived for two generations.
  He and his sister Cecilia knew Beethoven as a boy intimately, and
  have recorded their remembrances of him, which are very valuable, on
  condition that they are used with some criticism. The manuscript is
  in the Beethovenhaus at Bonn. Deiters (see below) has published some
  extracts from them.

F. G. WEGELER and FERDINAND REIS.--_Biographie Notizen über Ludwig
  van Beethoven_ (especially valuable for the first part of his life),
  Coblentz. 1838. Re-issued by Dr. Kalischer in 1905.

LUDWIG NOHL.--_Eine stille Liebe zu Beethoven._ Berlin, 1857. (A
  publication of the Journal of Mlle. Fanny Giannatasio del Rio, who
  knew and loved Beethoven about 1816).

ANTON SCHINDLER.--_Beethovens Biographie._ 1840. (For the second part
  of his life).

ANTON SCHINDLER.--_Beethoven in Paris, Münster_, 1842.

GERHARD VON BREUNING.--_Aus dem Schwarzspanierhause_, 1874. (The
  Schwarzspanierhaus was the house in Vienna in which Beethoven died. It
  was pulled down during the winter of 1903).

MOSCHELES.--_The Life of Beethoven_, London, 2 vols. 1841.

ALEXANDER WHEELOCK THAYER, and continued by HERMANN DEITERS, and
  later by HUGO REIMANN.--_Ludwig von Beethovens Leben_ (Translated
  into English), 5 vols., 1908. This biography was commenced in 1866,
  but was interrupted by the death of the author in 1897 at Trieste
  where he was the American Consul. The work stood still till 1816,
  when Deiters undertook to finish it; but he died in 1907 before he
  had published the second volume. Riemann finished the work from the
  materials left by Deiters. It is by far the most important work on
  Beethoven.

LUDWIG NOHL.--_Beethovens Leben_, 4 vols., 1864-1877.

LUDWIG NOHL.--_Beethoven nach den Schilderungen seiner Zeitgenossen_,
  Stuttgart.

A. B. MARZ.--_L. van Beethovens Leben und Schaffen_, 2 vols. 5th
  Edition revised by G. Behncke. Berlin, 1902.

VICTOR WILDER.--_Beethoven, sa vie et son œuvre_, 1883.


                     III.--FOR BEETHOVEN'S WORKS.

BEETHOVEN.--_Complete works_, critical edition, Breitkopf and
  Haertel, Leipzig, 38 vols.

G. NOTTEBOHM.--_Thematisches Verzeichniss der im Druck erschienen
  Werke von Ludwig van Beethoven_, Leipzig, 1868.

A. W. THAYER.--_Chronologisches Verzeichniss der Werke von
  Beethoven._ 1865.

G. NOTTEBOHM.--_Ein Skizzenbuch von Beethoven._ 1865.

G. NOTTEBOHM.--_Ein Skizzenbuch von Beethoven aus dem Jahre, 1803._
 1880.

G. NOTTEBOHM.--_Beethovens Studien._ 1873.

G. NOTTEBOHM.--_Beethoveniana. Zweite Beethoveniana._ 1872-87.

GEORGE GROVE.--_Beethoven and his Nine Symphonies._ London, Novello,
 1896.

J. G. PRODHOMME.--_Les Symphonies de Beethoven_, 1906.

ALFREDO COLOMBANI.--_Le Nove Sinfonie di Beethoven._ Turin, 1897.

ERNST VON ELTERLEIN.--_Beethovens Claviersonaten._ Fifth edition,
  1895.

WILLIBALD NAGEL.--_Beethoven und seine Klavier-sonaten._ Two volumes,
  1903-1905.

J. S. SHEDLOCK.--_The Pianoforte Sonata._ London, Methuen, 1900.

CHARLES CZERNY.--_Pianoforte School_ (part 4, chapters 2 and 3).

THEODOR HELM.--_Beethoven's Streichquartette._ 1885.

H. DE CURZON.--_Les lieder et airs detaches de Beethoven_, 1906.

OTTO JAHN.--_Leonore. Klavierauszug mit Text, nach der zweiten
  Bearbeitung_, 1852.

DR. ERICH PRIEGER.--_Fidelio. Klavierauszug mit Text, nach der ersten
  Bearbeitung_, 1906.

WILHELM WEBER.--_Beethoven's Missa Solemnis_, 1897.

MARIAM TENGER.--_Beethoven's Unsterbliche Geliebte_, 1890. The
  historical value of this book has been frequently contested. Mariam
  Tenger was the confidential friend of Theresa in her last years. It is
  very likely that Theresa, then aged, may involuntarily have idealised
  her remembrances; but the foundation of the story appears reliable.

A. EHRHARD.--_Franz Grillparzer_, 1900.

THEODOR VON FRIMMEL.--_Ludwig van Beethoven_ (in the collection of
  _Berühmte, Musiker_), Berlin, 1901.

JEAN CHANTAVOINE.--_Beethoven_, Paris, 1907.

DR. ALFRED CHRISTIAN KALISCHER.--_Beethoven und seiner Zeitgenossen
  Beitrage zur Geschichte des Kunstlers und Menschen._ 4 vols., 1910.
  A collection of documents of the greatest interest on the whole
  circle of Beethoven's friends. This wealth of information renews in a
  great part the psychology of Beethoven.

PROF. DR. RICHARD STERNFELD.--_Zur Einfuhrung in Ludwig von
  Beethoven's Missa Solemnis._

IGNAZ VON SEYFRIED.--_Ludwig von Beethoven im Generalbass,
  Kontrapunkt, und in der Kompositions Lehre_, 1832.

W. DE LENZ.--_Beethoven et ses trois styles._ (Analysis of his
  pianoforte sonatas), (out of print), 1854.

OULIBICHEFF.--_Beethoven, ses critiques et ses glossateurs_, 1857.

WASIELEWSKI.--_Beethoven_, 2 volumes, Berlin, 1886.

R. SCHUMANN.--_Music and Musicians._ Translated by Fanny Raymond
  Ritter, London, Reeves.

RICHARD WAGNER.--_Beethoven._ Leipzig, 1870.

VINCENT D'INDY.--_Beethoven._ Paris, 1911.




                        BEETHOVEN'S PORTRAITS.

1789.--_Silhouette of Beethoven at eighteen years._ (Beethoven's house
  at Bonn; reproduced in Frimmel's Biography, page 16).

1791-2.--_Miniature of Beethoven_ by Gerhard von Kügelgen. (In the
  possession of George Henschel, London; reproduced in "Musical Times"
  of December, 1892, page 8).

1801.--_Drawing by G. Stainhauser_, engraved by Johann Neidl.
  (Reproduced in "Les Musiciens," celebres by Felix Clement, 1878, page
  267; Frimmel, page 28).

1802.--_Engraving by Scheffner_, after Stainhauser. (Beethoven's house
  at Bonn; reproduced in "Die Musik," of March 15th, 1902, page 1145).

1802.--_Miniature of Beethoven_, by Christian Hornemann. (In the
  possession of Madame de Breuning at Vienna; reproduced in Frimmel,
  page 31).

1805.--_Portrait of Beethoven_ by W. J. Mahler. (In the possession of
  Robert Heimler, Vienna; reproduced in "Musical Times," December, 1892,
  page 7; "Frimmel," page 34).

1808.--_Drawing by L. F. Schnorr de Carolsfeld_, lithographed by J.
  Bauer. (Beethoven's house at Bonn).

1812.--_Cast of Beethoven_, modelled by Franz Klein.

1812.--_Bust of Beethoven_, by Franz Klein, from the cast. (Belonging
  to E. Streicher, piano manufacturer, in Vienna; reproduced in Frimmel,
  page 46; "Musical Times," December, 1892, page 19).

1814.--_Drawing by L. Letronne_, engraved by Blasius Hoefel. (The
  finest portrait of Beethoven; Beethoven's house at Bonn contains the
  original, which he offered to Wegeler; reproduced in Frimmel, page 51;
  "Musical Times," December, 1892, page 21).

1815.--_Drawing by L. Letronne_, engraved by Riedel. (Reproduced in
  "Die Musik," page 1147).

1815.--_Second portrait of Beethoven_, by Mahler. (In the possession
  of Ignace von Gleichenstein of Fribourg-en-Brisgau. Reproduction in
  Beethoven's house at Bonn).

1815.--_Portrait of Beethoven_, by Christian Heckel. (In the
  possession of J. F. Heckel, of Mannheim; reproduction in Beethoven's
  house at Bonn).

1818.--_Engraving_ from the drawing of Beethoven by Aug. von Kloeber.
  (Reproduced in "Musical Times," December, 1892, page 25). The original
  drawing by Kloeber is in the collection of Dr. Erich Prieger at Bonn.

1819.--_Portrait of Beethoven_ by K. Joseph Stieler. (The property of
 Alex. Meyer Cohn, Berlin; reproduced in Frimmel, page 71).

1821.--_Bust of Beethoven_ by Anton Dietrich. (In the possession of
  Leopold Schrotter, of Kristelli; reproduction in Beethoven's house at
  Bonn).

1824-6.--_Caricatures of Beethoven walking_, by J. P. Lyser. (Original
  in the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde, Vienna; reproduced in Frimmel,
  page 67; "Musical Times," December, 1892, page 15).

1823.--_Caricatures of Beethoven walking_, by Jos. van Boehm.
  (Reproduced in Frimmel, page 70).

1823.--_Portrait of Beethoven_ by Waldmueller. (Belonging to Messrs.
  Breitkopf and Haertel, Leipzig; reproduced in Frimmel, page 72).

1825-6.--_Drawing of Beethoven_ by Stepan Decker. (In the possession
  of George Decker, Vienna; reproductions in Beethoven's house at Bonn).

1826.--_Drawing of Beethoven_ by A. Dietrich, lithographed by Jos.
  Kriehuber. (Reproduced in Frimmel, page 73).

1826.--_Bust of Beethoven a la antique_, by Schaller. (The property of
  the Philharmonic Society of London; copy in Beethoven's house at Bonn;
  reproduced in Frimmel, page 74, and in "Musical Times," December,
  1892).

1827.--_Sketch of Beethoven on his death-bed_, by Jos. Danhauser.
  (In the possession A. Artaria, Vienna; reproduced in the "Allgemeine
  Musik-Zeitung" of April 19th, 1901).

1827.--_Three sketches of Beethoven on his death-bed_, by Teltscher.
  (In the possession of Dr. Aug. Heymann; published by Frimmel;
  reproduced in the "Courier Musical" of November 15th, 1909).

1827.--_Mask of Beethoven dead_, modelled by Danhauser. (Beethoven's
  house at Bonn).

Numerous portraits of Beethoven have been made since his death. The
most remarkable work which has been dedicated to his memory is the
monument of Max Klinger (Vienna, 1902).




  CLASSIFICATION OF BEETHOVEN'S PIANOFORTE SONATAS IN ORDER OF STUDY




  CLASSIFICATION OF BEETHOVEN'S PIANOFORTE SONATAS. IN ORDER OF STUDY


   1. Op. 49, No. 2, in G major.

   2. Op. 49, No. 1, in G minor.

   3. Op. 14, No. 2, in G major.

   4. Op. 14, No. 1, in E major.

   5. Op. 79, in G major.

   6. Op. 2, No. 1, in F minor.

   7. Op. 10, No. 1, in C minor.

   8. Op. 10, No. 2, in F major.

   9. Op. 10, No. 3, in D major.

  10. Op. 13, in C minor (_Pathétique_).

  11. Op. 22, in B flat major.

  12. Op. 28, in D major (_Pastorale_).

  13. Op. 2, No. 2, in A major.

  14. Op. 2, No. 3, in C major.

  15. Op. 7, in E flat major.

  16. Op. 26, in A flat major.

  17. Op. 31, No. 1, in G major.

  18. Op. 31, No. 3, in E flat major.

  19. Op. 90, in E minor.

  20. Op. 54, in F major.

  21. Op. 27, No. 1, in E flat major.

  22. Op. 27, No. 2 in C sharp minor. (_Moonlight_).

  23. Op. 31, No. 2 in D minor.

  24. Op. 53, in C major.

  25. Op. 81, in E flat major. (_Les Adieux_).

  26. Op. 78, in F sharp major.

  27. Op. 57, in F minor. (_Appassionata_).

  28. Op. 110, in A flat major.

  29. Op. 109, in E major.

  30. Op. 101, in A major.

  31. Op. 111, in C minor.

  32. Op. 106, in B flat major. (_The Giant_).




               COMPLETE LIST OF BEETHOVEN'S COMPOSITIONS




                      LIST OF BEETHOVEN'S WORKS.

                    Compiled from Marx and Thayer.


                   I.--COMPOSITIONS WITH OPUS NUMBER

 Opus

   1. _Three Trios_ for pianoforte, violin, and violoncello, in E flat,
       G major, and C minor; dedicated to Prince Lichnovsky; composed
       1791-92.

   2. _Three Sonatas_ for piano, in F minor, A major, and C major;
       dedicated to Joseph Haydn; published 1796.

   3. _Trio_ for violin, viola, violoncello, in E flat; composed in Bonn
       before 1792.

   4. _Quintet_ for two violins, two violas, and violoncello, in E flat
       (from octet for wind instruments, Op. 103); published 1795.

   5. _Two Sonatas_ for piano and violoncello, in F major and G minor;
       dedicated to Frederic William II. of Prussia; composed in Berlin
       in 1796.

   6. _Sonata_ for piano, for four hands, in D major; published 1796-97.

   7. _Sonata_ for piano, in E flat; dedicated to the Countess Babette
       von Keglevics; published 1797.

   8. _Serenade_ for violin, viola, and violoncello, in D major;
       published 1797.

   9. _Three Trios_ for violin, viola, and violoncello, in G major, D
       major, and C minor; dedicated to the Count von Brovne; published
       1798.

  10. _Three Sonatas_ for piano, in C minor, F major, and D major;
       dedicated to the Countess von Brovne; published 1798.

  11. _Trio_ for piano, clarionet (or violin), and violoncello, in B
       flat; dedicated to the Countess von Thun; published 1798.

  12. _Three Sonatas_ for piano and violin, in D major, A major, and E
       flat major; dedicated to F. A. Salieri; published 1798-99.

  13. _Sonata Pathétique_ for piano, in C minor; dedicated to Prince
       Lichnovsky; published 1799.

  14. _Two Sonatas_ for piano, in E major and G major; dedicated to the
       Baroness Braun; published 1799.

  15. _First Concerto_ for piano and orchestra, in C major; dedicated to
       the Princess Odescalchy, _née_ Countess von Keglevics; composed
       1795.

  16. _Quintet_ for piano, clarionet, oboe, bassoon, and horn, in E
       flat major; dedicated to the Prince von Schwarzenberg; performed
       1798.

  17. _Sonata_ for piano and horn, in F major; dedicated to the Baroness
       Braun; composed 1800.

  18. _Six Quartets_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in F
       major, G major, D major, C minor, A major, and B flat major;
       dedicated to Prince Lobkovitz; published 1800-1801.

  19. _Second Concerto_ for piano and orchestra, in B flat major;
       dedicated to M. von Nickelsberg; composed 1798.

  20. _Grand Septet_ for violin, viola, violoncello, horn, clarionet,
       bassoon, and double-bass, in E flat; performed 1800.

  21. _First Symphony_ for orchestra, in C major; dedicated to the Baron
       van Swieten; performed 1800.

  22. _Grand Sonata_ for piano, in B flat; dedicated to the Count von
       Browne; composed 1800.

  23. _Sonata_ for piano and violin, in A minor; dedicated to Count
       Moritz von Fries; published 1801.

  24. _Sonata_ for piano and violin, in F major; dedicated to Count
       Moritz von Fries; published 1801 (originally together with
       Op. 23).

  25. _Serenade_ for flute, violin, and viola, in D major; published
       1802.

  26. _Sonata_ for piano, in A flat; dedicated to Prince Lichnovsky;
       composed 1801.

  27. _Two Sonatas quasi Fantasia_, for piano, No. 1, in E flat major,
       dedicated to the Princess Lichtenstein; No. 2, in C sharp minor,
       dedicated to the Countess Julia Guicciardi; composed 1801 (?).

  28. _Sonata_ for piano, in D major; dedicated to M. von Sonnenfels;
       composed 1801.

  29. _Quintet_ for two violins, two violas, and violoncello, in C
       major; dedicated to Count von Fries; composed 1801.

  30. _Three Sonatas_ for piano and violin, in A major, C minor, and G
       major; dedicated to the Emperor Alexander I. of Russia; composed
       1802.

  31. _Three Sonatas_ for piano, in G major, D minor, & E flat major;
       composed 1802 (?).

  32. _To Hope_, words from the _Urania_ of Tiedge; published 1805
       (first setting; see Op. 94).

  33. _Bagatelles_ for piano; composed 1782.

  34. _Six Variations_ for piano, in F major, or an original theme;
       dedicated to the Princess Odescalchy; composed in 1802 (?).

  35. _Fifteen Variations with a Fugue_, for piano, on a theme from
       "Prometheus"; dedicated to Count Maritz Lichnovsky; composed
       1802.

  36. _Second Symphony_ for orchestra, in D major; dedicated to Prince
       Lichnovsky; composed 1802.

  37. _Third Concerto_ for piano and orchestra, in C minor; dedicated to
       Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia; composed 1800.

  38. _Trio_ for piano, clarionet (or violin), and violoncello (from the
      _Septet_, Op. 20), published 1805.

  39. _Two Preludes through all the major and minor keys_, for piano or
       organ; composed 1789.

  40. _Romance_ for violin and orchestra, in G major; composed 1802 (?).

  41. _Serenade_ for piano and flute (or violin), in D major; from
       Opus 5. Published 1803.

  42. _Notturno_ for piano and violoncello, in D major (from Op. 8);
       published 1804.

  43. _Ballet_, "The Men of Prometheus"; composed 1800.

  44. _Fourteen Variations_ for piano, violin, and violoncello, on an
       original theme; composed 1802 (?).

  45. _Three Marches_ for piano, for four hands, in C major, E flat
       major, and D major; dedicated to the Princess Esterhazy; composed
       1802 (1801?).

  46. _Adelaïde_, words by Matthison; composed 1796.

  47. _Sonata_ for piano and violin, in A major; dedicated to the
       violinist, Rudolph Kreutzer; composed 1803.

  48. _Six spiritual songs_, by Gellert; published 1803.

  49. _Two easy Sonatas_ for piano, in G minor and G major; composed
       1802 (?).

  50. _Romance_ for violin and orchestra, in F major; composed in
       1802 (?).

  51. _Two Rondos_ for piano; No. 1 in C major, published 1798 (?);
       No. 2 in G major, dedicated to the Countess Henriette von
       Lichnovsky; published 1802.

  52. _Eight Songs_; words by Claudius, Sophie von Mereau, Burger,
       Goethe, and Lessing; partly composed in Bonn before 1792.

  53. _Grand Sonata_ for piano, in C major; dedicated to Count
       Waldstein; composed in 1803 (?).

  54. _Sonata_ for piano, in F major; composed 1803 (?).

  55. _Third Symphony_ (Eroica) for orchestra, in E flat; dedicated to
       Prince Lobkovitz; composed 1803-4.

  56. _Triple Concerto_ for piano, violin and violoncello, with
       orchestra, in C major; composed 1804-5.

  57. _Grand Sonata_ for piano and orchestra, in G major; dedicated to
       the Count von Brunswick; composed 1804.

  58. _Fourth Concerto_ for piano and orchestra, in G major; dedicated
       to the Archduke Rudolph; composed 1806 (?).

  59. _Three Quartets_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in F
       major, E minor, and C major; dedicated to Prince Rasumovsky;
       composed 1806.

  60. _Fourth Symphony_ for orchestra, in B flat; dedicated to Count
       Oppersdorf; composed 1806.

  61. _Concerto_ for violin and orchestra, in D major; dedicated to
       Stephan von Breuning; composed 1806.

  62. _Overture, "Coriolanus,"_ in C minor; dedicated to the dramatist,
       Heinrich von Collin; composed 1807.

  63. _Sonata_ for piano, violin, and violoncello (from the Octet, Op.
       103); published 1807.

  64. _Sonata_ for piano, violin, and violoncello (from the Trio,
       Op. 3); published 1807.

  65. _Scena and Aria, "Ah, perfido!"_ for soprano voice and orchestra;
       dedicated to the Countess Clari; composed 1796.

  66. _Twelve Variations_ for piano and violoncello, in F major, on
       the theme, _Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen_, from Mozart's
      _Zauberflote_; published 1798.

  67. _Fifth Symphony_ for orchestra, in C minor; dedicated to Prince
       Lobkovitz and Count Rasumovsky; composed 1808 (?).

  68. _Sixth Symphony (Pastoral)_ for orchestra, in F major; dedicated
       to Prince Lobkovitz and Count Rasumovsky; composed 1808 (?).

  69. _Sonata_ for piano and violoncello, in A major; dedicated to
       Baron von Gleichenstein; published 1809.

  70. _Two Trios_ for piano, violin, and violoncello, in D major and E
       flat major; dedicated to the Countess Marie Erdödy; composed
       1808.

  71. _Sextet_ for two clarionets, two flutes, and two bassoons;
       performed 1804-5.

  72. _Fidelio (Leonora)_ opera in two acts; composed 1804-5.

  73. _Fifth Concerto_ for piano and orchestra in E flat; dedicated to
       the Archduke Rudolph; composed 1809.

  74. _Quartet_ (tenth) for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in E
       flat; dedicated to Prince Lobkovitz; composed 1809.

  75. _Six Songs_; words by Goethe and Reissig; dedicated to the
       Princess Kinsky; composed 1810.

  76. _Variations_ for piano, in D major, on an original (?) theme,
       afterwards employed as the _Turkish March_ in the _Ruins of
       Athens_; dedicated to his friend, Aliva; published 1810.

  77. _Fantasia_ for piano, in G minor; dedicated to the Count von
       Brunswick; composed 1809.

  78. _Sonata_ for piano, in F sharp major; dedicated to the Countess
       von Brunswick; composed 1809.

  79. _Sonatina_ for piano, in G major; published 1810.

  80. _Fantasia_ for piano, orchestra, and chorus, in C minor; words,
       "Schmeichelnd hold und lieblich klingen," by Kuffner; dedicated
       to Joseph Maximilian, of Bavaria; performed 1808.

 81A. _Sonata_ for piano, _Les Adieux_, in E flat; dedicated to the
       Archduke Rudolph; composed 1809.

 81B. _Sextet_ for two violins, viola, violoncello, and two horns
       (_obligato_) in E flat; published 1810.

  82. _Four Ariettas and a Duet_, with pianoforte accompaniment; words
     of Nos. 2, 3, and 5, by Mestastasio; published 1811.

  83. _Three Songs_; words by Goethe; dedicated to the Princess Kinsky;
       composed 1810.

  84. _Overture and Incidental Music to "Egmont"_; composed 1809-10.

  85. _"The Mount of Olives," an oratorio_; text by Franz Xaver Huber;
       composed 1800 (?).

  86. _First Mass_ for four voices and orchestra, in C major; dedicated
       to Prince Esterhazy; composed 1807.

  87. _Trio_ for wind instruments, in C major; performed 1797.

  88. _"Das Glück der Freundschaft"_ for voice and piano; published
       1803.

  89. _Polonaise_ for piano, in C major; dedicated to the Empress
       Elisabeth Alexievna of Russia; composed 1814.

  90. _Sonata_ for piano, in E minor; dedicated to Count Moritz
       Lichnowski; composed 1814.

  91. _The Battle of Vittoria_ for orchestra; dedicated to the Prince
       Regent of England; composed 1813.

  92. _Seventh Symphony_ for orchestra, in A major; dedicated to Count
       Fries; composed 1812.

  93. _Eighth Symphony_ for orchestra, in F major; composed 1812.

  94. _"To Hope," words from the "Urania" of Tiegde_ (second setting
        see Op. 32); composed 1816.

  95. _Quartet_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in F minor;
       dedicated to Secretary Zmeskall; composed 1810.

  96. _Sonata_ for piano and violin, in G major; dedicated to the
       Archduke Rudolph; composed 1810.

  97. _Trio_ for piano, violin, and violoncello, in B flat; dedicated to
       the Archduke Rudolph; composed 1811.

  98. _An die ferne Geliebte_, (a _Liederkreis_); words by Jeitteles;
       dedicated to Prince Lobkovitz; composed 1816.

  99. _Der Mann von Wort_, for voice and piano; words by Kleinschmid;
       published 1815.

 100. _Merkenstein_, for one or two voices and piano; words by
       Rupprecht; composed 1814.

 101. _Sonata_ for piano, in A major; dedicated to the Baroness
       Erdmann; composed 1815.

 102. _Two Sonatas_ for piano and violoncello, in C major and D major;
       dedicated to the Countess Erdödy; composed 1815.

 103. _Octet_ for wind instruments, in E flat major; composed in Bonn
       before 1792.

 104. _Quintet_ for two violins, two violas, and violoncello, in C
       minor (from the Trio, No. 3, of Op. 1); published 1819.

 105. _Six themes varied_ for piano, with violin ad libitum; composed
       for George Thomson, Edinburgh, 1818-19.

 106. _Sonata_ for piano, in B flat; dedicated to the Archduke Rudolph;
       composed 1818.

 107. _Ten Themes variés russes, écossais, tyrolienne_ for piano, with
       violin _ad libitum_; composed for George Thomson, 1818-20.

 108. _Twenty-five Scotch Melodies_ for one or two voices, and chorus
       (_obbligato_); published 1825.

 109. _Sonata_ for piano, in E major; dedicated to Fräulein Brentano;
       composed 1821 (?).

 110. _Sonata_ for piano, in A flat major; composed 1821.

 111. _Sonata_ for piano, in C minor; dedicated to the Archduke
       Rudolph; composed 1822.

 112. _Meeresstille und glückliche Fahrt_ for four voices and
       orchestra; dedicated to "the Author of the Poem, the immortal
       Goethe," composed 1815.

 113. _Overture, "The Ruins of Athens"_; composed 1811-12.

 114. _Marches and Choruses from "The Ruins of Athens."_

 115. _Overture, "Namensfeier,"_ in C major; dedicated to Prince
       Radzivill; composed 1814.

 116. _Terzetto_ for soprano, tenor, and bass, with orchestral
       accompaniment; composed 1801.

 117. _Overture and Choruses, "King Stephen"_; performed 1812.

 118. _Elegy_ in memory of the Baroness Pasqualati, "Sanft wie du
       lebtest hast du vollendet" dedicated to the Baron Pasqualati;
       composed 1814.

  119. _Twelve Bagatelles_ for piano; composed 1820-1822.

  120. _Thirty-three Variations on a waltz by Diabelli_; dedicated to
        Madame Brentano; composed 1823.

121A. _Adagio, Variations and Rondo_ for piano, violin, and
       violoncello, in G major; theme, "Ich bin der Schneider Kakadu";
       published 1824.

121B. _Opferlied_ for solo, chorus, and orchestra; words by
       Matthison; composed 1822.

 122. _In allen guten Stunden_, for solo and chorus, with two
       clarionets, two horns, and two bassoons; words by Goethe;
       composed 1822.

 123. _Missa Solemnis_ for four voices, chorus, and orchestra, in D
       major; dedicated to the Cardinal Archduke Rudolph; composed
       1818-1822.

 124. _Overture, "Weihe des Hauses,"_ in C major; dedicated to Prince
       Galitzin; composed 1822.

 125. _Ninth Symphony_ with final chorus on Schiller's _"Ode to Joy"_
       for orchestra, four voices, and chorus, in D minor; dedicated to
       Frederick William III of Prussia; composed 1822-3.

 126. _Six Bagatelles_ for piano; composed about 1821.

 127. _Quartet_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in E flat;
       dedicated to Prince Galitzin; composed 1824.

 128. _"The Kiss," Arietta_ for voice and piano; composed 1822.

 129. _Rondo capriccioso_, in G major.

 130. _Quartet_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in B flat;
       dedicated to Prince Galitzin; composed 1825.

 131. _Quartet_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in C sharp
       minor; dedicated to the Baron von Stutterheim; composed 1826.

 132. _Quartet_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in A minor;
       dedicated to Prince Galitzin; composed 1825.

 133. _Grand Fugue_ for two violins, viola, and violoncello, in B flat;
       dedicated to the Cardinal Archduke Rudolph; composed 1825.

 134. _Grand Fugue_, Op. 133 (arranged for piano for four hands).

 135. _Quartet_ (the sixteenth) for two violins, viola, and cello, in F
       major; dedicated to Herrn Wolfmeier; composed 1826.

 136. _Der Glorreiche Augenblick_, cantata for four voices and
       orchestra; text by Dr. Weissenbach; dedicated to Franz I Emperor
       of Austria, Nicholas I Emperor of Russia, and Frederick
       William III King of Prussia; composed 1814.

 137. _Fugue_ for two violins, two violas, and cello, in D major;
       composed 1817.

 138. _Ouverture caracteristique, "Leonora,"_ No. 1, in C major.

                 *       *       *       *       *

            II.--COMPOSITIONS DESIGNATED SIMPLY BY NUMBERS.

  1A. _Twelve Variations_ for piano and violin, in F major; Theme,
      _Se vuol ballare_, from Mozart's _Figaro_; dedicated to Eleonore
       von Breuning; published 1793. (See page 70).

  1B. _Thirteen Variations_ for piano, in A major; Theme, _Es war
       einmal ein alter Mann_; published 1794.

   2. _Nine Variations_ for piano in A major; Theme, _Quant è più
       bello_; published 1797.

  3A. _Six Variations_ for piano; Theme, _Nel cor più non mi sento_;
       composed 1795.

  3B. _Two Minuets_ for piano, for four hands.

   4. _Twelve Variations_ for piano, in C major; Theme, _Menuet à la
       Vigano_; published 1796.

  5A. _Twelve Variations_ for piano, in A major; Theme from the ballet
       of the _Wood maiden_; published 1797.

  5B. _Twelve Variations_ for piano and violoncello, in G major; Theme,
       "See, the Conquering Hero comes!" published 1804.

   6. _Twelve Variations_ for piano and violoncello, in F major (see Op.
       66).

   7. _Eight Variations_ for piano, in C major; Theme from Grétry's
      _Richard Cœur de Lion_; published 1798.

   8. _Ten Variations_ for piano, in B flat major; Theme, _La stessa, la
       stessissima_; published 1799.

   9. _Seven Variations_ for piano, in F major; Theme, _Kind willst du
       ruhig schlafen_; published 1799.

 10A. _Eight Variations_ for piano, in F major; Theme, _Tändeln and
       Scherzen_; composed 1799.

 10B. _Seven Variations_ for piano and violoncello, in E flat; Theme
       from _The Magic Flute_; composed 1801 (?).

  11. _Six very easy Variations on an original Theme_; composed 1801.

  12. _Six easy Variations_ for piano or harp, in F major; Theme, Swiss
       Air; published 1799 (?).

  13. _Twenty-four Variations_ for piano, in D major, on a Theme by
       Righini; composed about 1790.

14-23. Missing.

  24. _Der Wachtelschlag_ for voice and piano; words by Sauter;
       published 1804.

  25. _Seven Variations_ for piano, in C major; Theme, _God save the
       King_; published 1804.

  26. _Five Variations_ (favourite) for piano, in D major; Theme, _Rule
       Britannia_; published 1804.

  27. _Six Variations_ for piano, for four hands, in D major, on an
       original Theme; composed 1800.

  28. _Minuet_ for piano.

  29. _Prelude_ for piano, in F minor; published 1805.

30-31. Missing.

  32. _To Hope_ by Tiedge (see Op. 94).

33-34. Missing.

  35. _Andante_ for piano in F major (originally in the Sonata, Op. 53);
       composed 1803 (?).

  36. _Thirty-two Variations_ for piano, in C minor, on an original
       Theme; published 1807.

  37. Missing.

  38. _Die Sehnsucht_ four melodies for voice and piano; text by Goethe;
       published 1810.

                 *       *       *       *       *

               III.--COMPOSITIONS DESIGNATED BY LETTERS.


                        A.--INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC.

(a) _Trio_ for piano, violin, and violoncello (in one movement), in B
     flat; dedicated to "My little friend, Maximiliana Brentano, for her
     encouragement in pianoforte playing"; composed 1812.

(b) _Rondo_ for piano and violin, in G major; published 1800.

(c) _Andante_ for piano, in G.

(d) _Sonata_ for piano, in C major (incomplete); composed 1796.

(e) _Two easy Sonatinas_ for piano, in G major and F major; composed
     in Bonn.

(f) _Three Sonatas_ for piano, in E flat major, F minor, and D major;
     dedicated to the Elector, Max. Friedrich; composed at the age of
     ten.

(g) _Rondo_ for piano, in A major; published 1784.

(h) _Andante_ on the text, "Oh Hoffnung, du stählst die Herzen." (Ex.
     for the Archduke Rudolph).

(i) _Favourite March_ of the Emperor Alexander.

(k) _Eight Variations_ for piano, in B flat; Theme, _Ich habe ein
     kleines Hüttchen nur_.

(l) _Variations_ for piano, on a March by Dressler; composed at the
     age of ten.

(m) _Variations_ for piano, for four hands, on an original theme.

(n) _Variations_ for piano, for four hands, in A major.

(o) _Triumphal March_ for orchestra, in C major; performed 1813.

(p) _Second and Third Overtures to "Leonora"_ ("Fidelio"), in C major.

(q) _Overture to "Fidelio"_ ("Leonora," No. 4), in E flat.

(r) _Triumphal March_ for orchestra in G major.

(s) _Three Duos_ for clarionet and bassoon, in C major, F major, and B
     flat; composed about 1800.

(t) _Minuet_ for piano (from the Septet, Op. 20).

(u) _Quintet_ (MS.), for two violins, two violas, and violoncello in
     F major.


                           B.--DANCE MUSIC.

_Twelve Contre-danses._

_Twelve Minuets_ for orchestra.

_Six Minuets_ for piano.

_Twelve Danses Allemandes_ for two violins and bass.

_Seven Country Dances_ for piano.

_Six Country Dances_ for piano.

_Twelve Ecossaises_ for piano.

_Six Allemandes_ for piano and violin.

_Twelve Waltzes with Trios_ for orchestra.

_Six Waltzes_ for two violins and bass.

_Two Minuets_ for piano, for four hands.

_Six Country Dances_ for piano.

_Two favourite Waltzes_ for piano, in B flat major and F minor.


                           C.--VOCAL MUSIC.

 a. _Six Songs_ from Reissig's "_Blümchen der Einsamkeit_":--

     1. _Sehnsucht_, in E major.
     2. _Krieger's Abschied_, in E flat.
     3. _Der Jüngling in der Fremde_, in B flat.
     4. _An den fernen Geliebten_, in G major.
     5. _Der Zufriedene_, in A major.
     6. _Der Liebende_, in D major.

 b. _Three Songs_:--

     1. _An die Geliebte_, in B flat.
     2. _Das Geheimniss_, in G major.
     3. _So oder so! Nord oder Süd._

 c. _Italian and German Songs_:--

     1. _La Partenza_ ("ecco quel fiore").
     2. _Trinklied._
     3. _Liedchen von der Ruhe._
     4. _An die Hoffnung._
     5. _Ich liebe dich, so wie du mich._
     6. _Molly's Abschied._
     7. _Ohne Liebe._
     8. _Wachtelgesang._
     9. _Marmotte._
    10. _Maigesang._
    11. _Feuerfarbe._
    12. _Ecco quel fiori istanti._

 d. _Songs_ for one or more voices, from Shakespeare, Byron, and Moore.

 e. _Der Glorreiche Augenblick_ for four voices and orchestra.

 f. _Lied aus der Ferne._

 g. _Three Songs_ from Tiedge.

 h. _Three Songs._

 i. _Three Songs._

 k. _Oh! dass ich dir vom stillen Auge._

 l. _Sehnsucht nach dem Rhein._

 m. _Die Klage._

 n. _Three Andantes._

 o. _Ruf vom Berge._

 p. _Der Bardengeist._

 q. _Als die Geliebte sich trennen wollte._

 r. _Elegy_ on the death of a Poodle.

 s. _Arietta_ in A flat major.

 t. _Canon_ in E flat major.

 u. _Zärtliche Liebe._

 v. _Resignation_, and _Lisch' aus_, in E major.

 w. _Canon_ for six voices.

 x. _Canon_ for four voices.

 y. _Canon_ for three voices.

 z. _Canon_ written in the album of Director Neide.

tz. _Song of the Monks_, from Schiller's _William Tell_.

a2. _Song of the Nightingale._

b2. _Germania's Wiedergeburt_ for four voices and orchestra.

c2. _Abschiedsgesang an Wiens Bürger._

e2. _Final Songs_ from (1) _Die Ehrenpforte_, in D major; (2) _Die
     gute Nachricht_.

f2. _Andenken von Matthison_--allegretto. g. _Three-part Song._

                 *       *       *       *       *

IV.--COMPOSITIONS WHICH APPEARED AFTER BEETHOVEN'S DEATH, WITHOUT BEING
                     DESIGNATED AS OPUS OR NUMBER.

a. _Beethoven's Heimgang_ for voice and piano.

b. _An Sie_, Song, in A flat major.

c. _Two Songs_:--

1. _Seufzer eines Ungeliebten._

2. _Die laute Klage._

d. _Die Ehre Gottes in der Natur_ for four voices and orchestra, in C
    major.

e. _Cantata, "Europa steht."_

f. _Song, "Gedenke mein."_

g. _Empfindungen bei Lydia's Untreu_, in E flat.

h. _Equali_, two pieces for four trombones.

i. _Allegretto_ for orchestra.

k. _Three Quartets._

l. _Rondo_ for piano and orchestra.

m. _Octet_ for wind instruments.

n. _Rondino_ for eight-part harmony.

o. _Two Trios_ for piano, violin and Violoncello.

p. _Military March_ for piano.

q. _Lament at Beethoven's Grave._

r. _The Last Musical Thought._




                                 INDEX




                                 INDEX


              A

Amenda, Carl, 10, 65

Antwerp, 4 n.

_Appassionata_, sonata, 18, 154

v. Arnim, Bettina, 29 n.

"Art unites everybody," 105


              B

Bach, J. S., 21, 48, 82, 104, 105;
  his fugues, 160

Beauty, 101

Beethoven, Carl, 14, 38, 39;
  Johann, 14

BEETHOVEN, LUDWIG:
  Birth, 3;
  Flemish origin, 3, 30;
  his Father, 4;
  his Mother, 4;
  his Grandfather, 4 n.;
  his Republican sympathies, 8, 17;
  his deafness, 9;
  his first concert in Vienna, 9;
  unhappiness, 15;
  in love, 22;
  his short-sightedness, 22;
  love-letter, 23;
  consciousness
  of power, 26;
  his taste in literature, 27;
  "pedantic," 34;
  his deafness, 34;
  conversation-books, 35 n.;
  unrestfulness of mind, 37;
  lodgings, 37 n.;
  foster-son, 41;
  note-books, 43;
  death-bed, 51;
  operations, 51 n.;
  his will, 57-61;
  his letters, 65-98;
  his bad health, 73;
  deafness, 74-5, 78;
  "raptus," 77;
  prices for his copyrights, 82-3;
  approaching end, 97;
  his Thoughts on Music, 101-6;
  his piano-playing, 104

Bernhard, Mme. de, 9

Bibliography, 195

Bilingual tempo indications, 158

Bonaparte, Jerome, 33

----, Napoleon, 19, 31, 112

Bonn, 3, 6, 85

Botticelli's _Bambino_, 12

Brahms, 165

Braunthal, 2

Brentano, Bettina, 27

----, Maximiliana, 162

v. Breuning, Councillor, 96, 98

v. Breuning, Eleonore, 5, 69, 84

v. Breuning, Steffen, 76, 80

v. Breuning, Stephen, 34

v. Brunswick, Franz, 32, 154

v. Brunswick, Therese, 20, 25, 37, 156

Brutus, 28 n.


              C

Cherubini, 38 n., 105

_Choral Symphony_, 36, 43

Chorus, 43

Christ, 28 n.

Church music, 103

_C Minor_, 53

Coda, 165

Composing, 102

_Coriolanus Overture_, 18

Critics and Criticism, 106


              D

Divine, The, in Music, 101


              E

_Egmont_, 19

Elgar, _Enigma Variations_, 115

"Englishmen, magnanimous," 95

v. Erdödy, Maria, 34 n., 54

_Eroica_, 53

---- _Symphony_, 17

Ertmann, Freund Dorothea, 160


              F

"Fate knocks at the door," 118

_Fidelio_, 35, 102

_First Symphony_, 12

_Fourth Quartet_, 18

Freudenberg, 104

Fugue, 162, 164, 165

_Funeral March_, 16, 19, 113


              G

Galitzin, Prince, 38

Gallenberg, Count, 14

Gelinck, 9

Gellert, 16

Gerardi, Fräulein, 68

Gerhard, Wilhelm, 103

Godesburg, 85

Goethe, 27, 28, 29 n., 30 n.

Goethe, _Faust_, 48

Grillparzer, 49, 53

---- _Melusina_, 48

Guicciardi, Giulietta, 13


              H

_Hammerclavier, Sonata for the_, 161

Handel, 48, 104

_Heiligenstadt Testament_, 14, 60

Hoche, 19

Hofmeister, Capellmeister, 81

Homer, 27 n.

Hornemann's miniature of Beethoven, 16 n.

Hulin, General, 19

Hummel, 94


              I

"Immortal Beloved," Beethoven's, 23

d'Indy, Vincent F., 164

Italy, 48


              K

Kempis' _Imitation of Christ_, 52 n.

King Lear, 44

Kinsky, Prince, 33

Klein, Franz, 32

Körner's _Odyssey_, 48

_Kreutzer Sonata_, 16

Kuffner (poet), 49


              L

_Les Adieux_, 155

"Lebe-wohl," 158

Lichnovsky, Prince, 60, 73

Lobkovitz, 19, 33

Lorchen, 77, 81


             M

_Macbeth_, 42 n.

Malchus, 71

Martonvasar, 20

_Mass in D_, 38, 162, 163

Mendelssohn, 157

Michael Angelo, 28 n., 39

Military band, 129

Modulation, 128

_Moonlight Sonata_, 16

Moscheles I., 2, 48, 93, 94

Mozart, 4, 105

---- _Don Giovanni_, 13

Müller, Dr., 49


              N

Napoleon I., 19, 31, 112

Nephew, Beethoven's, 50


              O

_Ode to Joy_, 42

"Opera, An",21

Opferlied, 87

Orchestra, 119


              P

Palestrina, 103

Passage work, 104

Pépinière, 85

Philharmonic Society, 93, 94-5, 97

Philosophy, 101

Pianoforte Concertos, 19

Plutarch, 11, 27 n., 75


              Q

_Quartets_ analyzed, 179

_Quartets_, Op. 59, 34

_Quartet_, Op. 130, _Finale_, 132, 38

_Quartets_, Op. 132, 43

_Quartet_, Op. 130, _Final_, 50

Quips and sallies, 117


              R

Revolution, French, 7

_Rhenish Song_, 12

Rhine valley, 6, 51, 72

Rhythm, 123

Rossini, 34, 45

Rudolph, Archduke, 33, 102, 103, 161, 165

Russell (English traveller), 37


              S

Scale, Perversity of, 124

_Scherzo_, 114, 119, 162

Schindler, 31, 35, 36 n., 47, 159

Schmidt, Professor, 59, 60

Schott, Brothers, 90, 96

Schiller, 42 n.

Schumann, 53, 115

Second Period Style, 112

_Septet_, 12

Shakespeare, 3, 27 n., 28 n.

Shedlock, J. S., 65 n.

_Six Religious Songs_, 16

Smart, Sir George, 92

Socrates, 28 n.

_Sonatas_ analyzed, 133

_Sonata_ in D, 11

_Sonata_ in F sharp, 23

_Sonata_ with the _Funeral March_, 16

_Sonata_ in D Minor, Op. 31, 16

_Sonata, Moonlight_, 16

_Sonata, Kreutzer_, 16

_Sonata, Appassionata_, 18, 154

_Sonata_, Op. 106, 38

_Sonata, Les Adieux_, 155

_Sonate pathétique_, 11

_Song of Farewell_, 8

Spiker, Dr., 49

Stadler, Abb., 105

Steinhauser's sketch of Beethoven, 8

_String Quartet_, in A minor, Finale, 126

_String Quartet_, Opus 132, 164

_String Quartet_, 1, Opus 18, No. 1, in F, 179

_String Quartet_, 2, Op. 18, No. 2, in G major, 179

_String Quartet_, 3, Op. 18, No. 3, in D, 180

_String Quartet_, 4, Op. 18, No. 4, in C minor, 181

_String Quartet_, 5, Op. 18, No. 5, in A, 181

_String Quartet_, 6, Op. 18, No. 6, in B flat, 181

_String Quartet_, 7, Op. 59, No. 1, in F, 183

_String Quartet_, 8, Op. 59, No. 2, in E minor, 184

_String Quartet_, 9, Op. 59, No. 3, in G major, 185

_String Quartet_, 10, Op. 74, in E flat, 186

_String Quartet_, 11, Op. 95, in F minor, 186

_String Quartet_, 12, Op. 127, in E flat, 187

_String Quartet_, 13, Op. 130, in B flat, 188

_String Quartet_, 14, Op. 133, in C sharp minor, 189

_String Quartet_, 15, Op. 132, in A minor, 190

_String Quartet_, 16, Op. 135, in F major, 191

_Symphonies_ (The nine), analysed:
  No. 1, 109
   " 2, 110
   " 3, 112
   " 4, 115
   " 5, 117
   " 6, 120
   " 7, 122
   " 8, 124
   " 9, 126

_Symphony, Eroica_, 17

_---- Second_, 16

_---- C Minor_, 19

_----Fourth_, 21

_---- in B flat_, 22

_---- Seventh_, 29

_---- Eighth_, 29

_---- Ninth_, 42, 46, 47n.

_---- Tenth_, 43, 48, 48n.

_---- Eleventh_, 43

_---- in A_, 30

_---- Ninth_, metronomized, 95

_---- Ninth_, 115

_---- Pastoral_, 120


              T

_Tannhäuser_, 48 n.

"Tedesca," 156

Theme of Joy, 43

Thomson, George, 103

Töplitz, 28

Touch in Piano-playing, 104


              U

Umlauf, 35

Una corda, 164


              V

Variations, 165

Vienna, 6, 7, 31, 32, 45, 109

_Violin Sonatas_ analyzed, 169

_Violin Sonata_, 1, Opus 12, No. 1, in D, 169

_Violin Sonata_, 2, Op. 12, No. 2, in A, 170

_Violin Sonata_, 3, Op. 12, No. 3, in E flat, 170

_Violin Sonata_, 4, Op. 23, in A minor and major, 170

_Violin Sonata_, 5, Op. 24, in F, 171

_Violin Sonata_, 6, Op. 30, No. 1, in A, 172

_Violin Sonata_, 7, Op. 30, No. 2, in C minor, 173

_Violin Sonata_, 8, Op. 30, No. 3, in G, 173

_Violin Sonata_, 9, Op. 47, in A, 174

_Violin Sonata_, 10, Op. 96, in G, 175

Voltaire, 106


              W

Wagner, 32

---- _Woodland Murmurs_, 121

Waldstein, Count, 153

Wegeler, Dr. F., 6, 10, 15 n., 51, 54 n., 72, 78, 84, 88, 91

Wegeler, Julius, 87

Wegeler, Eln., 88


              Z

Zelter, 29 n., 30 n.


_Printed in Great Britain by Ebenezer Baylis & Son, Worcester._

                 *       *       *       *       *

                          TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:

This project is dedicated to the memory of Eduardo Suárez, who loved
Beethoven's music and this book.

Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

A number of words in this book have both hyphenated and non-hyphenated
variants. The trend in the original book was to hyphenate compound
words. Therefore, for the words with both variants present the
hyphenated variant was chosen in most of the cases.

The list item in the Table of Contents pointing to page 93 is for
a letter to I. Moscheles and not to Sir G. Smart as it was printed
originally in the book. There is another letter to I. Moscheles on page
94 that is missing in the original. These errors have been corrected.

The present book was originally written in French and has been
translated into English. The Transcriber believes a translation error
has been made in the English version. The text in question in page 198
of the book reads as follows:

    _This biography was commenced in 1866, but was interrupted by the
    death of the author in 1897 at Trieste where he was the American
    Consul. The work stood still till 1816,..._

For the above paragraph, the French version ("Vie de Beethoven", Romain
Rolland, Hachette, 1914, 7eme. edition, Page 148) reads as follows:

    _Commencé en 1866; interrompu par la mort de l'auteur, en 1897, à
    Trieste, où il était consul des États-Unis; l'ouvrage s'arrête à
    l'année 1816..._

The Transcriber believes that the above French text should be
translated into English as:

    This biography was commenced in 1866, but was interrupted by the
    death of the author in 1897, at Trieste, where he was the American
    Consul. The work stops at the year 1816..._

Obvious punctuation and other printing errors have been corrected.





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