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diff --git a/old/69693-h/69693-h.htm b/old/69693-h/69693-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 10aaab7..0000000 --- a/old/69693-h/69693-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6478 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html> -<html lang="en"> -<head> - <meta charset="UTF-8"> - <title> - Life of Beethoven, by Louis Nohl—A Project Gutenberg eBook - </title> - <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> - <style> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} -hr.tiny {width: 10%; margin-left: 45%; margin-right: 45%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;} -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - -.tdl {text-align: left; text-indent: -1em; } -.tdr {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} -.tdc {text-align: center; font-weight: bold;} - -.pagenum { - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; - text-indent: 0; -} - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 17.5%; - margin-right: 17.5%; -} - -.x-ebookmaker .blockquot { - margin-left: 7.5%; - margin-right: 7.5%; -} - -.gap {padding-left: 5em;} -.gap2 {padding-left: 8.5em;} - -.floatright {float: right;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} -.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;} -.ph3 {text-align: center; font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;} - -div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} -div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} - -.xlarge {font-size: 150%;} -.large {font-size: 125%;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} - -img { - max-width: 100%; - height: auto; -} - -img.w100 {width: 100%;} - -.illowp51 {width: 51%;} - -.x-ebookmaker .illowp51 {width: 75%;} - -.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 100%; -} - -.footnote {margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} - -.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 75%; text-align: right;} - -.fnanchor { - vertical-align: super; - font-size: .8em; - text-decoration: - none; -} - -.hangingindent {text-indent: -1em; margin-bottom: 2em; } - -.poetry-container {text-align: center;} -.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} -.poetry .verse {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;} -.poetry .indent {text-indent: 1.5em;} -.poetry .first {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} -.poetry .center {text-align: center;} -@media print { .poetry {display: block;} } -.x-ebookmaker .poetry {display: block; margin-left: 3em;} - -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - margin-left: 17.5%; - margin-right: 17.5%; - padding: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - -</style> -</head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Life of Beethoven, by Louis Nohl</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Life of Beethoven</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>Biographies of musicians</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Louis Nohl</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Translator: John J. Lalor</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 3, 2023 [eBook #69693]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: D A Alexander, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE OF BEETHOVEN ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<figure class="figcenter illowp51" id="i_frontispiece" style="max-width: 450px;"> -<img class="w100" src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" alt="Ludwig Van Beethoven"> -<figcaption class="caption"> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Ludwig Van Beethoven.</span></p></figcaption> -</figure> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<p><span class="large"><i>BIOGRAPHIES OF MUSICIANS.</i></span></p> - -<hr class="tb"> - -<h1><span class="smcap">Life of Beethoven</span></h1> - -<p>BY<br> -<span class="xlarge">LOUIS NOHL</span></p> - -<p>TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN<br> -BY<br> -<span class="large">JOHN J. LALOR.</span></p> - -<hr class="tiny"> -<p>“<i>Our age has need of vigorous minds.</i>”</p> -<hr class="tiny"> - -<p>CHICAGO:<br> -JANSEN, McCLURG & COMPANY.<br> -1881.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center">COPYRIGHT.<br> -<span class="large">JANSEN, McCLURG & COMPANY.</span><br> -A. D. 1880.<br> -<br> -STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED<br> -BY<br> -THE CHICAGO LEGAL NEWS COMPANY.</p> -</div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">INTRODUCTION.</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Music</span> is the most popular of the arts. It fills -man’s breast with a melancholy joy. Even the brute -creation is not insensible to its power. Yet, at its -best, music is a haughty, exclusive being, and not -without reason are training, practice, talent, and -the development of that talent, required for the -understanding of her secrets. “One wishes to be -heard with the intellect, by one’s equals; emotion -becomes only women, but music should strike fire -from the mind of a man.” In some such strain as -this, Beethoven himself once spoke, and we know -how slowly the works of the great symphonist found -a hearing and recognition from the general public.</p> - -<p>Yet, who is there to-day who does not know the -name of Beethoven? Who is there that, hearing -one of his compositions, does not feel the presence -of a sublime, all-ruling power—of a power that -springs from the deepest sources of all life? His -very name inspires us with a feeling of veneration, -and we can readily believe the accounts that have -come down to us; how even strangers drew back -with a species of awe, before this man of imposing -appearance, spite of his smallness of stature, with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span> -his rounded shoulders, erect head, wavy hair and -piercing glance. Who has not heard of the two -charcoal-burners who suddenly stopped their heavily -laden vehicle when they met, in a narrow pass, -this “crabbed musician,” so well known to all -Vienna, and who was wont to stand and think, and -then, humming, to go his way, moving about bee-like -through nature from sunrise, with his memorandum book -in his hand.</p> - -<p>We are moved with the same feeling of respect -that moved those common men, when we hear only -Beethoven’s name, but how much more powerfully -are we stirred when we hear his music! We feel -in that music the presence of the spirit that animates -and sustains the world, and which is continually -calling new life into existence. Even the -person who is not a musician himself may feel, in -these mighty productions, the certainty of the -presence of the Creator of all things. Their tones -sound to him like the voice of man’s heart of -hearts, the joys and sorrows of which Beethoven -has laid bare to us. We feel convinced, when we -hear them, that the person who in them speaks to -us has, in very deed, something to tell us, something -of our own life; because he lived and felt -more deeply than we what we all live and feel, and -loved and suffered what we all love and suffer, more -deeply than any other child of dust. In Beethoven, -we meet with a personage really great, both in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span> -mind and heart, one who was able to become a -sublime model to us, because life and art were serious -things with him, and one who made it his duty -“to live not for himself, but for other men.” The -high degree of self-denying power found in this -phenomenon of art, it is that has such an elevating -effect on us. The duties of life and the tasks -of the artist he discharged with equal fidelity. -His life was the foundation on which the superstructure -of his works rose. His greatness as a -man was the source of his greatness as an artist. -The mere story of his life, given here in outline, -reveals to us the internal springs of his artistic -creations, and we must perforce admit, that the -history of Beethoven’s life is a part of the history -of the higher intellectual life of our time and of -humanity.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS.</h2> -</div> - -<table> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER I.</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">BEETHOVEN’S YOUTH AND EARLIEST EFFORTS.</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">Birth and Baptism—His Family—Young Beethoven’s Character—His<br> -Brothers Karl and Johann—Early Talent for Music—Appears in<br> -Public at the Age of Seven—Errors as to His Age—Travels in Holland—Studies<br> -the Organ in Vienna—His Fame Foretold—His Personal<br> -Appearance—Meets Mozart—Mozart’s Opinion of Him—Maximilian,<br> -Elector of Cologne, and Mozart—Beethoven’s Intellectual<br> -Training—Madame von Breuning—First Love—Beethoven and<br> -Hayden—Compositions written in Vienna</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a>-<a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER II.</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">THE EROICA AND FIDELIO.</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">Music in Vienna—Society in Vienna—Beethoven’s Dedications—Lichnowsky—The<br> -Eroica and Fidelio—Beethoven’s First Great Exploits—Plans<br> -for Future Work—Decides to Remove to the North—New Compositions—His<br> -Improvisations—Disappointments in North Germany—Prince<br> -Louis Ferdinand—Makes His Home in Austria—Neglects His<br> -Health—His Deafness—Origin of the Eroica—Napoleon I—Bernadotte—The<br> -Symphony in C Minor—His Deafness Again—Thoughts<br> -of Marriage—The Guicciardi Family—Meaning of His Music—His<br> -“Will”—Disappointment—Meaning of the Eroica and Fidelio—The<br> -Leonore Overture—Other Compositions</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_40">40</a>-<a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER III.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">THE SYMPHONY C MINOR.—THE PASTORALE, AND THE SEVENTH,<br> SYMPHONIES.</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">The Pastorale—Meaning of the Apassionata—Beethoven’s Letter to His<br> -“Immortal Loved One”—His Own Opinion of the Apassionata—Thinks<br> -of Writing Operas—Court Composer—Overture to Coriolanus—The<br> -Mass in C, op. 86—His Sacred Music—The Fidelio In Prague—Music<br> -for Goethe’s Faust—“Power, the Moral Code”—Character of<br> -His Works about this Period—Intercourse with the Malfattis—The<br> -Cello Sonata, op. 69—Improvement in His pecuniary Circumstances—Joseph<br> -Bonaparte—Vienna fears to lose Him—Contemplated Journey<br> -to England—The Seventh Symphony—His <i>Heirathspartie</i>—His<br> -Letter to Bettina—His Estimate of Genius</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_82">82</a>-<a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER IV.</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">THE MISSA SOLEMNIS AND THE NINTH SYMPHONY.</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">Resignation—Pecuniary Distress—Napoleon’s Decline—The Battle-Symphony—Its<br> -Success—Wellington’s Victory—Strange Conduct—Intellectual<br> -Exaltation—His Picture by Letronne—The Fidelio Before the<br> -Assembled Monarchs—Beethoven the Object of Universal Attention—Presents<br> -from Kings—The Liederkreis—Madame von Ertmann—Romulus<br> -and the Oratorio—His “Own Style”—Symphony for<br> -London—Opinion of the English People—His Missa Solemnis—His<br> -Own Opinion of it—Its Completion—Characteristics—The Ninth Symphony</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_122">122</a>-<a href="#Page_162">162</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER V.</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">THE LAST QUARTETS</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">Berlioz on the Lot of Artists—Beethoven Misunderstood—The Great<br> -Concert of May, 1821—Preparation for It—Small Returns—Beethoven<br> -Appreciated—The Quartets—An “Oratorio for Boston”—Overture<br> -on B-A-C-H—Influence of His Personal Experience on His Works—His<br> -Brother Johann—Presentiment of Death—The Restoration of<br> -Metternich and Gentz—His “Son”—Troubles with the Young Man<br> -Debility—Calls for Dr. Malfatti—Poverty—The “Magnanimous”<br> -English—Calls a Clergyman—His Death</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_163">163</a>-<a href="#Page_201">201</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span></p> - -<p class="ph2">LIFE OF BEETHOVEN.</p> - -<hr class="tiny"> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</h2> - -<p class="ph1">1770-1794</p> - -<p class="ph1">BEETHOVEN’S YOUTH AND EARLIEST EFFORTS.</p> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<div class="hangingindent"> -<p>Birth and Baptism—His Family—Young Beethoven’s Character—His -Brothers Karl and Johann—Early Talent for Music—Appears -in Public at the Age of Seven—Error as to His -Age—Travels in Holland—Studies the Organ in Vienna—His -Fame Foretold—His Personal Appearance—Meets -Mozart—Mozart’s Opinion of Him—Maximilian, Elector -of Cologne, and Mozart—Beethoven’s Intellectual Training—Madame -von Breuning—First Love—Beethoven and -Haydn—Compositions written in Vienna.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ludwig van Beethoven</span> was baptized in -Bonn on the 17th of December, 1770. We -know only this the date of his baptism, with -any certainty, and hence the 17th of December -is assumed to be his birthday likewise.</p> - -<p>His father, Johann van Beethoven, was a -singer in the chapel of the Elector, in Bonn. -The family, however, had come originally from -the Netherlands. Beethoven’s grandfather -came to Bonn in 1732 after willfully leaving the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span> -parental roof in consequence of a quarrel. He -had attracted attention as a bass singer in the -church and the theater, and was made director -of the court band in 1763. By his industry, he -had founded a family, was earning a respectable -livelihood, and had won for himself the -personal regard of the community. He did, -besides, a small business in wines, but this, -which was only accessory to his calling as a -musician, contributed to undermine both his -own happiness and his son’s. His wife, Josepha -Poll, fell a victim to the vice of intemperance, -and, in consequence, it at last became -necessary to confine her in a convent in -Cologne. Unfortunately, the only surviving -son inherited the vice of his mother.</p> - -<p>“Johann van Beethoven was given to the tasting -of wine from a very early age,” says the -account of his playmates. It was not long before -this weakness got the upper hand to such -an extent that his family and home suffered -greatly. It finally led to his discharge from -his position. Stephan van Breuning, our own -Beethoven’s friend in youth, saw him, on one -occasion, liberate the drunken father out of the -hands of the police in the public streets.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>We here get a glimpse at a period in Beethoven’s -youth, which put the strength of his -mind as well as the goodness of his heart to -the test. For in consequence of the very respectable -position occupied by his grandfather, -of his own early appointment as court organist, -and of the rapid development of his -talent, Beethoven soon enjoyed the society of -the higher classes, and was employed in the -capacity of musician in the families of the -nobility and at court. Yet, we are told, whenever -it happened that he and his two younger -brothers were obliged to take their intoxicated -father home, they always performed that -disagreeable task with the utmost tenderness. -He was never known to utter a hard or unkind -word about the man who had made his -youth so sunless, and he never failed to resent -it when a third person spoke uncharitably of -his father’s frailty. The reserve and a certain -haughtiness, however, which marked his disposition -as a youth and a man, are traceable to -these early harsh experiences.</p> - -<p>And who knows the complications which -caused misfortune to get the upper hand here! -True, we are told that “Johann van Beethoven<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> -was of a volatile and flighty disposition;” but -even his playmates, when he was a boy, had -nothing bad to say of his character. Anger -and stubbornness seem, indeed, to have been -the inheritance of his Netherland nature; and -these our hero also displayed to no small extent. -But while the grandfather had earned a very -good position for himself, and always so deported -himself that young Beethoven might take -him as an example, and loved to speak of him -as a “man of honor,” his father was never -more than a singer in the chapel, on a small -salary. But, notwithstanding his comparatively -humble social position, he had made a -mistake in marrying below his station.</p> - -<p>Johann van Beethoven took Magdalena -Kewerich, of Ehrenbreitstein, to wife, in 1763. -She is described as a “pretty and slender -woman.” She had served as a chambermaid, -for a time, in some of the families of the great, -had married young, and was left a widow at the -age of nineteen. Johann’s marriage to this -woman was not acceptable to the court <i>capellmeister</i>, -and so it happened that he was obliged -to leave the home in which he had thus far -lived with his lonely father, and move into a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span> -wing of the house, number 515, in Bonn -street, where his son Ludwig, the subject of -this sketch, was born.</p> - -<p>The young wife brought no property to her -husband. Several children were born to the -newly married couple in quick succession. Of -these, Karl, born in 1774 and Johann in 1766, -play some part in Beethoven’s life. The growth -of the family was so rapid that it was not long -before they felt the burthen of pecuniary -distress. The grandfather, who was well to -do, helped them, at first. His stately figure -in his red coat, with his massive head and “big -eyes,” remained fixed in the boy Ludwig’s -memory, although he was only three years of -age when his grandfather died. The child -was, indeed, tenderly attached to him. As -the father’s poverty increased, he made some -efforts to improve his condition. But they -were of no avail; for his deportment was only -“passable” and his voice “was leaving him.” -He now had recourse to teaching, and obtained -employment in the theater, for he played the -violin also. Sickness, however, soon eat up -what was left of his little fortune. Their -furniture and table ware followed their silver-service<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> -and linen—“which one might have -drawn through a ring,”—to the pawn-shop; -and now the father’s poverty contributed only -to make him, more and more, the victim of -his weakness for the cup.</p> - -<p>But there was even now one star of hope in -the dreary firmament of his existence—his son -Ludwig’s talent for music. This talent showed -itself in very early childhood, and could not, -by any possibility, escape the observation of -the father, who, after all, was himself a “good -musician.” And, although the father was not -destined to live to see his son in the zenith of -his success, it was his son’s talent alone that -saved the family from ruin and their name -from oblivion, for with the birth of Beethoven’s -younger brother, Johann, and of a sister -who died shortly after, the circumstances of -the family became still more straightened. -Mozart had been in Bonn a short time before, -and it occurred to the father to train his son -to be a second little Mozart, and, by traveling -with him, earn the means of subsistence of -which the family stood so sorely in need. -And so the boy was rigidly kept to his lessons -on the piano and violin. His daily exercises<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> -on these instruments must have been a severer -task on him than would seem to be necessary -in a regular course of musical training. -He used to be taken from his playing -with other children to practice, and friends of -his youth tell us how they saw him standing -on a stool before the piano and cry while he -practiced his lessons. Even the rod was called -into requisition in his education, and the expostulations -of friends could not dissuade the -father from such relentless severity. But the -end was attained. Regular and persevering -exercise, laid the foundation of a skill in the -art of music, which led him before the public -when only seven years of age. On the -26th of March (by a strange coincidence the -day of the month on which Beethoven died), -the father announced, in a paper published in -Cologne, that “his son, aged six years, would -have the honor to wait on the public with several -concertos for the piano, when, he flattered -himself, he would be able to afford a distinguished -audience a rich treat; and this all the -more since he had been favored with a hearing -by the whole court, who listened to him with -the greatest pleasure.” The child, to enhance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span> -the surprise, was made one year younger in this -announcement than he was in reality; and this -led Beethoven himself into an error as to his -age, which he did not discover until he was -nearly forty.</p> - -<p>We need say but little concerning his other -teachers when a youth. His great school was -want, which urged him to follow and practice -his art, so that he might master it, and, with -its assistance, make his way through the -world. When Beethoven grew to be eight -years of age, he had as a teacher, in addition -to his father, the vocalist Tobias Pfeiffer, for a -whole year. Pfeiffer lived in the Beethoven -family. He was a skillful pianist. Beethoven -considered him one of the teachers to whom -he was most indebted, and was subsequently -instrumental in procuring assistance for him -from Vienna. But we may form some idea of -the nature of his instruction, and of the mode -of living in the family, from the fact, attested by -Beethoven’s neighbors, that it frequently happened -that Pfeiffer, after coming home with -the father late in the night from the tavern, -took young Ludwig out of bed and kept him -at the piano practicing till morning. Yet the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> -success attendant on this instruction was such, -even now, that when the boy, Beethoven and -his teacher, who performed on the flute, played -variations together, the people in the streets -stopped and listened to their delightful music. -In 1781, when Ludwig was ten years old, he -traveled to Holland with his mother, played -in the houses of the great, and astonished -every one by his skill. The profits from this -journey, however, cannot have been very -large. When the boy was questioned about -them, he replied: “The Dutch are a niggardly -set; I shall never visit Holland again.”</p> - -<p>In the meantime, he turned his attention -also to the study of the organ. Under the -guidance of a certain Brother Willibald, of a -neighboring Franciscan monastery, he soon -became so proficient on that instrument, that -he was able to act as assistant organist at divine -service. But his principal teachers here -were the old electoral court organist, van den -Eeden, and afterwards, his successor, Christian -Gottlob Neefe. In what regards composition -the latter was the first to exercise any real influence -on Beethoven, and Beethoven, in after -years, thanked him for the good advice he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> -given him—advice which had contributed so -much to his success in the “divine art.” He -concludes a letter to Neefe as follows: “If -I should turn out some day to be a great man, -you will have contributed to making me such.” -Neefe came originally from Saxony. As an -organist, he had all the characteristics of the -North German artists; but, on the other hand, -he had, as a composer, a leaning towards the sonata-style -introduced by Ph. E. Bach. He was a -man of broad general education, and the form -of his artistic productions was almost faultless. -Such was young Beethoven’s proficiency at the -age of eleven, in 1782, that Neefe was able to -appoint him his “substitute,” and thus to pave -the way for his appointment as court organist. -We owe to him the first published account of -Beethoven, and from that account we learn -that the great foundation of his instruction -was Bach’s “well-tempered clavichord,” that -<i>ne plus ultra</i> of counterpoint and technic. He -first made a reputation in Vienna by his -masterly playing of Bach’s fugues. But the -instruction he had received in composition, -bore fruit also, and some variations to a march -and three sonatas, by him, appeared at this -time in print.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>In the account of Beethoven referred to -above, and which was written in 1783, Neefe -said that that young “genius” was deserving -of support that he might be able to travel, -and that he would certainly be another Mozart. -But the development of his genius soon -took a wider scope. He even, on one occasion, -when Neefe was prevented doing so, presided at -a rehearsal in the Bonn theater, in which the -best pieces of the age were produced. This was -at the age of twelve. And so it happened that -his artistic views and technic skill grew steadily -greater. We are told that when he became -court organist, at the age of thirteen, he -made the very accurate vocalist Heller lose the -key entirely during the performance of divine -service, by his own bold modulations. True, -the Elector forbade such “strokes of genius” -in the future, but he, no less than his <i>capellmeister</i> -Luchesi, was greatly astonished at the -extraordinary capacity of the young man.</p> - -<p>Incidents of this kind may have suggested the -propriety of giving him the instruction appropriate -for a really great master of art; and, indeed, -we find the court organist of Bonn with -Mozart in Vienna, in the spring of 1787.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>Beethoven’s appearance was not what would -be called imposing. He was small of stature, -muscular and awkward, with a short snub -nose. When he was introduced to Mozart, -the latter was rather cool in his praise of his -musical performances, considering them pieces -learned by heart simply for purposes of parade. -Beethoven, thereupon requested Mozart -to give him a subject, that he might try his -powers of musical improvisation. Charmed -with the ability displayed in the execution of -the task thus imposed on his young visitor, -Mozart exclaimed: “Mark that young man! -the world will hear of him some day.” -Beethoven, however, received very little instruction -from Mozart, who was so deeply engaged, -just at this time, with the composition -of his <i>Don Giovanni</i>, and so sorely tried by -adverse circumstances, that he played very little -for him, and could give him only a few lessons. -Besides, Beethoven’s mother was now -taken seriously ill, and after a few weeks he -had to return home, where other blows of a -hard fate awaited him. His kind, good mother, -was snatched from him by death, and his -father’s unfortunate weakness for strong drink<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> -obtained such a mastery over him that he was -deprived of his position shortly after. The -duty of supporting his two younger brothers -was thus imposed on Ludwig, the eldest.</p> - -<p>Young Beethoven was thus taught many a -severe lesson early in life, in the hard school -of adversity. But his trials were not without -advantage to him. They gave to his character -that iron texture which upheld him under -the heaviest burthens, nor was his recall to -Bonn a misfortune. He there found the very -advantages which he had gone to seek in the -musical metropolis, Vienna; for Maximilian -Francis, Elector of Cologne, the friend and -patron of Mozart, was one of the noble princes -of the preceding century, who made their -courts the sanctuary of culture and of art.</p> - -<p>Maximilian was the youngest son of Maria -Theresa. He had received the careful training, -for which that imperial house was noted, -and he found in Joseph II an example in -every way worthy of imitation. He was as -faithful to his calling as an ecclesiastic as to -his duties as a ruler, and as adverse to what -he looked upon as superstition in the garb of -Christianity, as to the extravagance of his predecessors,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span> -who had left the country in a state -of corruption and destitution. He everywhere -endeavored to bring order out of chaos -and to spread prosperity among his people. -A pure, fresh atmosphere filled the little court -as long as he presided in it. He was still -young, not much over thirty, and a man of -the truest principles. Speaking of him as -“that most humane and best of princes,” a -contemporary writer says: “People had grown -accustomed to think of Cologne as a land of -darkness, but when they came to the Elector’s -court, they quickly changed their mind.” -The members of the orchestra of the court -especially, among whom our young court organist -is to be reckoned, were, we are told, -very intelligent, right thinking men, of elegant -manners and unexceptionable conduct.</p> - -<p>The Elector had opened the University in -1776, and established a public reading-room, -which he visited with no more ostentation -than any one else. “All these institutions, as -I looked upon it, had sworn allegiance to an -unknown genius of humanity, and, for the -first time in my life, my mind had a glimmer -of the meaning and majesty of science,” writes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> -the painter, Gerhard Kuegelgen, and how could -Beethoven have thought differently? He had, -it is true, devoted himself so exclusively to -music that he had made very little progress in -anything else. In the use of figures he always -found great difficulty, and his spelling was -worse than could be easily tolerated even in -his own day, when orthography was a rather -rare accomplishment. He had studied a little -French and Latin. But the breezes of a higher -intellectual culture which, at this time, swept -through Bonn and influenced him likewise -through his intimate intercourse with the most -highly cultivated people of the city, soon lifted -him to heights unattained by other artists -and musicians of his century—heights from -which he continually discerned new fields of -action. As a consequence of this intercourse -with the learned, he acquired intellectual tastes -in various directions, and so seriously occupied -himself with things intellectual that they became -a necessity to his nature. He tells us -himself that, without laying the least claim to -real learning, it had been his endeavor from -childhood to acquaint himself with what was -best and wisest in every age. But these intellectual<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> -leanings did not prevent him from being, -as the painter Kuegelgen said of himself, -lovingly devoted to his art. And his own -beloved art of music was, at this very time, cultivated -in Bonn with a greater earnestness and -devotion than any other.</p> - -<p>The writer referred to above, speaking of -the Elector, says: “Not only did he play himself, -but he was an enthusiastic lover of music. -It seemed as if he could never tire of hearing -it. Whenever he went to a concert, he was -the most attentive person in the whole audience.” -And no wonder; for the musical instruction -given to the children of Maria -Theresa was excellent. Indeed, the art of music -in Vienna was at that time at its height. -That city was the scene of the labors of Gluck, -Haydn and Mozart. And so there was only -good music to be heard in the “cabinet” at -Bonn. Our Beethoven, now a distinguished -pianist, contributed his share to this; and -we need not be surprised to find him employed -by a prince who knew Mozart and loved him.</p> - -<p>But it was not musicians alone who were -benefited by prince’s patronage. No sooner -did the condition of the country leave him<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> -the necessary leisure, and the state of its -finances afford him the necessary means, than -he turned his best attention to the theater and -the orchestra. As far back as 1784, Maximilian -Francis had organized an orchestra, and -our young court organist took a place in it as -a player of the tenor violin. The violinist, -Ries, and Simrock, a performer on the French -horn, were also members of it. Ries and -Simrock had henceforth much to do with -Mozart. The following year, a troupe visited -Bonn, and gave Italian operas, French vaudevilles, -as well as Gluck’s <i>Alceste and Orpheus</i>. -They were followed by Grossmann, a person -of rare intellect, and one who holds a distinguished -place in the history of German -dramatic art. His repertory included the -plays of Shakespeare, Lessing, Schiller and -Goethe, with all of whom Beethoven thus became -acquainted early in life. In 1788, Maximilian -Francis established a national theater, -and, dating from this, dramatic poetry and -music began to flourish in Bonn, so that it -took its place, in this respect, side by side with -Mannheim, Vienna and Weimar, and became -a school well calculated to foster the great<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> -abilities of Beethoven. In the orchestra we -find such men as Andreas, Bernhard Romberg -and Anton Reicher, afterwards so celebrated as -a writer on the theory of music. The latter -was, at this time, Beethoven’s most intimate -friend and companion in art. Actors, too, come -upon the stage, many of whom subsequently -filled all Germany with their fame. Dramatic -works of every description appeared. There was -Martin’s <i>Tree of Diana</i>, Mozart’s <i>Elopement -from the Seraglio</i>, Salieri’s <i>Grotto of Trophonius</i>, -Dittersdorf’s <i>Doctor and Apothecary</i>, -and <i>Little Red Riding Hood</i>, Gluck’s <i>Pilgrim -of Mecca</i>, besides Paisiello’s <i>King Theodore</i>, -and greatest of all, <i>Don Giovanni</i>. The music -“pleased connoisseurs;” and <i>Figaro’s Marriage</i> -greatly charmed both singers and the members -of the orchestra, who vied with one another -to do justice to that beautiful opera. -“The strength of our theater,” says a writer -of the time, characteristically and simply, -“lay in our opera.”</p> - -<p>This continual contemplation of “characters -in tone” played a decided part in the -development of an artist who was destined to -infuse into instrumental music so much of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> -poetical and even of dramatic life. We are -informed that Beethoven’s power of delineating -character in the language of music was so -great, even at this time, that when improvising, -which he was very fond of doing, he was -frequently asked “to describe the character of -some well-known person.” One distinguishing -peculiarity of the Bonn orchestra had a -marked influence in the development of the -great symphonist of the future, Beethoven. -We refer to what has been called “the accurate -observation of musical light and shade, or -of the <i>forte</i> and <i>piano</i>.” This musical peculiarity -was introduced into the Bonn orchestra -by a former <i>capellmeister</i>, Mattioli, “a man -full of fire and refined feeling,” who had -learned orchestral accentuation and declamation -from Gluck, and whose musical enthusiasm -caused him to be considered the superior -of Cannabich of Mannheim, who played such -a part in Mozart’s life, and who had originated -this mode of musical delivery in Germany. -He was succeeded by Joseph Reicha, under -whose energetic leadership the Bonn orchestra -reached its highest point of perfection. In -the autumn of 1791, we find that entire orchestra<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span> -in Mergentheim, the seat of the German -order of which Maximilian Francis was -Grand Master; and we have an account of it -from Mergentheim which gives us a very clear -idea of Beethoven’s life as a student.</p> - -<p>Our informant tells us, in the first place, -that he was very much impressed by an octet -of wind instruments. All eight players were, -he says, masters who had reached a high degree -of truth and perfection, especially in the -sustaining of tones. Does not this remind one -of Beethoven’s exquisite septet op. 20? How -Ries infused life and spirit into all by his sure -and vigorous bowing in the orchestra! What -once could be heard only in Mannheim, we -are told, was now heard here—the close observance -of the <i>piano</i> and the <i>forte</i> and the -<i>rinforzando</i>, the swell and gradual growth of -tone, followed by the dropping of the same -from the utmost intensity to the merest breath. -Bernhard Romberg’s playing is lauded for -“perfection of expression and its fine shades -of feeling which appeal to the heart;” his -cousin Andreas’s for “taste in delivery,” and -the true art of his “musical painting.” Can -we wonder that Beethoven’s emulation of, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> -struggling for the mastery with such men -contributed constantly to develop his genius? -He is praised for the peculiar expression of -his playing, and above all for the speaking, -significant, expressive character of his fancy. -Our informant says, in closing his account: “I -found him wanting in nothing which goes to -make the great artist. All the superior performers -of this orchestra are his admirers. -They are all ears when he plays, but the man -himself is exceedingly modest and without -pretension of any kind.”</p> - -<p>We have now seen what was Beethoven’s -technical training both by practice and example, -on the organ and the piano, in the theater -and the orchestra, and how all these were -to him a school of musical composition; for -the Bonn orchestra was as conversant with -Mozart and Haydn as we of to-day are with -Beethoven. How thoroughly he comprehended -and appreciated Mozart especially, is attested -by what he once said to John Cramer, -the only piano player to whom Beethoven himself -applied terms of high praise. The two -were walking, in 1799, in the park in Vienna, -listening to Mozart’s concert in C minor.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> -“Cramer! Cramer!” Beethoven exclaimed, -when he heard the simple and beautiful theme -near the close: “We shall never be able to accomplish -anything like that.” “What a modest -man!” was the reply. This leads us to -say something of the few beautiful, purely -human gifts which were the fruit Beethoven -enjoyed through life, of his youth in Bonn.</p> - -<p>In Bonn, lived Madame von Breuning, with -her four children, who were only a little -younger than our court organist. Beethoven -and one of the sons, Stephan, received instruction -in music from Ries, and were thus thrown -together. But it was not long before our -young artist himself was called upon to teach -the piano in the family of Madame von -Breuning. How lonely Beethoven felt after his -good mother had succumbed to her many sufferings -and sorrows, we learn from the first -letter of his that has come down to us. We -there read: “She was so good and amiable a -mother to me! She was my best friend. O, -who was happier than I while I could yet -pronounce the sweet name of mother! There -was once some one to hear me when I said -‘mother!’ But to whom can I address that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> -name now? Only to the silent pictures of -her which my fancy paints.” But Madame -von Breuning became a second mother to him; -and what her home was, we are informed by -Doctor Wegeler, afterwards husband of -Madame von Breuning’s daughter Eleonore, -for a time one of Beethoven’s pupils. He -writes: “Her home was pervaded by an -atmosphere of unconstrained refinement, spite -of an occasional outburst of the petulance of -youth. The boy, Christoph, took very early -to the writing of little poems. Stephan did the -same thing at a much later date, and successfully. -The useful and agreeable were found combined -in the little social entertainments of -family friends. It was not long before -Beethoven was treated as one of the children. -He spent the greater part of the day in Madame -Bruening’s home, and not unfrequently, the -night. He felt at home in the family, and everything -about him contributed to cheer him and -to develop his mind.” When it is known, on -the authority of the same Doctor Wegeler, -that it was at Madame von Breuning’s home -that Beethoven first became acquainted with -German literature, that there he received his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> -first lessons in social etiquette, it is easy to estimate -the value to him of the friendship of -the Breuning family—a friendship which was -never interrupted for a moment during his -long life.</p> - -<p>It was while in the enjoyment of this intercourse -with the Breuning family that he felt -the first, charming intimations of the tender -passion. Wegeler makes mention of two -young ladies, one of whom, a pretty, cheerful -and lively blonde, Jeannette d’Honrath, of -Cologne, was a frequent visitor at the Breuning’s. -She took delight in teasing our young -musician, and playfully addressed him, singing:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first">“Mich heute noch von dir zu trennen,</div> -<div class="verse">Und dieses nicht verhindern koennen,</div> -<div class="verse">Ist zu empfendlich für mein Herz!”<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></div> -</div></div> - -<p>His favored rival in Jeannette’s affections -was a captain in the Austrian army, by the -name of Greth. His name occurs, in 1823, -in the written conversations of our deaf master. -He was just as much taken with the -sweet and beautiful Miss W. (Westherhold),<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span> -but to no purpose. He called his love for her -a “young Werther’s love,” and, many years -after, he told B. Romberg a great many anecdotes -about it. What he thought of his acquaintance -with the Breuning family and -these two young persons may be inferred from -the words in which he dedicated the variations -<i>Se vuol ballare</i>, to his friend Lorchen (Eleonore -Breuning) in 1793: “May this work,” -he says, “serve to recall the time when I -spent so many and such happy hours in your -home.”</p> - -<p>Besides the home of the Breunings, in which -Beethoven was always so welcome, we may -mention another—that of Count Waldstein, to -whom the sonata op. 23 is dedicated. The -count was very friendly to Beethoven. He -was aware of his genius, and, on that account, -afforded him pecuniary assistance. Yet, to -spare the artist’s feelings, this assistance was -made to have the appearance of coming from -the Elector. It may be that it was this same -amiable and art-loving young Austrian who endeavored -to keep Beethoven’s eye fixed on the -one place in the world in which he could receive -the final touch to his musical education,—Vienna.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span> -The very multitude of Beethoven’s -ideas, and the height to which his intellect -had soared, showed him that he was far from -having reached perfection in the artistic representation -of those ideas. His readiness of execution -and his wonderful power of improvisation, -even now, assured him victory wherever he -went. But the small number of compositions -which he wrote at this time, in Bonn, is sufficient -proof that he did not feel sure of himself -as a composer. And yet he had now reached -an age at which Mozart was celebrated as a -composer of operas.</p> - -<p>In March, 1790, Haydn, on his journey to -London, passed through Bonn, and was presented -to the orchestra by Maximilian Francis, -in person. He returned in the summer of -1792, and as Mozart had died in the meantime, -nothing was more natural than that -Beethoven should apply to the greatest living -musician for instruction. The Elector assisted -him; and we may divine how the young musician’s -heart must have swelled, now that he -had entered the real wrestling-place in his -art, from what, as we stated before, he said to -his teacher Neefe: “If I ever become a great<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span> -man,” etc. But what was there that is not -expected from such a person? Waldstein -expressed the “realization of his long contested -wishes” by writing in Beethoven’s -album: “By uninterrupted industry, thou -wilt acquire the mind of Mozart from the -hands of Haydn.” When the wars of the -Revolution swept over the boundaries of -France, the excitement produced was great -and universal. Beethoven was affected only -by its ideal side. He was spared the sight of -the grotesque ridiculousness of the <i>sans -culottes</i> and the blood of the guillotine. -After a short journey, in November, 1792, -Vienna afforded him a safe retreat which he -never afterwards left. It was not long before -the French were masters of the Rhine. Maximilian -Francis was obliged to flee, and thus -every prospect of Beethoven’s returning home -was lost.</p> - -<p>It now became imperative that he should -take care of himself. His two brothers were -provided for—Karl was a musician and Johann -an apothecary. They soon followed him -to Vienna, where it was not long before they -renewed the scenes of his home life in Bonn.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> -But his own constant endeavor was to be the -creative artist that, as he became more firmly -convinced every day, he was born to be. His -studies under Haydn, then under Schenk, with -whom the readers of the Life of Mozart are -familiar from his connection with the opera of -the <i>Magic Flute</i>, afterwards under the dry-as-dust -Albrechtsberger, the teacher of counterpoint, -and even under Mozart’s deadly enemy, -Salieri—were earnestly and zealously pursued, -as is evident from what he has left after him. -But even now his mind was too richly developed -and his fancy too lofty to learn anything -except by independent action. Ten of -Beethoven’s works date from the time he lived -in Bonn; but, during his first sojourn in -Vienna, compositions flowed in profusion from -his pen, and we cannot but suppose that the -germs of many of these last were sown during -the period of his virtuosoship in Bonn. We -conclude this chapter with a list of the works -here referred to.</p> - -<p>Besides his first attempts at musical composition -already mentioned, a concerto for the -piano written in 1784, and three quartets for -the piano written in 1785, which were afterwards<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> -made use of in the sonatas op. 2, we -must add, as certainly dating from this period -of Beethoven’s life in Bonn, a ballet by Count -Waldstein (1791), a trio for the piano in E -flat, the eight songs of op. 52, which appeared -in 1805, two arias, one of which occurs in this -op. as Goethe’s <i>Mailied</i>, a part of the Bagatellen -op. 33 which appeared in 1803, the two -preludes op. 39, a minuet published in 1803, -the variations <i>Vieni Amore</i> (1790), a funeral -cantata on the death of Joseph II. (1790), and -one on that of Leopold II. (1792), the last of -which was submitted to Haydn and which he -thought a great deal of—both of these latter -compositions are lost—an allegro and minuet -for two flutes, a rondino for reed instruments -and the string trio op. 3 which appeared in -1796.</p> - -<p>In addition to these, there are, in all probability, -many other compositions which were -completed during Beethoven’s first sojourn in -Vienna, and published at a still later date; the -octet op. 103, after which the quintet op. -4 was patterned before 1797, the serenade op. -8, which contained the germ of his nocturne -op. 42; the Variations op. 66, on <i>Ein Maedchen<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> -oder Weibchen</i>, from the <i>Magic Flute</i> -(published in 1798); the variations on <i>God -Save the King</i>, the Romance for the violin, both -of which appeared in 1805, when Beethoven’s -brother secretly published much of his music; -the variation on <i>Se vuol ballare</i> from Mozart’s -<i>Figaro</i>; the <i>Es War Einmal</i> from Dittersdroff’s -<i>Little Red Riding Hood</i>, the “See He -Comes,” the Messias, and a theme by Count -Waldstein (appeared 1793, 1797), the <i>Easy -Sonata</i> in C major, dedicated to Eleonore von -Breuning; the prelude in F minor (appeared -in 1805), and the sextet for wind instruments, -op. 71, which appeared in 1810.</p> - -<p>In his twenty-third year, Mozart could point -to three hundred works which he had composed, -among them the poetical sonatas of his -youth. How little of sunshine and leisure -must there have been in a life which, spite of -its extraordinary intellectual wealth and activity, -reaped so little fruit! And even if we -fix the date when the three trios op. 1, were -composed in this period, when Beethoven was -for the first time taught the meaning of the -world and history, by the stormy movements -of the last decade of the last century; and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> -admit that the two concertos for the piano -(op. 19 and op. 15) owe their origin to the -wonderful fantasias with which he charmed -the hearts and minds of the people of Bonn -at that time, yet how little did he achieve! -This fact is the most convincing proof of the -truth of Beethoven’s own assertion, that fortune -did not favor him in Bonn. Leaving -his musical training out of consideration, -Beethoven’s youth was not a very happy one. -Seldom was it brightened for any length of -time by the smiles of joy.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II.</h2> - -<p class="ph1">1795-1806.</p> - -<p class="ph1">THE EROICA AND FIDELIO.</p> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<div class="hangingindent"> -<p>Music in Vienna—Society in Vienna—Beethoven’s Dedications—Lichnowsky—The -Eroica and Fidelio—Beethoven’s First -Great Exploits—Plans for Future Work—Decides to Remove -to the North—New Compositions—His Improvisations—Disappointment -in North Germany—Prince Louis -Ferdinand—Makes His Home in Austria—Neglects His -Health—His Deafness—Origin of the Eroica—Napoleon I—Bernadotte—The -Symphony in C Minor—His Deafness -Again—Thoughts of Marriage—The Guicciardi Family—Meaning -of His Music—His “Will”—Disappointment—Meaning -of the Eroica and Fidelio—The Lenore Overture—Other -Compositions.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> golden age of music in Vienna had not -passed away when Beethoven came to that -city. Not the court, but the wealthy nobility, -and a great many circles of the cultured found -in music the very soul of their intellectual life -and of a nobler existence. A consequence of -this was that more attention was paid to chamber -music than any other; and we accordingly -find that the greater number of Beethoven’s -compositions, written at this period, are of that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> -style of music. Their very dedications tell us -much of the social circles of Vienna, and of -the persons who graced them.</p> - -<p>First of all, we have the three trios op. 1, -dedicated to Prince Karl von Lichnowsky. -The man who had been the pupil and friend -of Mozart might be glad, indeed, to see a substitute -found so soon for that departed genius. -A quartet consisting of the able artists -Schuppanzigh, Sina, Weiss and Kraft, played -at his house every Friday. Dr. Wegeler informs -us that Beethoven, in 1794, lived with -the Prince, who, at a later date, paid him a -salary of twelve hundred marks. The variations -on <i>Seht er Kommt</i>, (See he comes) 1797, -were dedicated to his consort, the Princess -Christiane, <i>nee</i> Thun. She prized Beethoven -very highly, and, as he once said of her himself, -would have liked to encase him in glass, -that he might be screened from the defiling -breath and touch of the unworthy. The first -three sonatas op. 2 are dedicated to J. Haydn, -and they introduce us to his special patron, -the Prince Esterhazy, with whom Beethoven -was not very intimate, although the commission -to write the mass op. 86 was given by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> -Nicholas Esterhazy. The quartet op. 4, as -well as the sonatas for violin, op. 23 and 24 -(1800), and the string quintet op. 29 (1801), -are dedicated to Count Fries. There is much -in Beethoven’s life to show that he was on -terms of close friendship with this rich “merchant.” -The sonata op. 7 (1797), is dedicated -to Countess Keglevics. The first concerto, -which was finished in 1794, is dedicated to the -same person, then known as Princess Odescalchi. -The trios op. 9, as well as the brilliant -sonata op. 22, belong, by right of dedication, -to the Russian Count Browne, whom Beethoven -himself called <i>le premier Mecene de sa muse</i>, -and the sonatas op. 10 (1798), to his consort. -To the Countess von Thun, he dedicated the -trio op. 11, composed the same year, and the -sonatas op. 12, to Salieri, one of his teachers -in Vienna.</p> - -<p>How highly Beethoven esteemed Lichnowsky -is evidenced by the dedication to him of -op. 14, the <i>Pathetique</i> (1799). In it we -find the earliest expression of Beethoven’s -view of music as a voice speaking to man’s -innermost nature, calling to him to live a -higher life. To Lichnowsky, likewise, was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> -dedicated the sonata op. 26 with the beautiful -funeral march (1802). The two lovely sonatas -op. 14 of the year 1799, as well as the sonata -for the horn, op. 17 (1800), are dedicated to -the Countess Braun, whose husband gave -Beethoven, some years after, the commission -for the <i>Fidelio</i>; and the quintet op. 16 which -was finished in 1797 to Prince Schwarzenberg. -When we connect the name of Prince -Lobkowitz with the first quartets op. 18, composed -in 1797-1800; that of Baron von -Swieten the lover of the well-tempered clavichord -with the first symphony op. 21 (1800), -that of the learned von Sonnenfels with the so-called -pastoral sonata op. 28 (1801), we can see -the force of the remark made by J. F. -Reichart, that the Austrian nobility of this -period loved and appreciated music better probably -than any other in the history of the -world. That they did not continue to do so -is due entirely to the fact of the general disturbance -of their pecuniary circumstances consequent -on the wars which came to an end -only in 1815, and which diminished their favorable -influence on the cultivation of the art of -music. But our artist had all the advantages<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> -of this noble patronage. He spared no pains -nor sacrifice to profit by it. But his mind -could not rest in the mere enjoyment of -music. It sought other and higher spheres. -His art was destined to absorb into itself the -whole world of culture, to take an active part -in the march of history and co-operate in giving -expression to the ideas of life. The first -real exploits of our artist were the <i>Eroica</i> and -the <i>Fidelio</i> with the Leonore overture; but -the path which led to them was one on which -those immediately surrounding him could not -very well follow him, and one which subsequently -isolated him personally more and more -from his fellow men.</p> - -<p>It was an ill-defined longing for this starry -path of a higher intellectual existence which -brought him to the north of Germany, to -Berlin, after he had finished the principal -parts of the course in music under Haydn, -Schenk and Albrechtsberger. Not that he -did not meet with recognition and remuneration -in his new home. But, after all, the -recognition and remuneration he met with -there were such as a virtuoso might expect. -For the present, neither the public nor music<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span> -publishers would have much to do with his -compositions. Writing to Schiller’s wife, the -young Bonn professor, Fischenich, says of -him: “So far as my acquaintance with him -goes, he is made for the great and the sublime. -Haydn has said that he would give him great -operas, and soon be compelled himself to stop -composing.” He informs her, at the same -time, that Beethoven was going to set her husband’s -Hymn to Joy—<i>Freude schoener Goetterfunken</i>—to -music. We thus see that he, even -now, harbored those great ideas which engaged -him at the close of his labors, in the composition -of the Ninth Symphony. There were as -yet but few traces to be found in Vienna of -the intellectual awakening to which Germany -is indebted for its earliest classical literature, -and the period of its great thinkers in the west -and the north. On the other hand, Beethoven’s -own mind was too full of the “storm and -stress” to be able to appreciate the beautiful -harmony and the warmth which had made -such phenomena as Haydn and Mozart possible -in South-German Austria. But in the -North, the memory of “old Fritz” still lived; -there the stern rule of mind and conscience,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> -generated by Protestantism, still prevailed, -while the firm frame-work of his own art, the -counterpoint of the great Bach, the “first -father of harmony,” as he calls him himself, -was there preserved, apparently, in its full -strength. In addition to all this, the court -there was fond of music, and King Frederick -William II had endeavored to keep Mozart, -the greatest master of his time, in Berlin; -while Beethoven, since the Elector’s flight -from Bonn, had no further prospects in his -home on the Rhine. He, therefore, decided -to remove to the North.</p> - -<p>We find him on his journey thither at the -beginning of 1796. “My music secures me -friends and regard—what more do I want?” -he writes from Prague to his brother Johann, -who, in the meantime, had entered into the -employment of an apothecary in Vienna. He -here composed the aria <i>Ah Perfido</i> (op. 65). -On his way to Berlin he passed through -Dresden and Leipzig, but of his stay in these -two cities, we have no information. The king -received him very graciously; he played a -few times at court and composed the sonatas -for cello, op. 5, because the king himself played<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> -the violincello. The very first impression received -by Beethoven seems to have been decisive. -K. Czerny, to whom he taught the -piano, tells us something from his own recollection -and observation about him, which is -very characteristic of the man, and shows how -sorely disappointed he felt in his most ardent -expectations in Berlin. He says: “His improvisation -was very brilliant, astonishing in -the highest degree.... No matter in what -society he was thrown, he made such an impression -on all his hearers that it frequently -happened that not a dry eye was to be seen, -while many broke into sobs. There was something -wonderful in his expression, besides the -beauty and originality of his ideas, and the -highly intellectual way he had of presenting -them. When he had finished an improvisation -of this kind he could break out into a fit -of loud laughter and ridicule his hearers on the -emotions he had excited. At times he even felt -injured by those signs of sympathy. ‘Who,’ -he asked, ‘can live among such spoiled children?’ -and for that reason alone he once declined -an invitation extended to him by the -king of Prussia, after an improvisation of this -kind.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>Beethoven was doomed to a disappointment -of a very peculiar kind here. Instead of the -manliness of character which he, coming from -the softer South, expected to find in the North, -he was confronted with a voluptuous luxury -to which his art was only a handmaid, and -with an apparent surfeit of music, the natural -outgrowth of the French influence due to Voltaire’s -residence in Berlin. Such was not the -spirit of the new era which animated himself, -and for the operation of which he was seeking a -proper theater of action. The king himself -did all in his power to make Gluck and -Mozart settle in Berlin, and Handel’s oratorios -were played even at the court concerts. But -how could a man like Beethoven have worked -side by side with the ruling leaders in music—with -a Himmel and a Rhigini? The only person -in Berlin who seemed to Beethoven a man, -in the full sense of the word, was Prince Louis -Ferdinand. With genuine frankness, he remarked -of the prince’s playing that “it was -not kingly or princely, but only that of a good -piano player.” But it is probable that from -the prince he borrowed the chivalric and, at -the same time, poetico-enthusiastic character<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> -found in his third concerto (op. 37), which was -finished in 1800 and dedicated to the prince, -“the most human of human beings.”</p> - -<p>He played twice in the Singing Academy -before its conductor, Fasch, and his successor, -Zelter, Goethe’s well-known friend, when he -again brought the tears to the eyes of his -hearers. But he clearly saw from the example -of these two principal representatives of -the more serious taste for music in Berlin, that -it was not Bach’s spirit which he was in search -of that ruled there, but only a caricature of -it; and this last was by no means a counterpoise -to the Italian style of music, which still -held absolute sway. He returned to Vienna -disappointed in every respect, but with all the -greater confidence in himself. He never again -left Austria for good. It became the scene of -his grandest achievements, and it was not long -before their history began.</p> - -<p>In a small memorandum book used by -Beethoven on his journey from Bonn to -Vienna, we find the following passage: “Take -courage. Spite of all physical weakness, my -mind shall rule. I have reached my twenty-fifth -year, and must now be all that I can be.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> -Nothing must be left undone.” The father -always represented Beethoven to be younger -than he really was. Even in 1810, the son -would not admit that he was forty years of age. -The words quoted above must, therefore, have -been written in the winter of 1796 or 1797; -and this fact invests them with a greater significance -than they would otherwise possess; -for our artist now saw that, without the shadow -of a doubt, Austria and Vienna were to be his -abiding places; and he, therefore, strained -every nerve, regardless of what the consequences -might be, “to be a great man sometime;” -that is, to accomplish something really good in -music. This regardlessness of consequences -manifested itself especially in the little care he -seemed to take of his physical well-being. A -friend, who had every opportunity to observe -him, Baron von Zmeskall, informs us that -“in the summer of 1796, he came home -almost overpowered by the heat, tore open the -doors and windows of the house, took off his -coat and vest and seated himself at an open -window to cool himself. The consequence of -his imprudence was a dangerous illness, which -ultimately settled on the organs of hearing.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> -From this time his deafness kept on increasing.” -It is possible that the first symptoms -of his deafness did not appear as early as -1796; but certain it is, that it dates back into -the last decade of the last century, that it was -brought about by heedlessness of his health, and -that it became a severe tax on his moral courage. -His genius was so absorbed in his music, -that he too frequently forgot to take care of the -physical man. In November, 1796, Stephan -von Breuning remarked of him, that “his -travels had contributed to mature his character; -that he was a better judge of men, and -had learned to appreciate the value, but, at the -same time, the rarity of good friends.” The -hard trials of life had added to the earnestness -of his disposition, and he was awakening to a -full sense of what his own duty in this world -was. This leads us to the first great and memorable -work of his genius—to the <i>Eroica</i>, followed -soon after by the symphony in C minor.</p> - -<p>When, in the year 1806, one of his friends -informed Beethoven of Napoleon’s victory at -Jena, he exclaimed: “It’s a pity that I do not -understand the art of war as well as I do the -art of music. If I did I certainly would conquer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> -him.” These words express a rivalry -almost personal in its nature, and could have -been spoken only by a fool or by a man of -power not unlike that of Napoleon himself. -And, indeed, leaving out of consideration men -of genius like Goethe and Schiller, whose -fame had been long established on a firm -foundation, there were among his contemporaries -men of sovereign ambition, only one -person, Napoleon Bonaparte, able to make any -great impression on a man who had chosen -for his motto: “Power is the moral code of -men who distinguish themselves above others; -and it is mine, too.” A series of the most -brilliant victories was achieved up to 1798 by -the General of the glorious French Republic, -who was of the same age as Beethoven. General -Bernadotte, whose descendants occupy the -throne of Sweden in our day, had participated -in those victories. Bernadotte was the French -Ambassador to Vienna in the beginning of -1798. He was young; by his origin he belonged -to the middle class; he was the representative -of the Republic, and could, therefore, indulge, -unconstrained, in personal intercourse -with whomsoever he pleased.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>The celebrated violinist, Rudolph Kreutzer, -to whom Beethoven’s <i>Kreutzer Sonata</i> (op. -47) is dedicated, was one of his retinue. It -was very natural that once Bernadotte and -Kreutzer became acquainted with Beethoven, -their intercourse with him and their friendship -for him, should have been more than -usually intimate. Bernadotte, who was sincerely -devoted to Napoleon, and who must -have felt himself drawn still more closely to -Beethoven, because of his enthusiasm for the -general, suggested to him the idea of celebrating -the exploits of his hero by a symphony. -Beethoven so informed his amanuensis, Schindler, -in 1823, and his account is corroborated -by other facts, that such was the first impulse -to the composition of the <i>Eroica</i>.</p> - -<p>But the advocate of power was destined soon -to swell to the proportions of the hero of intellectual -courage. “For thus does fate knock -at the gates.” Beethoven used these words in -1823, in speaking “with uncontrollable enthusiasm” -of that wonderful <i>motive</i> at the -opening of the symphony in C minor. The -last movement of the work, the fanfare-like -<i>finale</i>, so expressive of the joy of victory,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> -shows that he here described a victory indeed, -the surmounting of the obstacles and darkness -of life, even if those obstacles and that darkness -consisted only of “the infirmities of the -body.” The sketches of this movement, however, -occur in the draft of the quartet op. 18, -and hence must have been noted down before -the year 1800! But the fact that the melody -of the <i>adagio</i> was also found in that sketch -shows that he was even then as certain of -mastering sorrow, as he was conscious of the -presence of the “demon in his ears,” and of -the sad prospect of a “wretched” and lonely -future—a prospect which stirred him to the -very depths of his soul.</p> - -<p>But it was years before these <i>motives</i> took -shape in his mind. To do justice to the great -ideas to which they give expression, to the -heroic victory of power and will over whatever -opposes them, he had to concentrate and -strengthen all his powers of mind and heart, -and to develop his talents by long exercise. -The portraiture of the struggles and of the -artistic creations of the next succeeding years -constitutes the transition to those first great -heroic deeds—a transition which must be understood<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> -by all who would understand Beethoven’s -music.</p> - -<p>The Napoleonic way in which Beethoven, -at the close of the last century, outgeneraled -all the most celebrated virtuosos of the time in -Vienna and in Europe, is attested by his triumph -over the renowned pianist Woelffl, in -1799, and his defeat of Steibelt, in 1800. But -he did still more towards achieving success by -his works. His numerous variations won over -to him many a fair player of the piano, while -his <i>Adelaide</i>, which appeared in 1797, gained -for him the hearts of all persons of fine feeling; -so that Wegeler may have told the simple -truth, when he wrote: “Beethoven was never, -at least so long as I lived in Vienna (1794-96), -without a love affair; and he occasionally made -a conquest which it would have been very hard, -if not impossible, for many a handsome Adonis -to have made.” The “ugly,” pock-marked -man, with the piercing eyes, was possessed -of a power and beauty more attractive than -any mere physical charms. And then, there -was the charm of his sonatas: op. 7, with the -funeral song in <i>adagio</i>, which he is said to -have written in a tempest of “passionate feeling”;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> -of op. 10, with its genuine masculine -profile; of the revolutionary sonata in C minor, -with the mysterious struggle in the <i>allegretto</i> -in No. II., and the brilliant exultation of victory -in the <i>allegro</i> in No. III., the tragic song of -the <i>largo</i>, the gentle grace of the minuet—here -used exceptionally in the place of the <i>scherzo</i>, -as we find it already in op. 1; and, last of all, -the droll question of little Snub Nose, in the -<i>finale</i>. And yet these were followed by the -<i>Pathetique</i>, with its exquisite and enrapturing -<i>adagio</i>, and the two beautiful love songs, op. -14; by the six quartets, op. 18, in which he -offered to a society of friends of his art, true -songs of the soul and pictures of life overflowing; -by the <i>adagio</i> of No. I, another Romeo-and-Juliet -grave scene; by the <i>adagio</i> of No. -VI., descriptive of the melancholy which, even -now, began to gather its dark clouds about -Beethoven himself, whose breast was so well -attuned to joy. The descriptive septet (op. -20, 1800,) and the first symphony (op. 21), -sketched after the style of Haydn, but painted -with Mozart’s pencil, are the last scenes in -what we may call Beethoven’s older life, which -closed with the eighteenth century. The beginning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> -of the nineteenth opened a new world -to our artist.</p> - -<p>The new world thus opened to Beethoven, -and the manner in which he himself conceived -it, may be best described in Schiller’s magnificent -verses:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first">“Wie schön, O Mensch, mit deinem Palmenzweige</div> -<div class="verse">Stehst du an des Jahrhunderts Neige,</div> -<div class="verse">In edler stolzer Männlichkeit!</div> -<div class="verse">Mit aufgeschlossnem Sinn, mit Geistesfülle,</div> -<div class="verse">Voll milden Ernsts, in thatenreicher Stille,</div> -<div class="verse">Der reifste Sohn der Zeit.</div> -<div class="verse">Frei durch Vernunft, stark durch Gesetze,</div> -<div class="verse">Durch Sanftmuth gross und reich durch Schätze,</div> -<div class="verse">Die lange Zeit dein Busen dir verschwieg.”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>And now began for Beethoven a period of -severe trials, brought upon him by himself. -Absorbed in work, he neglected to take sufficient -care of his physical health. His trouble -with his hearing was increasing, but he paid no -attention to it. His carelessness in this regard -reduced him to a condition in which he -would have found no alleviation and no joy, -were it not for the inexhaustible resources he -possessed within himself.</p> - -<p>But to understand him fully, we must read -what he wrote himself, in June, 1801, to the -“best of human kind,” his friend Amenda, in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> -Kurland, who had left Vienna two years before. -He says:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Your own dear Beethoven is very unhappy. He -is in conflict with nature and with God. Many and -many a time have I cursed Him because He has made -His creatures the victims of the smallest accidents in -nature, and this to such an extent that what promises -to be best and most beautiful in life, is destroyed. -You must know that what was most precious to me, -my hearing, has been, in great part, lost. How sad -my life is! All that was dear to me, all that I loved -is gone! How happy would I now be, if I could only -hear as I used to hear! If I could, I would fly to -thee; but as it is, I must stay away. My best years -will fly, and I shall not have fulfilled the promise of -my youth, nor accomplish in my art what I fondly -hoped I would. I must now take refuge in the sadness -of resignation.”</p> -</div> - -<p>We have here the words to the long-drawn -funereal tones of a song as we find it at the -beginning of the celebrated C sharp minor -(<i>Mondschein</i>) sonata op. 27 No. II, which -belongs to this period. The direct incentive -to its composition was Seume’s poem, <i>die Beterin</i> -in which he gives us a description of a -daughter praying for her noble father, who has -been condemned to death. But in this painful -struggle with self, we also hear the storm<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> -of passion, in words as well as in tones. Beethoven’s -life at this time was one of sorrow. -He writes: “I can say that I am living a -miserable life. I have more than once execrated -my existence. But if possible I shall -bid defiance to fate, although there will be, I -know, moments in my life when I shall be -God’s most unhappy creature.” The thunders -of power may be heard in the <i>finale</i> of -that sonata. When it was published, the following -year, its dedication ran: <i>Alla damigella -contessa Giulietta Guicciardi</i>. The -celebrated Giulietta! Her friendship was, -indeed, a cheering ray of sunshine in Beethoven’s -“wretched life” at this time. As he -writes himself in the fall of the year 1801:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“My life is somewhat pleasanter now. I move about -among men more than I used to. I am indebted for -this change for the better to a lovely, charming girl -who loves me and is loved by me. For two years now -I have had once more some moments of happiness, and -for the first time in my life I feel that marriage might -make one happy. Unfortunately, she does not belong -to my social circle. But if I cannot get married at -the present time, I shall have to mix more among -men.”</p> -</div> - -<p>The family of the imperial counsellor,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> -Count Guicciardi, originally from Modena, -was one of the families of the higher class with -whom Beethoven had formed an intimate acquaintance -through his art. Guicciardi’s wife -belonged to the Hungarian family of the -Brunswicks, who were likewise very friendly -to Beethoven. We shall yet have something -to say of the Countess Theresa Brunswick, for -whom and whose sister, the charming Countess -Deym, the variations for four hands on <i>Ich -denke dein</i>, were written in 1800. Countess -Giulietta was in her sixteenth year, and as -good as betrothed to Count Gallenberg, a -musician and composer of ballet music. He -was, however, in such pecuniary straits that -Beethoven had, on one occasion, to come to -his assistance through a friend. The young -girl did not give any serious thought to a -union with the Count, although he belonged -to her own social circle. The attractions of -a genuine love had more charms for her. This -same true, genuine love possessed Beethoven’s -soul. He writes to his friend Wegeler:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“I feel that my youth is only now beginning. Was -I not always a sickly man? But, for a time, my physical -strength has been increasing more than ever before,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> -and the same is true of my mental power. With -every succeeding day I approach nearer to the goal -which I feel, but cannot describe. Thus only can I -live. No rest! I know of no repose but sleep, and it -sorely pains me that I have now to allot more time to -sleep than was once necessary. Let me be only half -freed from my trouble and then, a perfectly mature -man, I shall come to you and renew our old friendship. -You must see me as happy as it is given me to be -here below. You must not see me unhappy; that is -more than I could bear. I shall struggle manfully -with fate, and be sure, it will not overcome me entirely. -O, how beautiful it would be to live life over a -thousand times! But I am not made for a quiet life.”</p> -</div> - -<p>To this, Beethoven’s elasticity of soul, which -lifted him to the height of joy and of intellectual -delight, we are indebted for those works -of his which are models of poetic creation. -What became of the traditional form of the -sonata after Beethoven began to tell in song -the meaning of joy and pain and of their -wonderful admixture, as he did in the sonata -op. 31, No. II, the first movement of which -looks as if thrown off with a single stroke of -the pen? There are the thoughtful questionings -of fate in the opening chord; the -jubilant, tempestuous enjoyment of pleasure; -the expression of woe, more terrible in anticipation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> -than realization, when misery -wrings a cry of pain from him, and he breaks -out in recitative—a form of art never before -coupled with an instrument, but which is here -more eloquent than words. Sorrow, joy and -genius have now transformed the mere -musician into the artist and the poet. Beethoven, -as the master of the intellectual -world of tones, began his career with this -sonata in D minor. From this time forward, -his every piece is a psychological picture -of life. The form of the sonata had now -fully developed the intellectual germ which in -it lay. It is no longer mere form, but a finite -vessel holding an infinite intellectual treasure -as its contents. Even the separate parts of it, -although retained as usual, are henceforth -only phases and stages of the development of -that intellectual treasure. They are acts of a -drama played in the recesses of a human soul—in -the soul of a man who is forced to taste, -while still he laughs in his melancholy, the -tragic contents of the cup of human life during -every moment of his existence. For thus -it was now with Beethoven. The deepest sorrow -endows him with untrammeled serenity<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> -of mind. Darkness becomes to him the parent -of a higher light. A humor that weeps -through its smiles is henceforth his.</p> - -<p>On this sonata followed a symphony with -the real Beethoven flavor, the second symphony -(op. 36). It had its origin in the -“sublime feeling” which “animated” him in -the beautiful summer days of 1802; as had -also the brilliant <i>Kreutzer Sonata</i> (op. 47). -This summer of 1802 is a memorable one in -Beethoven’s life. It brought with it the -severest trials of his courage as a man. These -trials transformed him into a hero, and were -the incentives to the composition of the <i>Eroica</i>. -To this period belongs the so-called “Heiligenstadt -Will,” which discloses to us the inmost -depths of Beethoven’s soul.</p> - -<p>His physician had ordered him in October, -1802, to the village of Heiligenstadt, near -Vienna, in a condition of the utmost hopelessness. -Beethoven thought that death was not -far off, and, anxious to justify himself before -posterity, he wrote from that place: “O, you -men, who think or say that I am malignant, -obstinate or misanthropic, what an injustice -you do me! You know not the secret cause of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> -what you think you see. From childhood up, -my heart and mind have been bent upon the -accomplishment of great deeds; I was ever -moved thereto by the feeling of benevolence. -To accomplish such deeds I was always disposed. -But consider that for six—yes, six -whole years, I have been in a most unfortunate -condition—a condition which has been made -worse by the stupidity of my physicians; that -my hopes, from year to year, of being cured -have been disappointed, and that at last there -lies before me the prospect of permanent ill. -Born with an active and even fiery temperament, -a lover of the distractions of society, I -had to live in a state of isolation from all men. -How humbled I felt when a person standing -near me could hear a flute that was playing in -the distance, while I could hear nothing! -Experiences like this brought me to the very -verge of despair, and I came very near ending -my own life. Art alone held me back. It -seemed to me impossible that I should leave -the world until I had accomplished all for -which I felt myself so well fitted. O God, -thou seest my heart. Thou seest that it harbors -beneficence and love for human kind. O<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> -you men, when you read this, remember that -you have wronged me, and let the unfortunate -rejoice to find one of their number who, spite -of the obstacles put in his way by nature, did -all in his power to be admitted into the ranks -of artists and men worthy of the name.”</p> - -<p>And now, too, we find in his music the -first traces of such appeals to the Godhead. The -text of the six songs of Gellert, op. 48, which -appeared in 1803, are of a religious nature. -But, in the domain of religion, our artist had -not yet risen to his full height. He is still preponderantly -the musician of life, force and of -the brilliant play of the intellect; and his compositions -are still pre-eminently works of art -and of the fancy. The <i>Eroica</i> (op. 55), which -was finished in 1803, possessed these characteristics -in the highest sense of the word. And now -we may understand what he felt himself, as he -said in his “Will,” fitted to accomplish, as -well as the mysterious conversation he had in -1823, with his amanuensis, Schindler, in which -he speaks of this period of his life, and of -Giulietta, who had now long been the Countess -Gallenberg, and who had, a short time before, -returned from Naples, where her husband had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> -acted as director of the theater for years. -The conversation in question begins thus: It -was held in the French language—</p> - -<p>Beethoven—“She was mine before she was -her husband’s or Italy’s, and she paid me a -visit, bathed in tears; but I despised her.”</p> - -<p>Schindler—“By Hercules!”</p> - -<p>Beethoven—“If I had parted in that way -with my strength, as well as my life, what -would have remained to me for nobler and better -things?”</p> - -<p>Beethoven had said of himself that he -had something to do in the world besides marrying. -His ideal was not to live in such -cramped circumstances. He knew of “nobler -and better things.” Yet it seems that he offered -his hand to the “lovely, charming girl” -in this year 1803, when he began to have a -prospect of permanently bettering his condition, -and that Giulietta was not disinclined to -marry him. But family considerations prevented -the decisive step; and she was married -in the fall of the same year to Count Gallenberg. -“Despising” her—whether rightly or -wrongly we have no means of determining, -but we do know that she was not happy—Beethoven<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> -turned to the performance of the -great tasks for which he felt himself fitted.</p> - -<p>Our artist’s life, like that of a thousand -others, thus proves the truth of the old saying: -the course of true love never did run smooth. -In his earlier biographies this episode has been -treated as a great and even tragic event, because -that remarkable letter to his “immortal -love,” of which we shall yet have occasion to -speak, was erroneously supposed to be addressed -to Countess Guicciardi and to refer to -this circumstance in his life. But although -no more than an episode, Beethoven could -here have mastered his feelings only by the -full consciousness he now possessed of the duty -he owed to his genius. As Liszt says, <i>le genie -oblige</i>, and Beethoven felt that it was a duty -genius owed to mankind to sacrifice mere ambition -and even the heartfelt happiness that is -born of love. The day before Guilietta’s -wedding, he wrote to Macco, the painter: -“You paint, and I shall compose music. In -this way, we shall be immortal; yes, perhaps -live forever.” And that our artist had some -right to lay claim to such immortality is -proved not only by his sonatas, which are little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> -poems in themselves, by his songs and quartets, -but by mighty and memorable works which -reflect the world-soul. He was working on -that grand creation, the <i>Eroica</i>. This sacrifice -of his feelings may have been, and most -likely was, forced upon him by the accident -of the uncertainty of his position in life, but -that it was not made without a struggle is -manifest from his expression of contempt for -Giulietta—<i>mais je la méprisais</i> but still more -from the ideal of the value of faithful love -which now became rooted in his soul, and -which we see reflected in the <i>Fidelio</i>, that -immediately followed the <i>Eroica</i>, and which -presents us with the most beautiful of all -female characters. In its composition, we find -united that warmth of heart and that intellectual -in sight so peculiarly Beethoven’s own, and -which he so beautifully embodied in his art. -On the golden background of his enthusiasm -for “nobler and better things,” the sweet face -of Leonore stands out in bold relief as the -perfect type of human beauty.</p> - -<p>Beethoven borrowed the tones of the <i>Eroica</i> -from the elevating nature of humanitarian -ideas transferred to the region of public life.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> -The hero enters, touching with giant hands -the foundations of human existence, which he -wants to ameliorate by renewing them. And, -indeed, the First Consul of the French Republic -might very well suggest to him, at the beginning -of this century, how heroes act, the -jubilation with which nations greet them, -how great existing institutions oppose their -progress, and, finally, overthrow them in their -might. The first movement of the <i>Eroica</i> describes -the most varied events in the life of -such a hero with a fullness of episode almost -destructive of its form. In its climax, the real -work of the hero is seen; the old order of -things is heard crumbling and falling to pieces -in its powerful and terrific syncopations and -dissonant chords, to make place for a new existence, -one more worthy of human beings. -But, at the close of the movement, the victorious -hero exultingly yokes the new order of -things to his chariot. This is history, the -world’s history in tones; and, for its sake, we -may for the moment shroud the dearest longings -of the heart in the dark robes of resignation.</p> - -<p>Beethoven’s fancy as an artist fully comprehended<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> -the genius of liberty, at this time -newly born into the world, and a new factor -in the history of mankind. He understood, -too, the tragic fate of all heroes—that they are -destined, like all other mortals, to fall, and, -though God-commissioned, to die, that their -works may live and prosper. Bonaparte’s -history also suggested the rhythm of the sublime -and solemn step of the funeral march; -for, since the days of Cæsar and Alexander, -no man had stepped as did he through the -spaces of the existing order of things. But -Beethoven’s poetic fancy soared even now far -beyond the reality that surrounded him. As -early as 1802, he wrote to the music dealers in -Leipzig, now so well known as the publishers -of the <i>Edition Peters</i>: “Away with you all, -gentlemen! To propose to me to write such a -sonata! That might have done in the time -when the Revolution was at fever heat, but now -that everything has returned to the old beaten -path, that Bonaparte has concluded a concordat -with the Pope, to write such a sonata—away -with you!” It is not Napoleon, therefore, who -is here interred. It is not Napoleon for whom -mankind weeps in the tones of this funeral<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> -march. It is the ever-living, ever-awakening -hero of humanity, the genius of our race, that -is solemnly borne to the grave to the rhythm of -this wonderful march—a march which has in -it something of the tragic pathos of a Shakespeare -or an Æschylus. Beethoven in this -march became a tragic writer of purely instrumental -music, and gave evidence of that quality -of soul which made him indifferent to “the -slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.”</p> - -<p>The two last movements of the work do not -convey so powerful an idea of heroic action. -Was it that his powers of imagination flagged, -or that the change in Napoleon’s career made -him disgusted with the hero? We know that -when, in the spring of 1804, the copy of the -symphony was finished—the title, proudly -and characteristically enough bearing only -two names, “Buonaparte” at the top and -“Luigi van Beethoven” at the bottom—and -Beethoven heard of Napoleon’s elevation, he -said: “Can it be that he is no more than an -ordinary man? Now he, like others, will -trample all human rights under foot, serve -only his ambition and become a tyrant.” He -tore the title page in two, threw the work on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> -the floor and did not again look at it for a long -time. When it appeared in 1806, it was under -the name of the <i>Sinfonia Eroica</i>, “composed -to celebrate the memory of a great man.” -It was dedicated to Prince Lobkowitz, who -purchased it and caused it to be performed before -Prince Louis Ferdinand, in the fall of -1804. The Prince was so delighted with it -that he had it played three times the same -evening in immediate succession, which was a -very great satisfaction to Beethoven.</p> - -<p>There is a oneness of spirit in this instrumental -fresco painting of a hero who strives -and suffers for the sake of what is most precious -to man, and in Beethoven’s only opera, the -<i>Fidelio</i>, which made the latter the natural -successor of the <i>Eroica</i>. Florestan dared -“boldly to tell the truth,” and this, his entering -the lists for right and freedom, incites his -faithful wife, Leonore, to a truly heroic deed. -Disguised in male attire, she enters the prison, -and, just in the nick of time, casts herself between -her beloved husband and his murderer. -Her cry—which has in it much of the heroism -of death—“kill first his wife,” is a bit of -history showing the enthusiasm of the ideally<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span> -great, as it is also the most intense dramatic -representation, in tones, of the full energy of a -woman’s love.</p> - -<p>In a letter to Amenda, in 1801, he wrote: -“I have composed music of every description, -except operas and church music.” But even, -a short time before this, he had something to -do with the theater. He had written the ballet -<i>Prometheus</i>, which represents in a sense, the -history of the creation of man in choreographic -pictures. The success of this work -determined Schikaneder, well known to the -readers of the life of Mozart, and who, at this -time, had the direction of the newly-built -theater in Vienna, to engage Beethoven at a -large annual stipend. When this man, Schikaneder, -in the same spring of 1803, saw that -the oratorio <i>Christus am Oelberge</i> (Christ on -the Mount of Olives) met with good success, -although more theatrical than spiritual in its -character, he commissioned him to write an -opera also. The subject was, probably, <i>Alexander</i>—a -very suitable one, considering Beethoven’s -own heroic style, and his feeling at -the time. But nothing came of it. There -can be no doubt, however, that a piece which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> -he had sketched and intended to make a part -of it, the duet, <i>O Namenlose Freude</i> (O -Nameless Joy), was afterwards embodied in the -<i>Fidelio</i>. Beethoven had received a commission -to write the latter from Baron von Braun, who -had taken charge of the theater in Vienna, in -the year 1804.</p> - -<p>At this time, both the Abbe Vogler and -Cherubini were writing for the Viennese. The -compositions of the latter met with great success, -and made a powerful impression on Beethoven. -In these men he met with foes worthy -of his steel, and inducements great enough to -lead him to do his very best. His severe heart -trials and consequent disappointment had -taught him how lonely he was in the world. -Breuning wrote of him in 1804: “You have -no idea, my dear Wegeler, how indescribable, -and, I might say, horrible an impression his -partial loss of hearing has made on him.... -What must be the feelings of one with such a -violent temper, to meet with such a misfortune! -And then his reserve, and his distrust frequently -of his best friend!” A subject like -that of the <i>Fidelio</i> must, of itself, have taken -strong hold of a man like Beethoven, because<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> -of the powerful scene in which Leonore holds -her mortal enemy, Pizarro, spell-bound, with -the pistol in her hand. What must have most -affected him here, however, was the ideal background -of suffering for truth and freedom—for -Pizarro was a tyrant—and the fact that a -woman had the power that comes of genuine -fidelity to avert every danger from her beloved -husband, even at the risk of her own life. -And Beethoven endowed the work with his -exalted and almost transfigured background -of feeling, by means of his music, which here -depicts the constitution of his own nature, and -his whole intellectual build. He accurately -hits the decisive climax of the conflict, and -gives to the principal actors so much of real -personal character, that we cannot fail to recognize -them, and to understand their action -from their inner feelings. This, in connection -with a very powerful declamation, is the continuation -of the dramatic characteristics which -we greet in the <i>Fidelio</i>. The development of -the operatic form as such is not further carried -on in this work. In his pure instrumental -music, even more than in the <i>Fidelio</i>, Beethoven -has given form to the language of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span> -soul and to the great hidden springs of action -of the world and human nature.</p> - -<p>A period may come when stricter demands -may be made on dramatic art, and when, as a -consequence, this work may not have as much -charm as it has for us, because of its fragmentary -character. But be this as it may, in some -of its details it will always appeal irresistibly -to the finest feeling. We find in it passages -like those in Beethoven’s improvisation which -never failed to draw from his hearers tears of -real happiness. The greater part of this language -was, like Mozart’s Cantilene, rich in -soul. Yet melodies like <i>Komm, Hoffnung, lass -den letzten Stern</i>, <i>In des Lebens Fruehlingstagen</i> -and <i>O namen, namenlose Freude</i>, are of -such a character that “humanity will never -forget them.” Like the Holy Grail, they furnish -food and light at the same time, and, like -certain forces, produce a greater yield in proportion -as greater demands are made upon -them. We frequently find in it expressions -that are simply inimitable, and when this -work is contemplated we see that it bears evidence -of a profundity of soul and of a development -of mind which separate—<i>toto coelo</i>—Beethoven<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> -from his predecessors, Mozart not -excepted. Whole pieces in it are full of the -deepest and warmest dramatic life, made up of -the web and woof of the human soul itself. -Such, for instance, are <i>Wir muessen gleich zu -Werke schreiten</i>, the chorus of prisoners, the -picture of Florestan’s dungeon, the digging -of the grave, and above all the thrilling -<i>Toet’ erst sein Weib!</i> (kill first his wife). But -the center of all is, as may be seen from the -innumerable and most refined traits of the -music, Leonore, the pattern of heroic fidelity. -Her character stirred Beethoven to the very -depths of his soul, for her power of hope and -her devotion to freedom were his own. The -work itself was to be called <i>Leonore</i>, as, indeed, -the first piano-score was called in 1810.</p> - -<p>This work has a meaning in the life of our -artist himself, greater, almost, than its importance -as a work of art.</p> - -<p>The work required, for its completion, only -the spring and summer of the year 1805. The -sketches of it show how carefully the file was -used on its every part. Only the fire of enthusiastic -devotion was able to smelt the ore -of the separate arias, duets and terzettoes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> -which make up the matter of the whole; but -this it could not do here fully enough to produce -that natural flow which dramatic taste -even now demanded. Moreover, the storm of -war broke upon Vienna and deprived Beethoven’s -hearers of even the calm of devotion. -The result was that only the prima donna -Milder-Hauptmann satisfied the public in the -character of Leonore. Besides, Beethoven, as -a composer of purely instrumental music, had -not paid sufficient attention to the demands of -the human voice. On the 13th of October, -1805, Napoleon entered Vienna, and after the -20th the <i>Fidelio</i> was repeated three times; -not, however, before the art lovers of Vienna, -but before an audience composed of French -officers. It was received with little applause, -and after the first performance the house -remained empty. Beethoven withdrew the -work. But even the critics missed in it at this -time “that certain splendor of originality -characteristic of Beethoven’s works.” Our -artist’s friends now gathered about him to -induce him to make some abbreviations in the -opera. This was at the house of Lichnowsky. -Beethoven was never before seen so much<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span> -excited, and were it not for the prayers and -entreaties of the gentle and tender Princess -Christiane, he would certainly have agreed to -nothing. He consented at last to drop a few -numbers, but it took six full hours to induce -him to do even this. It is easy to explain this -fact: the work was the pet child of his brain. -Breuning now re-arranged the libretto. He -made the acting more vivacious and Beethoven -shortened the several pieces still more. The -work proved more acceptable to the public, -but Beethoven thought himself surrounded -by a network of intrigue, and, as he had -agreed only for a share in the profits, he once -more withdrew the work. We hear no more -of it until 1814. We shall see what effect its -production had when we reach that date in -Beethoven’s life.</p> - -<p>But this re-arrangement led to a new overture -and to a new poetical expression of the -subject, to the great <i>Leonoren-Overture</i>, known -as No. 3, but which is properly No. 2. Beethoven, -in this overture, lets us hear, as if in -the voices of thousands, the depth of pain in -Florestan’s dungeon; the glance of hope that -flashes across his mind when he thinks of his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span> -Leonore; the struggle of love with native fear -in the heart of the woman; her daring risk of -her own life for her beloved husband, and in -the signal of trumpets, the coming of her rescuer; -the calm joy of the unutterably happy -husband, as well as the boisterous, stormy joy -of the prisoners, all of whom get their liberty -with this one slave; and, last of all, the loudest -song of praise of freedom and happiness. -The symphonic poem, <i>Leonore</i>, as a whole, far -surpasses the dramatic work itself. Together -with the <i>Eroica</i>, it is the second monumental -work of Beethoven’s genius in this early -period of his musical creations, and proves him -a matured master in his art.</p> - -<p>The proud path thus entered on, he never -left.</p> - -<p>Besides the works already mentioned, we -may, for the sake of completeness, mention the -following likewise: The <i>Opferlied</i> (1st arrangement), -<i>Seufzer eines Ungeliebten</i>, variations -<i>quant’è più bello</i>, about 1795; variations to <i>Nel -cor più</i> and minuet <i>a la Vigano</i> which appeared -in 1796; sonata op. 49, I, about 1796; sonata -for four hands op. 6, the rondo op. 51, I, and -variations to a Russian dance, in 1797; variations<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> -to a Swiss song and <i>Mich brennt</i>, 1798; -<i>Gretels Warnung</i>, <i>La partenza</i>, composed in -1798; variations to the <i>La stessa</i>, <i>Kind, willst -du</i> and <i>Taendeln und Scherzen</i>, which -appeared in 1799; sonata op. 49, I, composed -in 1799; variations in G major, composed in -1800, serenade op. 25; rondo, op. 51, I; variations, -<i>Bei Maennern</i> which appeared in 1802; -terzetto op. 116, sonatas for violin, op. 30, -variations op. 34 and 35, composed in 1802; -<i>Glueck der Freundschaft</i>, op. 88 and <i>Zaertliche -Liebe</i> which appeared in 1803; trio variations -op. 44 and romance for the violin, op. 40, composed -in 1803; three marches op. 45, variations -to “Rule Brittannia,” and the <i>Wachtelschlag</i>, -1804; sonata op. 53, together with the -<i>andante</i> in F major, originally belonging to it, -the <i>triple concerto</i> op. 56, and the sonata op. -57, begun in 1804, <i>An die Hoffnung</i>, op. 32 and -trio op. 38, which appeared in 1805; fourth -concerto op. 58, composed in 1805; trio op. 36, -sonata op. 34, which appeared in 1806; <i>Empfindungen -bei Lydiens Untreue</i> belonging -probably to 1806.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III.</h2> - -<p class="ph1">1806-1812.</p> - -<p class="ph1">THE SYMPHONY C MINOR—THE PASTORALE AND -THE SEVENTH SYMPHONIES.</p> -</div> -<div class="blockquot"> -<div class="hangingindent"> -<p>The Pastorale—Its Composition—Meaning of the Apassionata—Its -History—Beethoven’s Letter to His “Immortal Loved -One”—His Own Opinion of the Apassionata—New Acquaintances—Thinks -of Writing Operas—Court-theater -Composer—Overture to Coriolanus—The Mass in C., op. -86—His Sacred Music—The Fidelio in Prague—Music -for Goethe’s Faust—“Power, the Moral Code”—Power -Expressed in Beethoven’s Music—Character of His Works -about this Period—Intercourse with the Malfattis—The -Cello Sonata, op. 69—Other Compositions and their Meaning—Improvement -in His Pecuniary Circumstances—Joseph -Bonaparte—Vienna Fears to Lose Him—Contemplated -Journey to England—The Seventh Symphony—Wagner -on the Seventh Symphony—His <i>Heirathspartie</i>—His -Letter to Bettina—His Estimate of Genius.</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Beethoven’s</span> Heiligenstadt Will, written -in the year 1802, closed with this painful appeal: -“O thou, Providence, let one day more -of joy dawn on me. How long have I been a -stranger to the heartfelt echo of true happiness! -When, when, O God, can I feel it once -more in the temple of nature and of man.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> -Never? No! O, that were too hard!” Our -artist’s thoughts were thus directed into channels -which carried him far from the scenes -immediately surrounding him into regions of -a higher existence—of an existence which he -soon described so exquisitely in the language -of music. The <i>Pastorale</i> which celebrates this -“Temple of nature” was originally designated -as No. 5, and was, therefore, intended to be -completed before the symphony in C minor. -But it would seem that Beethoven had to go -through many an internal conflict, the result -of his great depression of spirits, before he -could acquire the calmness of mind necessary -to form a proper conception of the “Peace of -God in Nature,” and to give it proper form -and expression in art.</p> - -<p>Breuning wrote, on the 2nd of June, 1806, -that the intrigues about the <i>Fidelio</i> were all -the more disagreeable to Beethoven because -the fact that it had not been performed reduced -him to some pecuniary straits, and that it -would take all the longer time for him to recover, -as the treatment he had received deprived -him of a great deal of his love for his -work. Yet the first of the quartets, op. 59,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> -bears the memorandum: “Begun on the 26th -of May, 1806;” and the fourth symphony -(op. 60), as well as the violin concerto (op. -61), also belong to this year. In the meantime -op. 56, which had been begun some time -previous, the triple concerto, op. 57, called the -<i>Apassionata</i>, and op. 58, the fourth concerto, -were all either continued or finished. What -wealth there is here—in the number of compositions, -in their magnitude and in their contents! -The three quartets are dedicated to -Count Rasumowsky, who had given Beethoven -the commission to write them, and who had -furnished the Russian melodies on which they -are based. How well the <i>adagio</i> of the second -of them points us to that higher region in -which Beethoven now felt himself more and -more at home. He himself told Czerny that -that <i>adagio</i> suggested itself to him one night, -when he was contemplating the starry heavens, -and thinking of the harmony of the spheres. -In the serene calmness of these vanishing -tones, we see the revolution of the stars -mirrored in all its grandeur. Here all -pain seems lightened, all passion stilled. -Yet how both had raged even in the <i>Apassionata</i>,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> -the draft of which is to be found -immediately following that of the <i>Fidelio</i>. -The <i>Apassionata</i> is written in his heart-blood. -Its tones are cries of excitement the -most painful. It was finished in the summer, -and dedicated to Count Franz Brunswick. -An oil painting of the count’s sister, Countess -Theresa, was found among Beethoven’s effects, -after his death. It bore the superscription: -“To the rare genius, the great artist, the good -man. From T. B.” It is supposed that the -letter to his “immortal love,” already referred -to, was addressed to her—and it is truly a -letter which gives us a pen-picture of Beethoven’s -condition of mind at that time, and -which affords an idea of the “gigantic sweep -of his ideas.” It was found after his death, together -with other important papers, in an old -chest, and is dated on July 6, from a watering -place in Hungary. It is rightly supposed to -have been written in the year 1806, in which -Beethoven paid a visit to the Brunswicks. But, -be this as it may, it gives evidence of intense -feeling, and shows that Beethoven now dwelt -on that sublime height on which all earthly -desires are silent. It seems also to lead us<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> -over to the understanding and appreciation of -Beethoven’s subsequent creations, which henceforth -gain an ideal character not of this earth. -We can here touch only on the principal points -in these letters.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“My angel, my all, my other self.” Thus does he -begin it on the 6th of July, in the morning. He proceeds: -“Only a few words to-day, and those in lead-pencil, -and that your own pencil, dear. Nothing can -be settled about my dwelling until to-morrow. What -a wretched loss of time for such trifles! Why -this deep affliction where necessity speaks? How -can our love continue to exist except through sacrifice, -except by limitation of our desires? Can you change -the fact that you are not entirely mine nor I entirely -yours? Look out on the beauties of nature, and resign -yourself to what must be. Love asks everything, -and rightly so. It does in my case. It does in your -case. But you forget too easily that I have to live for -you as well as for myself. Were we entirely one, you -would feel the pain there is in this as little as I.... -We shall, I trust, soon meet.... I cannot tell you -to-day what reflections I have made upon my life, -during the past forty-eight hours. Were our hearts -always close to one another, I am sure I should make -no such reflections. My heart is too full to tell you -much. There are moments when I find that language -is nothing at all. Cheer up; be my faithful, my only -pet, my all, as I am all yours. The gods must direct -the rest in our lives. Thy faithful</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Ludwig</span>.”</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>But, on the same dainty little piece of note -paper, he continues, for the mail had already -left:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“You suffer, dearest creature. Wherever I am, -you are with me. I must try to so arrange it that our -life may be one. But what, what a life to be thus -without you! I am pursued by the kindness of men -which I do not intend to earn, and yet, which I really -do earn. That a man should humble himself before -his fellow man, pains me; and when I consider myself -as a part of the universe, what am I, and who is He -they call the Most High? And yet here, again, we -find the divine in that which is human.... No -matter how great your love for me, my love for you is -greater still. Never hide yourself from me. Good -night! Being an invalid, I must go to sleep. Alas, -that I should be so near and yet so far from you. Is -not our love a real firmament of heaven? And is it -not as firm as the foundation of the heavens?”</p> -</div> - -<p>He takes up the same piece of paper once -more:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Good morning, this 7th of July! Even before I rise -my thoughts fly to you, dear—to you, immortal love, now -joyfully, now sadly, waiting to see whether the fates will -hear our prayer. If I shall live at all, it must be with -you. I am resolved to wander about far away from -you, until the time comes when I may fly into your -arms, and say that I belong to you; until I may send -my soul absolved by you, dear, into the land of spirits.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> -Yes, unfortunately it must be so. You will be all the -more composed, since you know how faithful I am to -you. Another can never possess my heart—never! -Why, O God, must a man be so widely separated from -the object of his love? And yet the life I now live in -Vienna is so wretched! Your love makes me, at -once, the happiest and the most unfortunate of men. -At my present age, there should be some uniformity -in my life; but is such a thing possible in my present -circumstances? Be patient. Only by the patient -contemplation of our existence can we gain our object -and live united. Be patient! love me! How I longed -and wept for you to-day and yesterday; you, my life, -my all! Farewell; love me ever, never forget the most -faithful heart of thy beloved Ludwig. I am ever thine -and thou forever mine.”</p> -</div> - -<p>How completely like Beethoven! It was -during this very summer that he completed -the <i>Apassionata</i>, which he always considered -the greatest of his sonatas, at the home of the -Brunswicks. Can it be said that its language -is in anything greater than the language of -this letter? He seems at this time to be nearly -always possessed by a feeling of melancholy. -But for this very reason he took refuge more -than ever in music. It was, indeed, a real -sanctuary to him, and he refused to open that -sanctuary to the eyes of strangers, and, least of -all, to the eyes of enemies. This he very<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> -plainly proved to Prince Lichnowsky during -the fall. Beethoven had left Hungary and -was spending some time in Silesia with the -prince. The latter desired him to play for -some French officers who were quartered in his -castle. A violent scene immediately ensued. -After it was over, Beethoven left the castle. -He refused to go back with the prince who had -followed him, but repaired, post haste, back to -Vienna, in which city the prince’s bust was -broken to pieces as an expiatory sacrifice. It -was not long, however, before the old friendship -of the two was re-established.</p> - -<p>In the quartet sketches of this year, we find -the words: “Just as you can cast yourself here -into the whirl of society, it is possible to write -operas spite of all social impediments. Let -the fact that you do not hear be a mystery no -longer, even in your music.” This “whirl of -society” introduces us to some new acquaintances. -Count Rasumowsky held very brilliant -soirées, at which the amiable and charming -wife of his librarian, Marie Bigot, performed -some of Beethoven’s works in an exquisite -manner. The playing of the elegant -and handsome Countess Marie Erdoedy, whom<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> -Beethoven himself called his “father confessor,” -was not inferior to that of Madame -Bigot. Other patrons of the musical art were -Madame Dorothea von Ertmann, a charming -Frankfort lady, and the Malfattis, one of whom -was Beethoven’s physician. The home of -Streicher, who had married Nanette Stein, -daughter of the Augsburg piano-maker, described -in Mozart’s letter of 1777 in so droll -a manner, was the rendezvous of lovers of -music. Nor must we forget to mention Prince -Lobkowitz and the Emperor’s youngest brother, -the Archduke Rudolph, Beethoven’s distinguished -pupil, who, as our artist himself admitted, -understood music thoroughly.</p> - -<p>The chief value, however, of the works -quoted above, is that they inform us how -Beethoven, spite of his experience with the -<i>Fidelio</i>, was thinking very seriously of the -writing of “operas.” If successful here, his -fortune was made, and there was nothing then -to hinder the crowning of his love by marriage. -There now seemed to be a very good -prospect of that success, for, in the year 1807, -the two court-theaters passed into the hands -of a company of noblemen, with Lobkowitz at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> -their head. Lobkowitz immediately called -upon Beethoven to act as composer for the -Court-theater. Our artist accepted the position, -and bound himself to write at least one -great opera and operetta each year, and to supply -whatever other music might be needed. A -feeling of inexhaustible power must have inspired -him at this time, when he was actuated -by the tenderest love, with the utmost confidence -in self. A forcible proof of this is the -overture which he then wrote to Collins’s <i>Coriolanus</i>. -But the gentlemen did not accede to -his wishes; they did not want to trust him as -composer of instrumental music in this point; -and thus Beethoven, although not particularly -pleased by the action of his princely friends, -was, fortunately for himself and for us, retained -in the field of labor most in harmony -with his disposition.</p> - -<p>“If it be true that genuine strength and a -fullness of deep feeling characterize the Germans, -we must say that Beethoven was, above -all, a German artist. In this, his most recent -work, we cannot but admire the expressiveness -and depth of his music, which so grandly -painted the wild, perturbed mind of <i>Coriolanus</i>,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span> -and the sudden and terrible change in his -fate, while it elicited the sublimest emotion.” -These lines are from an account of a concert -given in the <i>Augarten</i> by Lichnowsky in the -spring of 1807. But we have very reliable information -that Beethoven was now engaged on -the symphony in C minor and on the <i>Pastorale</i>. -Thanks to Clementi, who was doing a -large and thriving music business in London, -and to his old friend Simrock, in Bonn, which -was French at the time, he felt at his ease so -far as money matters were concerned. He -writes to Brunswick on the 11th of May, 1807: -“I can now hope to be able, in a few years, to -maintain the dignity of a real artist.” And -when, in the same letter, we read the farther -passage, “Kiss your sister Theresa. Tell -her that I fear that I shall become great -without a monument, to which she has contributed,” -we can understand how love, fame -and lofty intuition conspired to fit him for new -and mighty exploits in art.</p> - -<p>The next work published by Beethoven was -the Mass in C, op. 86, which Esterhazy gave -him a commission to write. But here Beethoven, -even more than in opera, missed the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> -spirit of his subject. The Mass bears witness -to his intellect, and has all the charms of -sound; but it is not a religious composition. -When Beethoven himself wrote to Esterhazy, -as he did at this time: “Shall I tell you that -it is not without many misgivings that I shall -send you the Mass, for I know you are accustomed -to have the inimitable works of the -great Haydn performed for you,” he proves -that he did not understand the real spirit of -church music; for Haydn had, just as little as -Beethoven, a true conception of what church -music is. Haydn was now seventy-six years -old, and Beethoven attended a performance of -his <i>Creation</i> the following year, and, with a -number of the distinguished nobility, received -the celebrated guest at the door. The fame -of the man whom he was thus called upon to -honor, was a type of what his own was destined -one day to be. And what his own fame -would be, the production of the great works -he had recently finished, must have enabled -him to foresee. When the Mass was performed, -in September, 1807, in Eisenstadt, our -composer had a personal falling out—the result -of a misunderstanding—with Mozart’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> -pupil, Hummel; and one which was not made -up for for some years. The prince had criticised -Beethoven’s Mass by asking the strange question: -“But, my dear Beethoven, what have -you been doing now?” Hummel could not -help laughing at this strange mode of criticism. -Beethoven supposed he was laughing -at his work; and after this would have nothing -more to do with the prince.</p> - -<p>It was otherwise with the magnanimous, -noble lover of art, Prince Lobkowitz, one of the -principal grandees of Bohemia, and one of the -principal patrons of the theater. To him Beethoven -was indebted for the suggestion that the -<i>Fidelio</i> should be performed in Prague. For -the occasion, Beethoven wrote, in this year, -1807, the overture, op. 138, which is, therefore, -to be accounted not the second, but the -third <i>Leonore</i> overture. The performance of -the <i>Fidelio</i>, however, did not take place until -1814, the same year in which it was performed -in Vienna. In the following summer (1808), it -was publicly announced that “the gifted Beethoven -had conceived the idea to put Goethe’s -Faust to music, as soon as he could find any -one to prepare it for the stage.” The first<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> -part of Faust had appeared in 1807, as a -“tragedy;” and, as we shall see, the poem -made a deep impression on our artist. Long -after, and even on his death-bed, it occupied -his thoughts. But he had, even now, written -some Faust music—the symphony in C minor. -To it we now turn, for it is one of the greatest -of Beethoven’s creations.</p> - -<p>We have seen how Beethoven himself once -said: “Power is the moral code of men who -distinguish themselves above others.” And -so we hear how one person described him as -“power personified;” how another said of him -that “a Jupiter occasionally looked out through -his eyes:” and a third, that “his magnificent -forehead was the seat of majestic, creative -power.” Spurred on by the opposition of -“fate,” that is, by what nature had denied him, -we see this power appear in all its concentration -and sublimity. The power which has -created, and which preserves all things, has -been called “will,” and music, one of its immediate -phenomena, while the other arts are -only reflections of that will, and reflect only -the things of the world. In the first movement -of the symphony in C minor, we feel<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> -the presence of this power or personal will, to -an extent greater than in any other work of -art. It there appears in fullest action, in all -its nobility. The symphony might not inappropriately -have been called the Jupiter-symphony; -for it is a veritable head of Jove, such -as only a Phidias could have imagined. Melody -has been described as the history of the -will illuminated by reason, and the sonata-form -of the symphony is just such kind of -melody. And it is this fifth symphony of -Beethoven’s, which, more than any other, tells -us the most secret history of that personal -will, of all its strivings and motions. No -type in any art, could have suggested a Siegfried -to Richard Wagner. Here Beethoven’s genius -acts as force, as will, and as the conscious intelligence -of the prototype of the Great Spirit. -Yet when the work was performed in Paris, -Hector Berlioz heard his teacher, Lessieur, say -of it—and this, although he was deeply moved -by it—“but such music should not be heard.” -“Don’t be afraid,” was the reply, “there will -be little of that kind of music written.” How -correct was the insight of the gifted Frenchman! -Siegfried’s <i>Rheinfahrt</i>, in the <i>Goetterdaemmerung</i>, -is music of “that kind.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>But it is only the night of sorrow that gives -birth to the concentration of power. It is only -by great effort that this energy can be maintained. -And as Coriolanus finely presses all the -darts aimed at him by his mother into her -own heart, in defying sacrifice, so we find, in -the background of this holiest and most manly -will, the consciousness of the variety and -transitory character of all things. In his -heart of hearts, Beethoven feels that fate has -knocked at his door, only because in his following -the dictates of force and action, he has -sinned against nature, and that all will is only -transitoriness and self-deception. The <i>adagio</i> -expresses subjection to a higher will. The -consciousness of this highest act of the will, -to sacrifice one’s self and yet to preserve one’s -freedom, gave birth to the song of jubilation -in the <i>finale</i> which tells not of the joy and -sorrow of one heart only; it lifts the freedom -which has been praised and sought for into the -higher region of moral will. Thus the symphony -in C minor has a significance greater than -any mere “work of art.” Like the production -of religious art, it is a representation of those -secret forces which hold the world together.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>The consciousness of this deeper, intimate -dependence of all things on one another, is -henceforth seen like a glimmer of light in the -darkness which gathered around him, and it -continues to beautify and transfigure his creations.</p> - -<p>The <i>Pastorale</i> immediately followed the -symphony in C minor. It gives expression -to the peace of nature and to the fulfillment of -the saying: “Look out on the beauties of nature -and calm your soul by the contemplation -of what must be.” While the fourth symphony -compared with the fifth, is a symphony -and nothing more—even if it be Beethoven’s—we -plainly discover in this sixth, the poetic -spirit, the pure feeling of God. The idea and -character it illustrates constitutes in Beethoven’s -life the transition from the external beauty -of nature to the comprehension of the eternal. -Over it is written: “Recollections of country -life,” but also, “More an expression of feeling -than a painting.” “The Beethovens loved -the Rhine,” the young playmates of the boy -Ludwig were wont to say, and he wrote himself -to Wegeler: “Before me is the beautiful -region in which I first saw the light as plainly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> -and as beautiful as the moment I left you.” -On a leaf, written in his own hand, we find -the words: “O the charm of the woods—who -can express it?” But now that he was compelled -to live a solitary life, nature became to -him a mother, sister and sweetheart. He -looked upon the wonders of nature as into -living eyes; she calmed him who was naturally -of such a stormy temperament, and to whom -life had been unkind in so many ways. In -the <i>Scene am Bach</i> (Scene by the Brook), the -waters murmur peace to his soul; and the -birds by the brooklet, in Heiligenstadt, where -these two symphonies were finished, whisper -joy. His <i>Lustiges Zusammensein der Landleute</i>, -infuses new courage into the heart, and -when his <i>Gewitter und Sturm</i>, tells of the -might of the Eternal, the shepherds express -their joyful and grateful feelings in the words: -<i>Herr wir danken dir</i>. The <i>finale</i>, like the -<i>Chorphantasie</i> (op. 80), planned in 1800 but -not finished until 1808, was intended to contain -a chorus expressing in words the joyful -and thankful feeling of the people. Beethoven’s -own personal experience is always expressed -in his music. A more intimate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> -acquaintance with nature gave it to him to -find yet deeper expression for the feelings -which it excites in our hearts, as its everlasting -change enabled him to conceive the eternal -and imperishable.</p> - -<p>We now turn to a whole series of new and -brilliant creations of our hero. It would seem -as if his intercourse with the eternal in nature -had given him new life.</p> - -<p>During these years, Beethoven’s intimacy -with the Malfattis and their two charming -daughters, was a great source of pleasure to -him. His feelings towards them may be inferred -from the following passages in his notes -to his friend Gleichenstein. He writes: “I -feel so well when I am with them that they -seem able to heal the wounds which bad men -have inflicted on my heart.”... “I expect -to find there in the <i>Wilden Mann</i> in the park, -no wild men, but beautiful graces.” And -again: “My greetings, to all who are dear to -you and to me. How gladly would I add—and -to whom we are dear???? These points -of interrogation are becoming, at least in me.” -Gleichenstein married the second daughter, -Anna Malfatti, in 1811. To the young dark-eyed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> -Theresa, who made her debut in society -about this time, and whom he writes of as -“volatile, taking everything in life lightly” -but “with so much feeling for all that is beautiful -and good, and a great talent for music,” -he sends a sonata, and recommends Goethe’s -Wilhelm Meister and Schlegel’s translation of -Shakespeare. We thus see that his intercourse -with the family had that intellectual foundation -which Beethoven could not dispense with, -on anything. It would even seem as if, in his -enthusiasm to put his strength to the test of -new deeds, even his “eternal loved one” -should fade from his view.</p> - -<p>The cello sonata (op. 69) dedicated to his -friend Gleichenstein immediately followed the -<i>Pastorale</i>. The two magnificent trios dedicated -to Countess Erdoedy, with whom he -resided at this time, follow as op. 70. The -first movement of the trio in D major is a -brilliantly free play of mind and force, while -the <i>adagio</i> suggests Faust lost in the deep -contemplation of nature and its mysteries. -The whole, on account of the mysterious awe -expressed by this movement has been called by -musicians the <i>Fledermaustrio</i>, i. e., the bat-trio.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> -The <i>Leonore</i> is numbered op. 72. It -was published in 1810. Op. 73, the most -beautiful of all concertos, was dedicated to the -Archduke Rudolph. We have further, op. -74, the harp-quartet, dedicated to Prince -Lobkowitz, and the fantasia for the piano, op. -77, to his friend Brunswick; lastly, the sonata -in F sharp major, op. 78, very highly valued -by Beethoven himself, dedicated to his sister -Theresa. Verily “new acts” enough, and -what glorious deeds!</p> - -<p>This brings us to the year 1809, which witnessed -a change for the better in Beethoven’s -pecuniary circumstances. He now received a -permanent salary. On the 1st of November, -1808, he wrote to the Silesian Count, Oppersdorf,—whom -he had visited in the fall of 1806, -in company with Lichnowsky, and who gave -him a commission to write a symphony, which -the count, however, never received—as follows: -“My circumstances are improving without the -assistance of people who entertain their friends -with blows. I have also been called to act as -<i>capellmeister</i> to the King of Westphalia, and -perhaps I may obey the call.” The following -December, Beethoven gave a great concert, the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> -programme of which embraced the two new -symphonies, parts of his Mass, the concerto in -G minor, and the <i>Chorphantasie</i>. He himself -improvised at the piano. The attention -of people far and near was called anew to this -great and grave master in music, whom the -sensualist Jerome Bonaparte endeavored to attract -to his Capua in Cassel, and they became -anxious lest he might leave Vienna. Beethoven’s -friends bestirred themselves to keep -him in Vienna, as did Beethoven himself to -stay. This is very evident from the letters to -Gleichenstein and Erdoedy. Three friends of -his, to whom it was largely due that he wrote -one of his greatest works, were instrumental -in keeping him in Vienna. They were the -Archduke Rudolph, Prince Lobkowitz and -Prince Kinsky, to whose wife the six songs, op. -75, are dedicated. The sum guaranteed -amounted to eight thousand marks. “You -see, my dear good Gleichenstein,” he writes, -on the 18th of March, 1809, <i>a propos</i> of the -“decree” which he had received on the 26th -of February, from the hands of the archduke, -and which imposed on him no duty but to -remain in Vienna and Austria, “how honorable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> -to me my stay here has become.” He -could not, however, have meant seriously what -he added immediately after: “The title of imperial -<i>capellmeister</i> will come to me also;” for -what use had a man like the Emperor Franz -for such an “innovator” at his court? The -dedications of his works mentioned above -were simply testimonials of gratitude for the -friendship thus shown him.</p> - -<p>He now planned an extensive journey, -which was to embrace England, and even -Spain. He writes to Gleichenstein: “Now -you can help me get a wife. If you find a -pretty one—one who may perhaps lend a sigh -to my harmonies, do the courting for me. -But she must be beautiful; I cannot love anything -that is not beautiful; if I could I should -fall in love with myself.” The coming war -interrupted all his plans. But, at the same -time, it suggested to the imagination of our -artist, that wonderful picture of the battle of -forces, the seventh (A major) symphony (op. -92), which Richard Wagner has called the -“apotheosis of the dance.” Germany now -first saw the picture of a genuinely national -war. Napoleon appeared as Germany’s hereditary<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> -foe, and the whole people, from the highest -noble to the meanest peasant rose up, as -one man, to fight the battle of freedom. The -march is, after all, only the dance of war, and -Beethoven gathered into one picture of instrumentation, -the glad tramp of warlike hosts, -the rhythm of trampling steeds, the waving of -standards and the sound of trumpets, with a -luminousness such as the world had never -witnessed before. The poet needs only see the -eddy created by a mill-wheel to paint the vapor -and foam of Charybdis. In the case of Beethoven, -this joy in the game of war was, as -the character of Bonaparte, on another occasion, -a stimulant to his imagination, which -now painted a picture of the free play of force -and of human existence from the material of -recent historical events. And even in after -years the timeliness of this work and the -spirit which called it into existence were evident. -And, as we shall soon see, it constituted -the principal part in the musical celebration, -when, in 1813, the real war of emancipation -occurred and led to a most decided victory. -Personally, Beethoven felt himself not inferior -to the mighty conqueror in natural power, and,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span> -like Schiller, he clearly foresaw the awakening -of the national genius which overthrew Napoleon. -To this second-sight of the prophet, -possessed by every genuine poet—to this sure -presentiment of ultimate triumph—our artist -owed it, that, even in the days of Germany’s -greatest ignominy and subjection he sang of -the disenthrallment of the mind and of the -jubilation of victory. Napoleon defeated the -Austrians again. But as Beethoven first felt -the weight and the power of resistance of -Germany after the battles of Aspern and Wagram, -he now depicted (after Napoleon had -taken the Emperor’s daughter to wife and -seemed predestined to become the despot of all -Europe), in the <i>scherzo</i> and <i>finale</i> of the -seventh symphony, better than ever before, -the jubilation of the victorious nation, with all -its popular feasts and games. Yet, in the -melancholy second part, with its monotonous -beats on the <i>dominante</i>, we think we -hear the gloomy rhythm of a funeral march. -This exceedingly characteristic theme is found -at the very beginning of a sketch-book of the -year 1809.</p> - -<p>Affairs were for a time in a very bad condition<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> -in Vienna and all Austria. The burthen -of taxation was severely felt. Everything -was at a standstill. When his beloved pupil, -the Archduke Rudolph retreated from Vienna -he wrote the <i>Lebewohl</i> of the sonata op. 81<sup>a</sup>; -but its <i>finale</i> (<i>die Ankunft</i>) was not written -until the 30th of January, 1810. The summer -was a dreary one to Beethoven, and there -was no demand for the exercise of his genius. -Following Ph. E. Bach, Kirnberger, Fux -and Albrechtsberger he prepared the <i>Materiellen -zum Generalbass</i> (materials for thorough-bass) -for his noble pupil. This work was -subsequently but wrongly published under -the name of <i>Beethoven’s Studien</i>. On the 8th -of September, a charity concert was given at -which—to the disgrace of the period, be it -said, for Napoleon had only just left Schoenbrunn—the -<i>Eroica</i> was performed, Beethoven -himself holding the baton. The rest of the -summer he hoped to spend in some quiet -corner in the country. He sojourned sometime -with the Brunswicks in Hungary, and -composed those works of his genius, op. 77 -and 78. His genius, indeed, seems to have -awakened to a new life during this fall of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span> -1809. For the sketch-book of the seventh -symphony (op. 92) contains sketches of the -8th (op. 93) also; and Beethoven contemplated -giving another concert at Christmas, -at which, of course, only new works -could be performed. These sketches are followed -by drafts for a new concerto. On these -drafts we find the words: <i>Polonaise fuer -Clavier allein</i>, also <i>Freude schoener Goetterfunken</i>—“finish -the overture” and “detached -periods like princes are beggars, not -the whole.” He here takes up once more -those ideas of his youth, but with a grander -conception of their meaning. They constitute -the intellectual germ of the <i>finale</i> of the -ninth symphony. But the melody which he -actually noted down was elaborated in 1814 -into the overture op. 115 (<i>Zur Namensfeier</i>).</p> - -<p>During this period of Germany’s national -awakening, the theaters had again turned their -attention to Schiller’s dramas. The effect of -this was to revive Beethoven’s youthful ideas. -He now desired to give <i>Tell</i> a musical -dress. He had already received a commission -of this kind for the <i>Egmont</i>, and, on the occasion -of his receiving it, he gave expression<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> -to a remarkable opinion. Said he to Czerny: -“Schiller’s poems are exceedingly difficult to -set to music. The composer must be able to -rise high above the poet. But who can rise -higher than Schiller? Goethe is much easier.” -And, indeed, his <i>Egmont</i> overture breathes a -higher spirit and takes a loftier flight than -Goethe’s beautiful tragedy. The composition -of this music led to his more intimate acquaintance -with the poet. To this same year, -1810, belong the incomparable songs <i>Kennst -du das Land</i>, and <i>Herz mein Herz</i>, in op. 75.</p> - -<p>This year, 1810, brings us to a somewhat -mysterious point in Beethoven’s life, to his -<i>Heirathspartie</i> (marriage speculation).</p> - -<p>In the spring, he writes to his friend Zmeskall: -“Do you recollect the condition I am -in—the condition of Hercules before Queen -Omphale? Farewell, and never again speak -of me as the great man, for I never felt either -the weakness or the strength of human nature -as I do now.” But writing to Wegeler on the -second of May, he says: “For a couple of -years I have ceased to lead a quiet and peaceful -life. I was carried by force into the -world’s life. Yet I would be happy, perhaps<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> -one of the very happiest of men, were it not -that the demon has taken up his abode in my -ears. Had I not read somewhere that man -should not voluntarily take leave of life while -he is still able to do one good deed, I should -long have departed hence, and by my own -act. Life is very beautiful, but, in my case, -it is poisoned forever.” He asked for the -certificate of his baptism, and this in a manner -so urgent that it creates surprise. It was -three months before the answer to the enigma -was found, and Breuning wrote that he believed -that Beethoven’s engagement was -broken off. But it continues a mystery, even -to this day, who his choice was. It has been -surmised that it was his “immortal loved one,” -or Theresa Brunswick. But we know nothing -certain on this point. True, he had now -acquired both fame and a position which raised -him above all fear of want. But she was -thirty-two years old, and he hard of hearing. -In addition to this, there was, on his side, a -relationship of the nature of which we shall -yet have something to say. Her passion, if -such there was on her part, must have been -prudently concealed; and it is certainly remarkable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span> -that, from this time forward, her -name is not mentioned by Beethoven. However, -her niece, Countess Marie Brunswick, -who is still living, expressly writes: “I never -heard of any intimate relation nor of any love -between them, while Beethoven’s profound -love for my father’s cousin, Countess Guicciardi, -was a matter of frequent mention.” But -Giulietta had at this time long been Countess -Gallenberg. The solution of this mystery, -accordingly, belongs to the future.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, we have a few notes to -Gleichenstein, who married the younger Malfatti, -the following year. In one of them we -read: “You live on still, calm waters—in a -safe harbor. You do not feel or should not -feel the distress of the friend who is caught in -the storm. What will people think of me -in the planet Venus Urania? How can one -judge of me who has never seen me? My -pride is so humbled, that even without being -ordered to do so, I would travel thither with -thee.” And, in the other: “The news I -received from you cast me down again out of -the regions of happiness. What is the use -of saying that you would send me word when<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span> -there was to be music again? Am I nothing -more than a musician to you and to others? -Nowhere but in my own bosom can I find -a resting-place. Externally, to myself there -is none. No, friendship and feelings like -it have only pain for me. Be it so, then. -Poor Beethoven, there is no external happiness -for you. You must create your own -happiness. Only in the ideal world do you -find friends.” The sketch of that and Klaerchen’s -song <i>Freudvoll und leidvoll</i> were -found in the possession of Theresa Malfatti. -When Gleichenstein was engaged, the feelings -of the man who had been so bitterly deceived -overflowed. But how could the young girl of -eighteen dare to do what the grave Countess -would not venture? Theresa Brunswick died -unmarried. Theresa Malfatti married, in 1817, -one Herr von Drossdick. Nevertheless, Beethoven’s -intercourse with the family continued.</p> - -<p>We next hear of his acquaintance with -Bettina Brentano which led to his meeting -Goethe in person.</p> - -<p>Her brother Francis had married a Miss -Birkenstock, of Vienna. Beethoven had been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> -long and well acquainted with the Birkenstock -family. Bettina Brentano herself was -betrothed to Achim von Arnim, and her -deep love of music had inspired her with a -genuine affection for Beethoven. One beautiful -day in May, she, in the utmost simplicity -of heart, went, in company with her married -sister, Mrs. Savigny, to Beethoven and met -with the very best reception. He sang for -her <i>Kennst du das Land</i>, with a sharp -and unpleasant voice. Her eyes sparkled. -“Aha!” said Beethoven, “most men are -touched by something good. But such men -have not the artist’s nature. Artists are fiery -and do not weep.” He escorted her home to -Brentano’s, and after this they met every day.</p> - -<p>Bettina at this time sent Goethe an account -of the impression made on her by Beethoven’s -appearance and conversation. Her -charming letters are to be found in the Cotta -<i>Beethovenbuch</i>. They show how exalted an -idea Beethoven had of his own high calling. -She writes: “He feels himself to be the -founder of a new sensuous basis of the intellectual -life of man. He begets the undreamt-of -and the uncreated. What can such a man<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> -have to do with the world? Sunrise finds -him at his blessed day’s work, and at sunset he -is as busy as at early morning. He forgets -even his daily food. O! Goethe, no Emperor -or King is as conscious of his power and of -the fact that all power proceeds from him, as -is this man Beethoven.” And Goethe, who -“loved to contemplate and fix in memory -the picture of real genius,” who well knew -“that his intellect was even greater than his -genius, and who frequently throws from himself -a luminousness like that of lightning, so -that we can scarcely tell, as we sit in the -darkness, from what side the day may break,” -invited him to Carlsbad, whither he was wont -to go every year.</p> - -<p>The two remarkable letters to Bettina of -the 11th of August, 1810, and the 10th of -February, 1811, the autographs of which -have since been found, show us how deeply -the heart of our artist was stirred by love -at this time. They are to be found in -“Beethoven Letters.” A work of his composed -about this time, the <i>Quartetto serioso</i>, op. -95, of October, 1810, throws some light on -this love, and yet it rises far above the pain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span> -and the sorrow of the situation in which he -found himself. Heavy thunders announce -Vulcan at work; but in the <i>finale</i>, how Beethoven’s -giant mind frees itself from itself! -The noble, powerful soaring Trio op. 97 dates -from the spring of 1811, and, especially in the -<i>adagio</i>, gives evidence of wonderful heartfelt -bliss. But the fact that in this period no other -compositions were written would go to show the -influence of bitter experience. It may be, -however, that the commission he received for -the plays “The Ruins of Athens” and “King -Stephen,” took up the best portion of his -time; and, besides, the two symphonies had to -be finished. The song <i>An die Geliebte</i> also -belongs to this year 1811, as well as the principal -draft of op. 96, the charmingly coquettish -sonata for the violin which was finished in -1812, on the occasion of the visit of the then -celebrated violin player Rode to Vienna.</p> - -<p>Beethoven’s work on these two plays took up -the summer of 1811, but they were not put -upon the stage until the spring of 1812. At -the same time, an opera was wanted for Vienna. -It was the “Ruins of Babylon.” He also -received an invitation to Naples, where Count<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> -Gallenberg was director of the theater. We -next find him traveling to Teplitz, a bathing -place, where he formed a more intimate acquaintance -with Varnhagen, Tiedge and Elise -von der Recke. Amalie Sebald, a nut-brown -maid of Berlin, twenty-five years of age, was -stopping with Elise. Amalie had a charming -voice, and was as remarkable for her intellectual -endowments as for her beauty of physique. -Beethoven, spite of his many disappointments, -was greatly taken with her. Her picture is -before us. Her eye betokens intellect and -nobility of soul, and her mouth extreme -loveliness. Beethoven subsequently wrote to -Tiedge: “Press the Countess’s hand for me -very tenderly, but very respectfully. Give -Amalie a right loving kiss, when no one is -looking.” He did not see Goethe on this -occasion. He was at Teplitz again the following -year, when his meeting—of which so -much has been said and written—“with the -most precious jewel of the German nation,” -as he called Goethe, when writing to Bettina, -occurred. We can here give only the principal -incidents of that event.</p> - -<p>The Austrian imperial couple, their daughter,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> -the Empress of France, the King of Saxony, -the Duke of Saxe-Weimar, and a great -many Princes were there. The company already -in the place was joined by Goethe, the -jurist Savigny and his brother-in-law, A. von -Arnim, together with his charming wife, Bettina. -Beethoven himself writes on the 12th -of August, 1812, to his Archduke in Vienna:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“I was in Goethe’s company a great deal.” And -the poet, writing to Zelter, passes the following judgment -on Beethoven: “I became acquainted with Beethoven -in Teplitz. His wonderful talent astounded -me. But, unfortunately, he is an utterly untamed -character. He is not, indeed, wrong in finding the -world detestable. Still, his finding it detestable does -not make it any more enjoyable either to himself or to -others. But he is very excusable and much to be -pitied. His hearing is leaving him. He is by nature -laconic, and this defect is making him doubly so.”</p> -</div> - -<p>The remarkable incident related in the -third letter to Bettina, a letter which has been -widely read and the authenticity of which has -been much contested—for the original does -not seem to be extant—Bettina herself describes -in a letter to Pueckler-Muskau. Goethe, -she says, who had received many marks -of attention from the Princes present, was desirous<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span> -of testifying his special devotion to the -Empress, and in “solemn, unassuming expressions” -signified to Beethoven that he should do -the same. But Beethoven replied: “What! -You must not do so. You must let them -clearly understand what they possess in you; -for if you do not, they will never find it out. -I have taken quite a different course.” And -then he told how his Archduke once sent him -word to wait, and how, instead of doing so, he -went away. Princes might indeed, he said, -decorate one with the insignia of an order, or -make a man a court counsellor, but they could -never make a Goethe or a Beethoven. To -such men they owed respect. The whole court -now came in. Beethoven said to Goethe: -“Keep my arm; they must make way for us.” -But Goethe left him and stood aside with -his hat in his hand, while Beethoven, with folded -arms, went through the midst of them -and only touched his hat. The court party -separated to make place for him, and they had -all a friendly greeting for our artist. He -stood and waited at the other end for Goethe, -who bowed profoundly as the court party -passed him. Now Beethoven said: “I have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span> -waited for you, because I honor and respect -you, as you deserve, but you have done them -too much honor.” Then, it is said, Beethoven -ran to them, and told them all that had happened.</p> - -<p>That his behavior, on this occasion, was -not by any means dictated by any over-estimation -of himself, but by a deep human -feeling of equality—an equality which the -artist finds it harder than any one else to assert -and acquire—the whole course of Beethoven’s -life, as well as his intercourse with people at -this bathing place at Teplitz, proves. He -there found Miss Sebald again. A series of -very tender notes written to her tells us of his -heartfelt and good understanding with this -refined and clever North German lady, who -made greater allowances for his natural disposition -than were wont to be made. He -writes in 1816: “I found one whom, I am sure, -I shall never possess.” His admission that, for -five years—that is from 1811,—he had known -a lady to be united to whom he would have -esteemed it the greatest happiness he could -have on earth, was made in this same year. -But, he added, that was a happiness not to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> -thought of; union with her was an impossibility, -a chimera! And yet he closed with -the words: “It is still as it was the first day -I saw her. I cannot dismiss the thought of -her from my mind.” He did not know that -Amalie Sebald had been the wife of a councillor -of justice named Krause. Again did he -give vent to his feeling in the songs <i>An die -ferne Geliebte</i>—“to the distant loved one”—which -bear the date; “in the month of -April, 1816.”</p> - -<p>This was the last time that Beethoven seriously -concerned himself about marriage. Fate -would indeed have it that he should soon become -a “father,” but without a wife. Yet no -matter what the personal wishes of our artist -through the rest of his life may have been, or -what the wants he felt, his eye was ever fixed -on a lofty goal; and it was in the ideal world -that he found his real friends. He finished -the seventh symphony, and after it the eighth, -in this fall of 1812. The coquettish <i>allegretto -scherzando</i> of the latter was suggested by the -Maelzl metronome invented a short time before, -and the strange minuet with its proud -step is a hit at the high court society whom<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span> -Beethoven so solemnly warned that the times -of the old regime, when the principle <i>l’état -c’est moi</i> obtained in society, were passed. -These works are clearly expressive of the free -and progressive spirit of a new and better age. -It was the seventh symphony especially that, -in the broadest sense, opened to Beethoven -himself the hearts of that age. This symphony -helped celebrate the newly-won peace established -by the Congress of Vienna. Beethoven -now entered a new stage of development, -and rose to his full height as an artist -and a man. Other works composed by Beethoven -during this period are the following: -82 variations (1806-7); <i>In questa tomba</i> -(1807); <i>Sonatine</i> (op. 79); variations op. 76 -and <i>Lied aus der Ferne</i> (composed 1809); -<i>Die laute Klage</i> (probably 1809); Sextett op. -8<sup>b</sup>. <i>Andenken</i>, <i>Sehnsucht</i> by Goethe; <i>Der Liebende</i>, -<i>Der Juengling in der Fremde</i> (appeared -in 1810); three songs by Goethe, op. 83, (composed -in 1810); Scotch songs (commenced in -1810); four ariettes, op. 82, (appeared 1811); -trio in one movement and three <i>equale</i> for -four trombones, (composed in 1812) the latter -of which was re-arranged as a dirge for Beethoven’s -burial.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV.</h2> - -<p class="ph1">1813-1823.</p> - -<p class="ph1">THE MISSA SOLEMNIS AND THE NINTH SYMPHONY.</p> -</div> -<div class="blockquot"> -<div class="hangingindent"> -<p>Resignation—Pecuniary Distress—Napoleon’s Decline—The -Battle-Symphony—Its Success—Beethoven’s Own Estimate -of It—Wellington’s Victory—Strange Conduct—Intellectual -Exaltation—His Picture by Letronne—The -Fidelio Before the Assembled Monarchs—Beethoven the -Object of Universal Attention—Presents from Kings—Works -Written in 1814 and 1815—The Liederkreis—Madame -von Ertmann—His Nephew—Romulus and the -Oratorio—His “Own Style”—Symphony for London—Commission -from London—Opinion of the English -People—His Songs—His Missa Solemnis—His Own -Opinion of It—Its Completion—Characteristics—The -Ninth Symphony.</p> -</div></div> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Resignation</span>, the most absolute and heartfelt -resignation to thy fate! Thou shouldst -not live for thyself, but only for others. -Henceforth there is no happiness for thee, but -in thy art. O God, grant me strength to -conquer myself. Nothing should now tie me -to life.” With this cry of the heart, taken -<i>verbatim</i> from his diary of 1812, Beethoven -consecrated himself to the noble task which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> -after this he never lost sight of—of writing -“for the honor of the Almighty, the Eternal, -the Infinite.”</p> - -<p>The national bankruptcy of Austria did not -leave Beethoven unaffected. It compelled -him, besides, to come to the assistance of his -sick brother, Karl. The first thing, therefore, -that he felt called upon to undertake, in -order to provide himself with the mere means -of subsistence, was the public representation of -his new compositions. It was not long before -an occasion of an extraordinary kind offered, -an occasion which lifted Beethoven’s creations -to the dignity of one of the motive powers of -the national life of the period. The star of -Napoleon’s destiny was declining; and the -gigantic struggle begun to bring about the -overthrow of the tyrant of Europe, enlisted -the sympathy and active participation of our -artist.</p> - -<p>“To abandon a great undertaking and to remain -as I am! O, what a difference between -the un-industrious life I pictured to myself so -often! O, horrible circumstances which do -not suppress my desire to be thrifty, but which -keep one from being so. O, God! O, God!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> -look down on thy unhappy Beethoven. Let -this last no longer as it is.” Thus did he write -in May, 1813, in his diary. Madame Streicher, -interested herself in him in his pecuniary -embarrassment, which was so great that at one -time, he did not have so much as a pair of boots -to leave the house in. He writes: “I do -not deserve to be in the condition I am—the -most unfortunate of my life.” The payments -due him from Kinsky did not come, because -of his sad death, and Prince Lobkowitz’s -love of music and the theater had greatly embarrassed -him financially. Even the giving -of a concert which he contemplated had to be -abandoned in consequence of the bad times.</p> - -<p>The idea of a journey to London now took -possession of him all the more strongly because -of the straits to which he was reduced. -This journey was, doubtless, the “great undertaking” -referred to above. It is deserving -of special mention here, because to it we are -indebted for the ninth symphony.</p> - -<p>Maelzl, the inventor of the metronome, had -built a panharmonicum, and was anxious to -make the journey to London in company with -Beethoven. He had had the burning of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> -Moscow set for his instrument; and he now -wanted a musical representation of the next -great event of the time—Wellington’s victory -at Vittoria. He suggested the idea to Beethoven. -Beethoven’s hatred of Napoleon and -love of England induced him to adopt it, and -this was the origin of the <i>Schlachtsymphonie</i> -(battle-symphony) op. 91. For, in accordance -with Maelzl’s proposition, he elaborated -what was at first a trumpeter’s piece into an -instrumental composition. It was performed -before a large audience “for the benefit of the -warriors made invalids in the battle of Hanau.” -And—, irony of fate!—a work which Beethoven -himself declared to be a “piece of stupidity,” -took the Viennese by storm, and at a -bound, made him very popular in Vienna.</p> - -<p>It was performed on the 12th of December, -1813. The applause was unbounded. All -the best artists of the city were with him. -Salieri, Hummel, Moscheles, Schuppanzigh, -Mayseder, and even strangers like Meyerbeer, -assisted him. The Seventh Symphony was the -ideal foundation of the entire production, for -that symphony was the expression of the -awakening of the heroic spirit of the nation.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> -Anton Schindler, of whom we have already -spoken more than once, and of whom we shall -have more to say in the sequel, as Beethoven’s -companion, writes: “All hitherto dissenting -voices, with the exception of a few professors -of music, finally agreed that he was worthy of -the laurel crown.” He rightly calls the production -of this piece one of the most important -events in Beethoven’s life; for now the portals -of the temple of fame were opened wide to receive -him; and if he had had nothing “nobler -or better” than this to do in life, he certainly -would never again feel the want of the good -things of this world.</p> - -<p>His next concern was to turn the occasion -of the moment to advantage, to give some concerts -with <i>Wellington’s Victory</i>, and thus obtain -leisure to work. Pieces from the “Ruins -of Athens” also were played at these concerts. -The success of one aria in particular from that -composition suggested to one of the singers -of the court-opera the idea of reviving -the <i>Fidelio</i>. It then received the form in -which we have it to-day. And what a hold -the character of Leonore still had on our -artist’s soul, we learn from the account of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> -dramatic poet, Treitschke, who again tried to -abridge the text. He had given expression -to the last flash of life in the scene in Florestein’s -dungeon, in the words:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first">“Und spür’ ich nicht linde, sanft säuselnde Luft?</div> -<div class="indent">Und ist nicht mein Grab mir erhellet?</div> -<div class="verse">Und seh’, wie ein Engel im rosigen Duft</div> -<div class="indent">Sich tröstend zur Seite mir stellet,</div> -<div class="verse">Ein Engel, Leonoren, der Gattin so gleich,</div> -<div class="verse">Der führt mich zur Freiheit ins himmlische Reich.”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>“What I now tell you,” he continues, “will -never fade from my memory. Beethoven -came to me in the evening. He read, ran up -and down the room, murmured, growled, as -he usually did instead of singing, and tore -open the pianoforte. My wife had frequently -begged him in vain to play. To-day he -placed the text before him and began playing -wonderful melodies, which unfortunately no -charm could preserve. The hour passed. -Beethoven, however, continued his improvisation. -Supper was served but he would allow -no one to disturb him. It grew quite late. -He then put his arms about me and hurried -home. A few days after the piece was -finished.”</p> - -<p>At this time he wrote to Brunswick: “My<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> -kingdom is in the air. My soul trills as the -winds warble;” to Treitschke: “In short -I assure you, the opera will win the crown of -martyrdom for me.” Thus Leonore’s sorrows -and victory found expression a second time; -for now the so-called <i>Fidelio</i> overture (E major) -was composed. At its performance on the -23d of May, 1814, Beethoven was after the -very first act, enthusiastically called for and -enthusiastically greeted. The applause increased -with every succeeding performance.</p> - -<p>Beethoven was now one of the best known -characters in Vienna. He had, even before -this, given several concerts of his own, and at -several others music composed by him had -been performed. His picture by Letronne -appeared at this time. “It is as natural as -life,” said Dr. Weissenbach. He had, on the -26th of September, received with his music of -the <i>Fidelio</i>, the assemblage of monarchs who -had come to attend the Congress of Vienna; -and what was more natural than that he -should now greet them with something new -in the nature of festal music? He did this -with the cantata, <i>Der glorreiche Augenblick</i> -(“the glorious moment”) op. 136. The production<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> -of it took place in the ever memorable -Academy, on the 29th of November, 1814, -when Beethoven, before a “parterre of kings,” -and what was more, before the educated of -Europe, by the mere assistance of his art, -helped celebrate the solemn moment which -did away with oppression and tyranny and -marked the beginning of a new and happier -period. His audience was numbered by -thousands, and “the respectful absence of all -loud signs of applause gave the whole the -character of worship. Every one seemed to -feel that never again would there be such a -moment in his life.” This extract is from -Schindler’s account, yet, at certain places “the -ecstasy of all present found expression in the -loudest applause, applause which drowned the -powerful accompaniment of the composer.” -The <i>Schlachtsymphonie</i> (battle-symphony) as -well as the seventh symphony, contributed to -the achievement of this victory. After it was -over, he wrote to the archduke: “I am still -exhausted by fatigue, vexation, pleasure and -joy.” But to get an idea of the overpowering -impression made on him by those days, we -must refer to his diary of the following spring,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> -when all that he had then experienced took a -definite form in his feelings and consciousness. -He then writes:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“May all my life be sacrificed to the sublime. May -it be a sanctuary of art.... Let me live, even -if I have to have recourse to ‘assistance,’ and such -means can be found. Let the ear apparatus be perfected -if possible, and then travel! This you owe to -man and the Almighty. Only thus can you develop -what is locked up within you. The court of a prince, -a little orchestra to write music for, and to produce it, -for the honor of the Almighty, the Eternal, the Infinite. -Thus may my last years pass away, and to -future humanity....”</p> -</div> - -<p>He breaks off here as if he did not need to -express an opinion on what he aimed at achieving -and left after him as an inheritance. But -the reputation which he had acquired is correctly -described as “one of the greatest ever -won by a musician.” And now, more than -ever before, he was the object of universal -attention, especially at the brilliant entertainments -given by the Russian ambassador, count -Rasumowsky, to the monarchs present, on one -of which occasions he was presented to them. -The Empress of Russia wished to pay him a -special “compliment.” She did so at the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span> -palace of Archduke Rudolph, who thus helped -celebrate the triumph of his honored teacher. -At a court concert on the 25th of January, -1815, he accompanied the <i>Adelaide</i> for Florestan -Wild himself; and Schindler closes his -account of it with the words: “The great -master recalled those days with much feeling, -and with a certain pride once said that he -had made the great pay their court to him, -and that with them he had always preserved his -dignity.” He thus verified what, as we saw -alone, he had said to Goethe: “You must let -them clearly understand what they possess in -you.”</p> - -<p>The “assistance” he longed for came in the -form of presents from monarchs, especially of -the “magnanimous” one of the Empress of -Russia, for whom he, at that time, wrote the -polonaise, op. 89. These presents enabled him -to make a permanent investment of twenty -thousand marks, which his friends were very -much surprised to find he owned, after his -death. But, although by “decree” he drew -yearly the sum of 2,700 marks, his principal -source of income continued to be derived from -his intellectual labor; for his dearly beloved<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span> -brother Karl died and left him, as an inheritance, -so to speak, his eight-year-old son, named -after his father—the mother not being a fit -person to take care of the child, and, besides, -not enjoying the best of reputations. Beethoven’s -struggles for his “son,” <i>the unfortunate -nephew</i>, with the mother, whom he was wont -to call the “queen of the night,” filled the next -succeeding years of his life with legal controversies -and negotiations to such an extent -that they seem to have hindered him in his -work. Extreme trouble of mind, brought -about by the social and political degeneration -of Vienna immediately after the Congress, soon -entirely obscured the lustre of the days we -have just described; and it was only for short -moments of time, as on the occasion of the -celebrated concert of the year 1824, that we -see his old pride and fame revive. The works -performed at that concert were the <i>Missa Solemnis</i> -and the Ninth Symphony. The former -was a token of gratitude and devotion to the -Archduke Rudolph, but at the same time a -reflection of the soul of the artist himself as we -have heard him describe it above. The symphony -was written “for London;” whither in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> -these saddening times his eyes were directed, -and which, although he never undertook the -contemplated journey thither, became the incentive -to the composition of many important -works.</p> - -<p>Among the works which date from 1814 -and 1815, we may mention the sonata, op. 90, -a “struggle between the head and the heart,” -addressed in the summer of 1814 to Count -Moritz Lichnowsky on the occasion of his marriage -to a Vienna singer; the song <i>Merkenstein</i> -(op. 100), composed in the winter of -1814; Tiedge’s <i>Hoffnung</i> (op. 94), composed -after the last court concert for the singer -Wild; the chorus <i>Meeresstille und Glueckliche -Fahrt</i> (op. 112), which was written in 1815, -and in 1822, “most respectfully dedicated to -the immortal Goethe;” lastly, the magnificent -cello sonatas, op. 102, dedicated to Countess -Erdoedy, who became reconciled with him once -more during this winter, after there had been -a variance between them for a time. He calls -the first of these sonatas the “free sonata,” -and, indeed, freedom now became the characteristic -of his higher artistic pictures. The -<i>adagio</i> of the second discloses to us, in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span> -choral-like construction of its theme, the prevailing -religious direction taken by his -thoughts, which is also apparent in very many -expressions and quotations to be found in his -diary.</p> - -<p>We have already mentioned the <i>Liederkreis</i>, -op. 98. Beethoven worked at it and at the -sonata op. 101 at the same time. The latter, -an expression of the deepest poetry of the -soul, was ready the following year, and was -dedicated to Madame von Ertmann, his “dear -Dorothea Caecilia,” who, because she thoroughly -understood the meaning of Beethoven’s -music, became a real propagandist of his compositions -for the piano. In 1831, Mendelssohn -could say that he had “learned much” from -her deeply expressive execution. The noble -lady had lost her only son during the absence -of her husband in the wars of emancipation; -and Beethoven had rescued her from a condition -of mind bordering on melancholy, by -coming to her and playing for her until she -burst into tears. “The spell was broken.” -“We finite creatures with an infinite mind are -born only for suffering and for joy; and we -might almost say that the best of human kind<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> -obtain joy only through their sorrow.” Thus -spoke Beethoven to Countess Erdoedy, and -this little incident confirms its truth. His -own sufferings gave our artist the tones of his -musical creations, and these creations were to -him “the dearest gift of heaven,” and, as it -were, a consolation from on high.</p> - -<p>But to continue our biography.</p> - -<p>When, after a violent contest with the -mother, he was made sole guardian of his -nephew, and could then call him his own, he -seems, as a lady whose diary is embodied in -the little book <i>Eine stille Liebe zu Beethoven</i>, -informs us, to gain new life. He devoted -himself heart and soul to the boy, and he -wrote, or was unable to write, according as the -care of his nephew brought him joy or sorrow. -We can readily understand how it came to -pass that he now penned the words found by -the lady just mentioned, in a memorandum -book of his: “My heart overflows at the -aspect of the beauties of nature—and this -without her.” His “distant loved one” was -still to him the most valued possession of his -life—more to him, even, than himself.</p> - -<p>He had now in view several great projects—among<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> -them an opera, <i>Romulus</i>, by Treitschke, -and an oratorio for the recently founded “Society -of the Friends of Music,” in Vienna. -The latter failed, through the niggardliness of -the directors, and the former was not finished, -although our artist never gave up the intention -of completing it. In the autumn of 1816, an -English general, Kyd, asked Beethoven to -write a symphony, for two hundred ducats. -But as the general wanted it written in the -style of his earlier works, Beethoven himself -refused to accept the commission. Yet this -narrow English enthusiast had excited Beethoven’s -imagination with glowing accounts of -the harvest of profit he might reap in England, -and as Beethoven had recently sold many of -his works there, and as, besides, the new -“Philharmonic Society” had handsomely remunerated -him for these overtures, his intention -of crossing the Channel began to assume -a more definite form. His <i>Schlachtsymphonie</i> -(battle-symphony), especially, had already met -with a very flattering reception in England. -And a project was on foot in that country, even -now, to give him a “benefit” by the production -of his own works; and such a “benefit”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> -was actually given for him there when he was -on his death-bed. He wrote in 1816 that it -would flatter him to be able to write some new -works, such as symphonies and an oratorio, for -the Society which embraced a greater number -of able musicians than almost any other in -Europe.</p> - -<p>His diary covering this period to 1818, published -in the work <i>Die Beethovenfeier und die -deutsche Kunst</i>, because of the many items of -interest it has in it, contains these characteristic -lines: “Drop operas and everything else. -Write only in your own style.” But even the -sketches of the Seventh Symphony had the remark -accompanying them: “2. Symphony in -D minor,” and those of the eighth: “Symphony -in D minor—3. Symphony.” Belonging to -the years succeeding 1812, we find drafts of the -<i>scherzo</i> of the Ninth Symphony. The headings -above given undoubtedly had reference to this -last, but the sketches of the first movement, -decisive of the character of such a work, are -not to be found until the year 1816, but then -they are found with the physiognomy so masculine -and so full of character which distinguishes -this “symphony for London.” He once said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span> -of Englishmen that they were, for the most -part, “clever fellows;” and he—of whom -Zelter wrote to Goethe, that “he must have -had a man for his mother”—felt that, in England, -he, as a man, had to do with men, and, -as an artist, to enter the list with Handel, -whose own powerful influence was due to his -decided manfulness of character. And then, -had not England produced a tragic poet like -Shakespeare, whom Beethoven loved above all -others? Deep, tragic earnestness, and a masculine -struggle with fate, are here the fundamental -tone and design of the whole. “And -then a cowl when thou closest thy unhappy -life”—such is the conclusion of the lines -quoted above, in which he says that he must -write “only in his own style.”</p> - -<p>And now, in July, 1817, came from London -the “direct commission” he had so long endeavored -to obtain. The Society desired -to send him a proof of their esteem and -gratitude for the many happy moments his -works had given them to enjoy, and invited -him to come to London to write two great -symphonies, promising him an honorarium of -three hundred pounds sterling. Beethoven<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> -immediately accepted the commission, and -assured them that he would do his very best -to execute it—honorable as it was to him, and -coming as it did from so select a society of -artists—in the worthiest manner possible. -He promised to go to work immediately. -“He believed that he could nowhere receive -the distinction which his gigantic genius—in -advance of his age by several centuries—deserved, -as he could in Great Britain. The -respect shown him by the English people, -he valued more than that of all Europe -besides. The feeling he had of his own -powers may, indeed, have contributed to make -him prefer the English nation to all others, -especially as they showered so many marks of -distinction on him.” Thus writes one of his -most intimate friends in Vienna, Baron Von -Zmeskall, already mentioned; and certain it -is that he did his very best on this work. It, -as well as the symphony in C minor, is of -the true Beethoven type—more so, perhaps, -than any other of his works—the full picture -of his own personal existence and of the -tragedy of human life in general. This work -was followed by the Tenth Symphony, the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span> -“poetical idea,” at least, of which we know. -The first movement was intended to represent -a “feast of Bacchus,” the <i>adagio</i> a <i>cantique -ecclesiastique</i>, a church hymn, and the <i>finale</i> -the reconciliation of the antique world, which -he esteemed so highly with the spirit of -Christianity, into the full depth of which he -came to have a deeper insight every day that -passed. We see that he had lofty plans, and -that no poet ever soared to sublimer heights -than he. We must bear these great plans -and labors of Beethoven in mind if we would -rightly understand his subsequent life—if we -would comprehend how, in the desolate and -distracted existence he was compelled henceforth -to lead, he did not become a victim of -torpidity, but that, on the contrary, the elasticity -of his genius grew greater and greater, -and that his creations gained both in depth -and perfection.</p> - -<p>Thus do we see with our own eyes at least -one of his works born of his own life.</p> - -<p>The songs <i>Ruf von Berge</i> and <i>So oder so</i>, -were composed in the winter of 1816-17; and -in the following spring, after the sudden death -of one of his friends, the chorus <i>Rasch tritt<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span> -der Tod</i>, from Schiller’s Tell. “O God, help -me! Thou seest me forsaken by all mankind. -O hard fate, O cruel destiny! No, no, no, -my unhappy condition will never end. Thou -hast no means of salvation but to leave here. -Only by so doing canst thou rise to the height -of thy art. Here thou art immersed in vulgarity. -Only one symphony, and then away, -away, away!” Thus does he write in his -diary. He next, in 1817, finished the quintet -fugue, op. 137, and, in 1818, the great -sonata for the Hammer-clavier, op. 106. The -<i>adagio</i> of the latter is the musical expression -of earnest prayer to God. Its first movement -shows how he had soared once more to the -heights of his art. “The sonata was written -under vexatious circumstances,” he says to his -friend Ries; and to a younger fellow-artist, -the composer Schnyder von Wartensee: “Go -on. There is no calmer, more unalloyed or -purer joy than that which arises from ascending -higher and higher into the heaven -of art.” Such, too, was his mood in those -days when he promised his friend Zmeskall -the trio for the piano in C minor, his op. 1, -worked over into the quintet op. 104; for he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> -wrote: “I rehearse getting nearer the grave, -without music, every day.” In keeping with -this is the song, <i>Lisch aus, mein Licht</i>, “Put -out my light,” which also belongs to this -period. The supplication: “O hear me always, -Thou unspeakable One, hear me, thy -unhappy creature, the most unfortunate of all -mortals,” found in his diary, belongs to this -same time. It is now easy to see that he was -in a very suitable frame of mind when he -resolved, in 1818, to write a solemn mass for -the occasion of the inauguration of his distinguished -pupil as Archbishop of Olmutz. -It was the “little court,” the “little orchestra” -for which he wished to write the music “for -the honor of the Almighty, the Eternal, the -Infinite;” for the Archduke thought of making -him his <i>capellmeister</i> there. After four years’ -labor, the <i>Missa Solemnis</i>, op. 123, was finished. -Beethoven called it “<i>l’œuvre le plus -accompli</i>, my most finished work.” And, like -the <i>Fidelio</i>, it is deserving of this characterization, -but more on account of the pains -taken with it and the labor expended on it -than of its matter.</p> - -<p>“Sacrifice again all the trivialties of social<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span> -life to thy art. O, God above all! For Providence -eternal omnisciently orders the happiness -or unhappiness of mortal men.” With -these words from the Odyssey, he resolved -to consecrate himself to this great work. -And it was a resolve in very deed. For, as -in opera, he knew that he was here bound -by traditionary forms—forms which, indeed, -in some details afforded rich food to his own -thoughts, but which, on the whole, hindered -the natural flow of his fancy. We now -approach a period in Beethoven’s life in -which he was strangely secluded from the -world. The painter, Kloeber, the author of -the best known portrait of Beethoven, and -which is to be found in <i>Beethoven’s Brevier</i>—it -was painted during the summer of 1818—once -saw him throw himself under a fir -tree and look for a longtime “up into the -heavens.” In some of the pages of his written -conversations—for it was now necessary for him -to have recourse to putting his conversations -on paper more frequently on account of his increasing -deafness—he wrote in the winter of -1819-20: “Socrates and Jesus were patterns -to me;” and after that: “The moral law within<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> -us and the starry heavens above us.—Kant!!!” -Just as on the 4th of March, 1820, he wrote:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first">“Ernte bald an Gottes Thron</div> -<div class="verse">Meiner Leiden schoenen Lohn.”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>This was the time of the struggles with the -mother of his “son” and of the heartfelt sorrow -he had to endure on account of the moral -ruin of the poor boy himself, who, always -going from the one to the other, did not really -know to whom he belonged, and who, therefore, -deceived both. “From the heart—may -it in turn appeal to hearts!” He wrote these -words on the score of the mass; and Schindler, -who was now his companion, says that -“the moment he began this work his whole -nature seemed to change.” He would sit in -the eating-house sunk in deep thought, forget -to order his meals, and then want to pay for -them. “Some say he is a fool,” wrote Zelter -to Goethe in 1819. And Schindler tells us -“he actually seemed possessed in those days, -especially when he wrote the fugue and the -<i>Benedictus</i>.” That fugue, <i>Et vitam senturi</i> -(life everlasting!) is the climax of the work, -since the depiction of the imperishableness -and inexhaustibleness of Being was what Beethoven’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> -powerful mind was most used to. -The wonderful <i>Benedictus</i>, (Blessed is he who -cometh in the name of the Lord) whose tones -seem to float down from heaven to earth, the -bestowal of help from on high, was subsequently -the model used by Wagner for his -descent of the Holy Grail, the symbol of divine -grace, in the prelude to the <i>Lohengrin</i>. -“When I recall his state of mental excitement, -I must confess that I never before, and never -after this period of his complete forgetfulness -of earth, observed anything like it in him.” -So says Schindler. They had gone to visit -him in Baden, near by, whither he repaired -in the interest of his health, and where he -loved so well to “wander through the quiet -forest of firs” and think out his works. It -was four o’clock in the afternoon. The door -was closed, and they could hear him “singing, -howling, stamping” at the fugue. After they -had listened to this “almost horrible” scene, -the door opened, and Beethoven stood before -them, with trouble depicted on his countenance. -He looked as if he had just gone -through a struggle of life and death. “Pretty -doings here; everybody is gone, and I have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span> -not eaten a morsel since yesterday noon,” he -said. He had worked the previous evening -until after midnight; and so the food had -grown cold and the servants left in disgust.</p> - -<p>His work assumed greater and greater dimensions -as he himself gradually rose to the -full height of the subject. He no longer -thought of completing it for the installation -ceremonies. It became a grand fresco painting—a -symphony in choruses on the words -of the mass. He now began to work more -calmly, and to compose at intervals other -works, in order to quiet his over-excited mind -and to earn a living for his “dear” nephew. -And thus, while he was composing his mass, he -produced not only the <i>Variirten Themen</i>, op. -105 and 107, which Thompson, of Edinburg—who -had sent Beethoven the Scotch songs -like op. 108 to be arranged—had ordered, but -also the three <i>Last Sonatas</i>, op. 109, dedicated -to Bettina’s niece, Maximiliane Brentano, to -whose excellent father he was indebted for -ready assistance during these years of his -pecuniary embarrassment; also op. 110, which -was finished at Christmas, 1821, as op. 111 -was on the 13th of January, 1822. It is said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> -that he entertained a higher opinion himself -of these sonatas than of his previous ones. -They are greatly superior, however, only in -some of their movements; and they are written -in the grand, free style of that period, especially -the <i>arietta</i> in the last opus, the variations -of which are real pictures of his own -soul. In the intervals between them, however, -we find some trifles such as the <i>Bagatellen</i>, -op. 119, which his pecuniary condition -made it imperative he should compose, since, -“as a brave knight by his sword, he had to -live by his pen.” And even the “<i>33 Veraenderungen</i>” -(variations), op. 120, on the works -of Diabelli, of the year 1822-23, are more the -intellectual play of the inexhaustible fancy of -an artist than the work of the genuine gigantic -creative power which Beethoven undoubtedly -possessed. He had overtaxed his strength -working on the mass, and thus exhausted it -for a moment. The two chorus-songs, op. -121<sup>b</sup> and op. 122, the <i>Opferlied</i> and <i>Bundeslied</i>, -which date from the year 1822-23, bear -the stamp of occasional compositions, which -they, in fact, are.</p> - -<p>But in the meantime the lion had roused<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span> -himself again. He now only needed to give -the finishing touch to the Mass, and in the -spring of 1823 the entire work was completed. -The summer of 1822 found him fully engaged -on the composition of that monument -to his genius, the Ninth Symphony. Freedom -from the torment of exhausting labor, and the -entire surrender of himself to “his own style,” -gave his fancy back its old elasticity and all -its productive power. Scarcely any year of -his life was more prolific of works than this -year 1822.</p> - -<p>“Our Beethoven seems again to take a -greater interest in music, which, since the -trouble with his hearing began to increase, he -avoided almost as a woman-hater avoids the -sex. To the great pleasure of all, he improvised -a few tunes in a most masterly manner.” -Thus do we read in the Leipzig <i>Musikzeitung</i>, -in the spring of 1822, and the Englishman, -John Russell, gives us a charming description -of such an evening in the Cotta <i>Beethovenbuch</i>. -Weisse’s droll poem, <i>Der Kuss</i> (the kiss) op. -128, is found among the serious sketches of -this year. And now he received a whole -series of commissions. An English captain,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> -named Reigersfeld, wanted a quartet, and -Breitkopf and Haertel an operatic poem worthy -of his art, before he “hung up his harp -forever.” Others asked for other kinds of -music. “In short,” he writes to his brother -Johann, “people are fighting to get works from -me, happy, unhappy man that I am. If my -health is good, I shall yet be able to feather -my nest.” Friederich Rochlitz brought him, -too, a commission from Breitkopf and Haertel -to write “music for Faust.” Rochlitz gives -us a very interesting account of Beethoven’s -appearance and whole mode of life at this -time. Not Beethoven’s neglected, almost savage -exterior, he says, not his bushy black -hair, which hung bristling about his head, -would have stirred him; what stirred him was -the whole appearance of the deaf man who, -notwithstanding his infirmity, brought joy to -the hearts of millions—pure, intellectual joy. -But when he received the commission, he -raised his hand high up and exclaimed: -“That might be worth while. But I have -been intending for some time to write three -other great works—two great symphonies, very -different from each other, and an oratorio. I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span> -shudder at the thought of beginning works of -such magnitude. But once engaged on them, -I shall find no difficulty.” He spoke of the -Ninth Symphony, to which he had now begun -to give the finishing touches, in all earnestness.</p> - -<p>This was interrupted for a short time by -the overture, <i>Zur Weihe des Hauses</i> (op. 124), -for the opening of the renovated Josephstadt -theater with the “Ruins of Athens,” of 1812. -It is the portal to the temple in which art is -praised as something consecrated to the service -of mankind—as a thing which may lift -us for blissful moments into the region of the -purifying and elevating influences of higher -powers. Even in this work, which dates from -September, 1822, we may hear the solemn -sound and rhythm of the Ninth Symphony. -And, indeed, after a memorandum on the -“Hungarian Story,” we find in the sketches -of it the words, “Finale, <i>Freude schoener Goetterfunken</i>,” -together with the wonderfully simple -melody itself, which sounds to humanity’s -better self like the music of its own redemption. -Beethoven’s own nature was deeply -moved at this time. Weber’s <i>Freischuetz</i>,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> -with Wilhelmine Schroeder, afterwards so -celebrated, had excited the greatest enthusiasm. -Rossini’s reception in Vienna was “like -an opeotheosis;” and Beethoven was determined -to let the light of his genius shine forth, -which he could do only by writing a work -“in his own style.” The world was “his for -another evening,” and he was anxious to turn -that evening to account. And, indeed, had -he not a world of sorrows to paint—sorrows -which actual life had brought to him? He -had also a world of joys—joys vouchsafed to -him by his surrendering of himself to a higher -life.</p> - -<p>An incident which occurred during this fall -of 1822 tells us something of this gloomy night -of his personal existence. Young Schroeder-Devrient, -encouraged by her success with -<i>Pamina</i> and <i>Agathe</i>, had chosen the <i>Fidelio</i> -for her benefit, and Beethoven himself was to -wield the baton. Schindler tells us how, even -during the first scene of the opera, everything -was in confusion, but that no one cared to -utter the saddening words: “It’s impossible -for you, unfortunate man.” Schindler finally, -in response to Beethoven’s own questioning,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> -wrote something to that effect down. In a -trice, Beethoven leaped into the parterre, saying -only: “Quick, out of here!” He ran -without stopping to his dwelling, threw himself -on the sofa, covered his face with his two -hands, and remained in that position until -called to table. But, even at table, he did not -utter a word. He sat at it, the picture of the -deepest melancholy. Schindler’s account of -the incident closes thus: “In all my experience -with Beethoven, this November day is -without a parallel. It mattered not what disappointments -or crosses misfortune brought -him, he was ill-humored only for moments, -sometimes depressed. He would, however, -soon be himself again, lift his head proudly, -walk about with a firm step, and rule in the -workshop of his genius. But he never fully -recovered from the effect of this blow.”</p> - -<p>The performance itself brought out, for -the first time, in all its completeness, musico-dramatic -art, in the representation of the -scene, “Kill first his wife.” Richard Wagner, -who has so highly developed this musico-dramatic -art, admits that he acquired the real -idea of plastic shaping for the stage from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> -Schroeder-Devrient. To it, also, Beethoven, -owed it that he was invited, during the same -winter (1822-23), to compose a new opera. It -was Grillparzer’s <i>Melusine</i>, but the intention -to compose it was never carried into effect.</p> - -<p>We have now reached the zenith of the -life of Beethoven as an artist. Besides the -Ninth Symphony, he finished only the five -last quartets which beam in their numerous -movements like “the choir of stars about the -sun.” The welcome incentive to the composition -of these last came to him just at this time -from the Russian, Prince Gallitizin, who gave -him a commission to write them, telling him -at the same time to ask what remuneration he -wished for his work. But the Symphony filled -up the next following year, 1823. Nothing -else, except the “fragmentary ideas” of the -<i>Bagatellen</i>, op. 126, engaged him during that -time.</p> - -<p>“To give artistic form only to what we -wish and feel, that most essential want of the -nobler of mankind,” it is, as he wrote himself -to the Archduke at this time, that distinguishes -this mighty symphony, and constitutes, -so to speak, the sum and substance of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span> -his own life and intuition. This symphony -was soon connected in popular imagination -with Goethe’s Faust, as representing the tragic -course of human existence.</p> - -<p>And when we hear in mind how closely -related just here the musician was to the poet, -this interpretation of the work, given first by -Richard Wagner on the occasion of its presentation -in 1846 in Dresden, seems entirely -warranted. What was there of which life had -not deprived him? The words it had always -addressed to him were these words from Faust: -<i>Entbehren sollst du, sollst entbehren</i> (renounce -thou must, thou must renounce). He now -wished to paint a full picture of this vain -struggle with relentless fate in tones, and what -he had just gone through in his own experience -enabled him to do it in living colors. All -the recollections of his youth crowded upon -him. There were the “pretty lively blonde” -whom he had met in Bonn; Countess Giulietta, -who had a short time before returned -to Bonn with her husband; and his “distant -loved one” in Berlin! A promenade through -the lovely Heiligenstadt valley, in the spring -of 1823, brought to his mind anew pictures<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span> -of the reconciling power of nature, as well as -of the <i>Pastorale</i> and the C minor symphony. -He was now able to form an idea of their -common meaning, and to put an interpretation -on them very different from his first idea and -first interpretation of them. He began to have -a much deeper insight into the ultimate questions -and enigmas of existence.</p> - -<p>But, all of a sudden, his humor left him. -He refused to receive any visitors. “Samothracians, -come not here; bring no one to me,” -he wrote to Schindler, from the scene of his -quiet life in the country. What had never -happened before, even when he was in the -highest stages of intellectual exaltation, now -came to pass: he repeatedly returned from his -wanderings through the woods and fields without -his hat. “There is nothing higher than -to approach nearer to the Deity than other -men, and from such proximity to spread the -rays of the Deity among the human race.” -In these words, directed to the Archduke -Rudolph, he summed up his views of his art -and what he wished to accomplish in it. It -was everything to him—a language, consolation, -admonition, light and prophecy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>This we learn most clearly from the Ninth -Symphony, which he finished at this time, in -Baden.</p> - -<p>From the dark abyss of nothing arises the -Will, infinite Will: and with it the struggles -and the sorrow of life. But it is no longer -personal sorrow—for what is personal sorrow -compared with the sorrow of the world as -known to a great mind, experienced by a great -heart?—it is the struggle for a higher existence -which we “mortals have to engage in -against the infinite spirit.” “Many a time -did I curse my Creator because he has made -his creatures the victims of the merest accidents.” -Cries of anguish and anger like this—the -cries of great souls whose broad vision is -narrowed by the world, and whose powerful -will is hampered—find utterance here. “I -shall take fate by the jaws,” he says again, -and how immense is the struggle as well as -the consciousness of a higher, inalienable possession, -which lives as a promise in the breasts -of all! Such blows, murmurs, prayers, longings, -such despair; and then, again, such -strength and courage after trial, had never -before been expressed in music. In the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> -Ninth Symphony, we hear the voices of the -powers which through all ages have been the -makers of history; of the powers which preserve -and renovate the life of humanity; and -so the Will, the Intellect, man, after a terrible -effort and concentration of self, stands firmly -before us, bold and clear-eyed—for Will is -the world itself.</p> - -<p>But when we see the man Beethoven, we -find him divided against himself. We have -often heard him say that he found the world -detestable; and we shall again hear him express -his opinion on that subject plainly -enough, in this his work.</p> - -<p>In the second movement, which he himself -calls only <i>allegro vivace</i>, and which, indeed, is -no <i>scherzo</i>, not even a Beethoven-like one, -but rather a painting, we have a dramatic -picture of the earthly world in the whirl of -its pleasures, from the most ingenuous joy of -mere existence—such as he himself frequently -experienced in such fullness that he leaped -over chairs and tables—to the raging, uncontrollable -Bacchanalian intoxication of enjoyment. -But we have in it also a fresco painting -of the “dear calmness of life,” of joy in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> -the existing, of exultation and jubilation as -well as of the demoniacal in sensuous life and -pleasure. But what nutriment and satisfaction -this splendid symphony affords to a noble -mind! It carries such a man from the arms of -pleasure to “the stars,” from art to nature, -from appearance to reality.</p> - -<p>This ideal kingdom of the quiet, sublime -order of the world, which calms our minds -and senses, and expresses our infinite longings, -is heard in the <i>adagio</i> of the work. And -when, in an incomparably poetical union to -the quiet course of the stars and to the eternally -ordered course of things, the longing, -perturbed human heart is contrasted by a -second melody, with a wealth of inner beauty -never before imagined, we at last see the soul, -so to speak, disappear entirely before itself, -dissolved in the sublimity of the All. The -steps of time, expressed by the rhythm of the -final chords, sound like the death knell of the -human heart. Its wants and wishes are silenced -in the presence of such sublimity, and sink to -naught.</p> - -<p>But the world is man, is the heart, and -wants to live, to live! And so here the final<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> -echo is still the longing, sounding tones of -human feeling.</p> - -<p>Beethoven himself tells us the rest of the -development of this powerful tragedy, and -thus confirms the explanation of it we have -given, as well as the persistence of ultimate -truth in his own heart; for in it we find—after -the almost raging cry of all earthly existence -in the orchestral storm of the beginning of -the <i>finale</i>, which was even then called a “feast -of scorn at all that is styled human joy”—in -the sketches, as text to the powerful recitatives -of the contra-bassos: “No, this confusion reminds -us of our despairing condition. This is -a magnificent day. Let us celebrate it with -song.” And then follows the theme of the -first movement: “O no, it is not this; it is -something else that I am craving.” “The will -and consciousness of man are at variance the -one with the other, and the cause of man’s -despairing situation.” Next comes the <i>motive</i> -for the <i>scherzo</i>: “Nor is it this thing either; -it is but merriness and small talk”—the trifles -of sensuous pleasure. Next comes the theme of -the <i>adagio</i>: “Nor is it this thing either,” and -thereupon the words: “I myself shall sing—music<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span> -must console us, music must cheer us;” -and then the melody, <i>Freude schoener Goetterfunken</i>, -is heard, expressive of the newly-won -peace of the soul, descriptive of human -character in the full beauty of its simplicity -and innocence restored. Beethoven knew from -what depths of human nature music was born, -and what its ultimate meaning to mankind is.</p> - -<p>We are made to experience this more fully -still by the continuation of the <i>finale</i> which -represents the solution of the conflict of this -tragedy of life. For the “joy” that is here -sung plainly springs from its only pure and -lasting source, from the feeling of all-embracing -love—that feeling which, as religion, fills -the heart. The <i>Ihr stuerzt nieder, Millionen</i> -is the foundation, the germ (to express it in -the language of music of double counterpoint) -of the <i>Seid umschlungen, Millionen</i>, -and then the whole sings of joy as the transfiguration -of the earthly world by eternal love. -The will can accomplish nothing greater than -to sacrifice itself for the good of the whole. -To our great artist, the greatest and most wonderful -phenomenon in the world was not the -conqueror but the overcomer of the world;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> -and he knew that this spirit of love cannot die.</p> - -<p>This is celebrated by the <i>finale</i> as the last -consequence of the “struggle with fate,” of -man’s life-struggle. Is it claiming too much -to say that out of the spirit of this music a -“new civilization” and an existence more -worthy of human beings might be developed, -since it leads us back to the foundation and -source of civilization and human existence—to -religion? Beethoven was one of those -great minds who have added to the intellectual -possessions of our race in regions which extend -far beyond the merely beautiful in art. -When we bear this in mind, we can understand -why he wanted to write a tenth symphony -as the counterpart and final representation -of these highest conceptions of the nature -and goal of our race. This tenth symphony -he intended should transfigure the merely humanly -beautiful of the antique world in the -light of the refined humanity of modern ideas—the -earthly in the light of the heavenly. And -we may understand, too, what we are told of -himself, that as soon as cheerfulness beamed -in his countenance, it shed about him all the -charms of childlike innocence. “When he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span> -smiled,” we are told, “people believed not -only in him, but in humanity.” Occasionally -there would blossom on his lips a smile which -those who saw could find no other word to describe -but “heavenly.” So full was his heart -of hearts of the highest treasure of humanity.</p> - -<p>We shall see how the last quartets, which -follow now, represent this, his sublime transfigured -condition of soul, in the most varied -pictures, and disclose it to the very bottom.</p> - -<p>Of works composed during this period, we -may mention: March to “Tarpeja” and the -<i>Bardengeist</i> composed in 1813; <i>Gute Nachricht</i>, -<i>Elegischer Gesang</i>, <i>Kriegers Abschied</i>, -composed in 1814; Duos for the clarionette and -bassoon, which appeared in 1815; <i>Es ist vollbracht</i>, -<i>Sehnsucht</i>, Scotch songs, composed in -1815; <i>Der Mann von Wort</i>, op. 99. <i>Militaermarsch</i>, -composed in 1816; quintet op. 104 -(after op. 1, III), composed in 1817; <i>Clavierstueck</i> -in B, composed in 1818; <i>Gratulations-menuet</i>, -composed in 1822. It will be noticed -that the number of his works grows steadily -smaller according as their volume or their -depth of meaning grows greater. This last will -be evident especially from his subsequent quartets -which, so to speak, stand entirely alone.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V.</h2> - -<p class="ph1">1824-27.</p> - -<p class="ph1">THE LAST QUARTETS.</p> -</div> -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>Berlioz on the Lot of Artists—Beethoven Misunderstood—The -Great Concert of May, 1824—Preparation for It—Small -Returns—Beethoven Appreciated—First Performance of -the Missa Solemnis and of the Ninth Symphony—The -Quartets—An “Oratorio for Boston”—Overture on -B-A-C-H—Influence of His Personal Experience on His -Works—His Brother Johann—Postponement of His Journey -to London—Presentiment of Death—The Restoration -of Metternich and Gentz—His “Son”—Troubles with the -Young Man—Debility—Calls for Dr. Malfatti—Poverty—The -“Magnanimous” English—Calls a Clergyman—His -Death.</p> -</div> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Noble</span> souls fall usually only because they -do not know the mournful but incontestable -truth that, considering our present customs -and political institutions, the artist has more -to suffer in proportion as he is a genuine artist. -The more original and gigantic his -works are, the more severely is he punished -for the effects they produce. The swifter and -sublimer his thoughts, the more does he vanish -from the dim vision of the multitude.”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> -Thus did Beethoven’s direct successor in art, -Hector Berlioz, complain at the end of his -days; and to whom can what he says here be -applied with more propriety than to our artist, -especially at this period of his life, when his -thoughts took their sublimest flight? His -action now seemed indeed to assure him unconditional -victory, even in his immediate -environment—we are approaching the celebrated -concert of May, 1824—but how soon -shall we see him again misunderstood by the -crowd and, as a consequence, lonelier than ever -before.</p> - -<p>He had again enjoyed to the full the “higher -life which art and science imply, and which -they give it to us to hope for;” and he, in -consequence, became exceedingly neglectful of -himself; so that his brother found it necessary -to say to him: “You must buy yourself a new -hat to-morrow. The people make merry at your -expense because you have so bad a hat.” But -now that the “colossal creation” was finished, -even to the last iota, he began to be in better -humor, to stroll about the streets gazing at the -show-windows, and to salute many an old -friend, as, for instance, his former teacher,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> -Schenk, more warmly. His name was now -more frequently on the lips of friends, and -when it was known that a great symphony, as -well as the Mass, was finished, people recalled -the boundless rapture of the years 1813-14; -and a letter signed by men of the higher -classes of society—men whom Beethoven himself -loved and honored—invited him, in February, -1824, to abstain no longer from the -performance of something great. And, indeed, -the Italian <i>roulade</i> and all kinds of -purely external <i>bravoura</i> had obtained supremacy -in Vienna. The “second childhood of -taste” threatened to follow the “golden age -of art.” It was hoped that home art would -receive new life from Beethoven, who, in his -own sphere, had no equal, and that, thanks to -his influence, the true and the beautiful would -rule supreme again.</p> - -<p>Schindler found him with the manuscript -in his hand. “It is very pretty! I am glad!” -Beethoven said, in a very peculiar tone. And -another hope was bound up with this. He -hoped to obtain compensation for his long -labor, and, in this way, leisure to produce -something new worthy of his genius. The preparation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> -for the concert was attended by very -much that was disagreeable. His own want of -resolution and suspicious manner contributed -their share to this. With the most splenetic -humor, he writes: “After six weeks’ vexation, -I am boiled, stewed, roasted.” And when -several of his more intimate friends, like Count -Lichnowsky, Schuppanzigh and Schindler, resorted -to a little subterfuge to make him come -to some resolve, he said: “I despise deceit. -Visit me no more. And let him visit me no -more. I’m not giving a party.” But, on the -other hand, the first violinists of the city—Schuppanzigh, -Mayseder and Boehm, who is -still living—together with <i>capellmeister</i> Umlauf, -were at the head of the orchestra, while -a large number of amateurs were ready to lend -their assistance at a moment’s notice. Their -motto was: “Anything and everything for -Beethoven!” And thus the preparations for -the performance of Beethoven’s great creations -were begun.</p> - -<p>“Just as if there were words beneath them?” -asked Schindler, speaking of the powerful recitatives -of the basses in the Ninth Symphony. -Henriette Sontag and Caroline Unger, both<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span> -subsequently so celebrated, found it exceedingly -difficult to execute the solos in the Mass -and the <i>finale</i>; but to all prayers that they -might be changed, Beethoven had only one -answer: “No!” To which Henriette finally -replied: “Well, in God’s name, let us torment -ourselves a little longer, take a little more -trouble, and attempt it.” The performance -was to occur on the 7th of May. That “rare, -noble man,” Brunswick had, as he said, brought -“four ears” with him, that he might not lose a -single note. Frau von Ertmann was again in -Vienna. The boxes were all soon taken, and -many seats were sold at a premium. Beethoven -personally invited the court. His trusted -servant, who was specially helpful to him on -this occasion, said to him: “We shall take -your green coat with us, too; the theater is -dark; no one can see us. O my great master, -not a black dress coat have you in your possession.” -The house was crowded to over-fullness. -Only the court box was almost empty, -on account of the Emperor’s absence. Beethoven’s -attendant again tells us: “His reception -was more than imperial; at the fourth -round of applause, the people became vociferous.”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> -And Boehm tells us how the tears -rushed into his own and Mayseder’s eyes at -the very beginning. And what a success the -performance was!</p> - -<p>In one of the accounts of it that have come -down to us, we read: “Never in my life did -I hear such tempestuous and at the same time -such hearty applause. At one place—where -the kettle-drums so boldly take up the rhythmic -<i>motive</i> alone—the second movement of -the symphony was totally interrupted by the -applause; the tears stood in the eyes of the -performers; Beethoven, however, contrived to -wield the baton until Umlauf called his attention -to the action of the audience by a motion -of his hand. He looked at them and bowed -in a very composed way.” At the close the -applause was greater still. Yet, strange to -say, the man who was the cause of it all again -turned his back to the enthusiastic audience. -At this juncture, the happy thought occurred -to Unger to wheel Beethoven about towards -the audience, and to ask him to notice their -applause with their waving of hats and handkerchiefs. -He testified his gratitude simply -by bowing, and this was the signal for the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> -breaking forth of a jubilation such as had -scarcely ever before been heard in a theater, -and which it seemed would never end. The -next day, we read, in his conversation leaves, -what some one said to him: “Everybody is -shattered and crushed by the magnitude of -your works.”</p> - -<p>And now, what of the pecuniary success of -the performance? It was measured by about -one hundred and twenty marks. The expenses -attending it had been too great. Besides, regular -subscribers, entitled to their seats in boxes, -did not pay a farthing for this concert. The -court did not send in a penny, which, however, -they were wont not to fail to do on the occasion -of the commonest benefits. When Beethoven -reached his home, Schindler handed him the -account of the receipts. “When he saw it, he -broke down entirely. We took him and laid -him on the sofa. We remained at his side -until late in the night. He asked neither for -food nor for anything else. Not an audible -word did he utter. At last, when we observed -that Morpheus had gently closed his eyes, we -retired. His servant found him next morning -in his concert toilette (his green dress coat)<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> -in the same place, asleep.” This account is -by Schindler, who, together with the young -official, Joseph Huettenbrenner, one of Franz -Schubert’s intimate friends, had taken him -home on this occasion.</p> - -<p>This was the first performance of the <i>Missa -Solemnis</i> (op. 123) and of the Ninth Symphony -(op. 125). It took place on the 7th of May, -1824. The fact that when the performance -was repeated on the 24th of May, spite of the -additional attraction of the “adored” tenor, -David, who sang Rossini’s <i>Di tanti palpiti</i>, -(after so much pain), the house was half empty, -shows that, after all, it was more curiosity -to see the celebrated deaf man than real taste -for art which had filled it the first time. Like -Mozart, Beethoven did not live long enough to -pluck even the pecuniary fruits of his genius. -Not till 1845 did the magnanimous liberality -of one who was really permeated by his spirit -bring it to pass that a monument was erected -to him in his native city, Bonn, as that same -liberality has brought it to pass that one has -been erected to him, in our own day, in his -second home, Vienna. We have reference to -the royal gift and to the equally rich playing -of Franz Liszt.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>It now became more imperative for him to -give his attention to those compositions which -promised him some immediate return, to the -quartets, to write which he had received a -commission from persons as noted for their -generosity to him as for their love of art. -These and the op. 127 occupy the first -place in this brilliant constellation of art. -“I am not writing what I should prefer -to write. I am writing for the money I -need. When that end is satisfied, I hope -to write what is of most importance to -myself and to art—Faust.” He thus expressed -himself when engaged in the composition -of the Ninth Symphony, and there -was some talk of his writing an “Oratorio for -Boston.” And so, likewise, the German Melusine -and an opera for Naples, the Requiem, -the tenth symphony, and an overture on -B-A-C-H remained projects and no more. -But they were also a great prospect for the future -while he was engaged in the labors of -the day; and they exercised no inconsiderable -influence on the composition of the quartets -themselves. The more he became interested -in these works—and what works were better<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> -calculated to interest a composer of such poetic -power—the more did these ideas become -interwoven into the works themselves. They -generated the peculiarly grand style and -the monumental character which distinguish -these last quartets. The soul-pictures from -Faust especially are here eloquently re-echoed -in the most sublime monologues. And, indeed, -the Prince, who had given him the commission -to write them, seemed to be the very -man to induce Beethoven to achieve what was -highest and best in art, even in such a narrow -sphere. For he had so arranged it that, even -before its production in Vienna, that “sublime -masterpiece,” the Mass, was publicly performed. -He informs us that the effect on the public -was indescribable; that he had never before -heard anything, not even of Mozart’s music, -which had so stirred his soul; that Beethoven’s -genius was centuries in advance of -his age, and that probably there was not -among his hearers a single one enlightened -enough to take in the full beauty of his music. -On the other hand, there reigned in -Vienna that weak revelry of the period of the -restoration, with its idol Rossini, a revelry<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span> -which had driven all noble and serious music -into the background. Besides, the Prince had -ordered that the costs for musical composition -should be curtailed “to any desired sum.”</p> - -<p>Beethoven now went to work in earnest, -and this composition was destined to be his -last.</p> - -<p>He had already made a great many drafts -of the works above mentioned, one for op. 127 -in the summer of 1822, one for the succeeding -quartet in A minor (op. 131), in the year -1823, when he was completing the Ninth -Symphony. Both op. 127 and the quartet -in A minor remind us, in more ways than -one, of the style of the Ninth Symphony—the -latter by its passion so full of pain, the former, -with its <i>adagio</i>, where the longing glances -to the stars have generated a wonderful, -melancholy peace of soul. The immediately -following third quartet (op. 130) stands out -before us like a newly created world, but one -which is “not of this world.” And, indeed, -the events in Beethoven’s life became calculated -more and more to liberate him, heart -and soul, from this world, and the whole composition -of the quartets appears like a preparation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span> -for the moment when the mind, -released from existence here, feels united with -a higher being. But it is not a painfully -happy longing for death that here finds expression. -It is the heartfelt, certain and -joyful feeling of something really eternal and -holy that speaks to us in the language of a -new dispensation. And even the pictures of -the world here to be found, be they serious or -gay, have this transfigured light—this outlook -into eternity. There is little in the -world of art, in which the nature of the -religious appears so fully in its substance and -essence without showing itself at any time -otherwise than purely human, and therefore -imperishable—never clothed in an accidental -and perishable garb. This explains how a -people not noted for any musical genius, but -who are able to understand the spirit and -meaning of music, the English, whom Beethoven -himself esteemed so highly, considered -his music “so religious.” And, indeed, his -music is religious in its ultimate meaning and -spirit. This character of his music finds its -purest and most striking expression in the last -quartets; and these quartets enable us to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> -understand the saying of Richard Wagner, -Beethoven’s truest pupil and successor, that -our civilization might receive a new soul from -the spirit of this music, and a renovation of -religion which might permeate it through and -through.</p> - -<p>We now pass to an account of the details -of the origin of these works.</p> - -<p>The bitterness which Beethoven was destined -henceforth to taste proceeded for the -most part from his own relatives. “God is -my witness, my only dream is to get away -entirely from you, from my miserable brother, -and from this despicable family which has -been tied to me,” he writes, in 1825, to his -growing nephew. We cannot refrain from -touching on these sad things, because now, -especially, they exercised the greatest influence -on his mind and on his pecuniary circumstances, -and because they finally led to a -catastrophe which played a part in bringing -about his premature death.</p> - -<p>His weak and “somewhat money-loving” -brother, Johann, had, indeed, in consequence -of Beethoven’s own violent moral interference, -married a silly wife. He found it impossible<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span> -to control her course, or even to get a divorce -from her, because he had made over to her a -part of his property, and was “inflexible” on -this very point. And so the brother was not -able, spite of many invitations, to induce -Beethoven to visit him even once on his estate -of Wasserhof, near Gneixendorf, on the Danube. -Ludwig wrote him, in the summer of -1823: “O accursed shame! Have you not a -spark of manhood in you? Shall I debase myself -by entering such company?” Yet, his -sister-in-law was “tamed” by degrees. But -the mother of the boy continued, now that he -was beginning to mature, to draw him into her -own baneful circle, and, as Beethoven wrote -in the summer of 1824, into the poisonous -breath of the dragon; and levity, falsehood -and unbecoming behavior towards his uncle, -who was at the same time a father to him, -followed. Carried away by the impulses of -his moral feelings, the latter was severe even -to harshness with the boy, and yet could not -dispense with the young man’s company because -of his increasing age and isolation. The -natural craving for love, moral severity and -the consciousness of paternal duty, wove the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span> -texture of which our artist’s shroud was made.</p> - -<p>The correspondence of this year, 1824, -turns principally upon the pecuniary realization -from his new, great works; for he wanted -to be in London in the fall without fail. We -have also a letter of his about his will, to his -lawyer, Dr. Bach, dated in the summer. He -writes: “Only in divine art is the power -which gives me the strength to sacrifice to the -heavenly muses the best part of my life.” -We hear also the celestial sounds of the -<i>adagio</i>, op. 127, ringing in our ears. He was -himself filled with this true “manna;” for -he exclaims in these same summer days, -“Apollo and the muses will not yet allow me -to be delivered over to the hands of death, for -I yet owe them what the Spirit inspires me -with and commands me to finish. I feel as if -I had written scarcely a note.” And we -even now find the sketches of those pieces -expressive of a happiness more than earthly, -or else, in gay irony, of contempt for the existing -world, or of the mighty building up of -a new world; the <i>alla danza tedesca</i> and the -<i>poco scherzando</i> of op. 130, as well as the -great fugue, op. 133, which was intended to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> -be the original <i>finale</i> of op. 130, and which, -by its superscription, “overture” and the -gigantic strides in its theme, reminds us of -the plan of the <i>Bachouverture</i>. Even the unspeakably -deep melancholy and, at the same -time, blissful, hopeful <i>cavatina</i> of the same -third quartet op. 130, blossoms forth now -from the feeling of his heart, which has taken -into itself the full meaning of the eternal, and -is filled with a higher joy. We here find, as -in the last tones of Mozart’s soul, the germs -of a new and deep-felt language of the heart, -a real personal language, acquired to humanity -for the expression of its deepest secrets, and -which, in our own day, has led to the most -touching soul-pictures in art—to the transfiguration -of Isolde, and to Bruennhild’s dying -song of redeeming love.</p> - -<p>A mighty seriousness overpowers him. The -desolate horrors that surround him endow him -with the power to understand more clearly -the higher tasks of the mind in which his -art had a living part. We see plainly that -his nature tends more and more towards the -one thing necessary—“All love is sympathy,” -sympathy with the sorrows of the world,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> -says the philosopher. And so while his vision -takes an immense sweep over the field -of existence, we see that an inexhaustible -source of patient goodness and of the kindest -and most heartfelt love, springs up within -him. “From childhood up it was my greatest -happiness to be able to work for others,” -he once said; and again when the overture, -op. 24, was reproduced: “I was very much -praised on this account, etc. But what is -that all to the great Master of Tones above—above—above! -rightly the Most High, when -here below it is used only for purposes of ridicule. -Most high dwarfs!!!” We here listen -to the sublime irony of his tones in op. 130, -but also to the lustrous mildness of the <i>adagio</i> -of op. 127, in which in the little movement in -E major, the human soul itself, filled with the -spirit of the Eternal, so to speak, opens its eyes -and looks upward. “I am what is, I am all -that is, that was and that will be. No mortal -man has lifted my veil. He comes from Himself -alone, and to this Only One all things -owe their existence.” Beethoven wrote out -this Egyptian saying in this summer of 1824, -framed it and placed it on his writing table<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span> -before him. He well knew what the really -creative and preserving deity in human life -is. That deity lived in his own most heartfelt -thought and feeling. It was to him a continual -source of bliss. It inspired his pen. To -it he was indebted for the poetic creations -which sprung unbidden from his brain.</p> - -<p>The quartet in A minor, op. 132, belongs to -the spring and summer of 1825. His journey -to London had been postponed. Schindler -gives as the reason of this, the “bad behavior -of his dearly beloved nephew, which had become -somewhat notorious.” How could his -“son” be abandoned, thus unguarded, to “the -poisonous breath of the dragon?” But as the -invitation was renewed, the Tenth Symphony -was again taken in hand, and from the -sketches of it now made, we know all that is -certain about it. It was intended to do no -less than to add the “beautiful to the good,” -to wed the spirit of Christianity to the beauty -of the antique, or rather to transfigure the -mere worldly beauty of the antique in the -light of the superterrestrial. We find, indeed, -a picture of this kind, a direct, intentional, -higher picture of the world in the <i>adagio,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span> -in modo lidico</i>, in the second quartet. It is -called the “Song of Thanksgiving of a Convalescent -to the Deity,” and is a choral between -the repetitions of which, ever richer -and more heartfelt, the joyful pulsations of -new life are expressed. Beethoven had been -seriously sick during this spring. His affection -for his nephew had assumed, in consequence -of one continual irritation of his feelings, -the nature of a passion which tormented -the boy to death, but which, like every passion, -brought no happiness to Beethoven himself. -The first movement of this quartet in -A minor is a psychological picture—a poem of -the passions—the consuming character of -which can be explained only by this very -condition of the artist’s own soul. And how -Beethoven’s creations always came from his -own great soul, that soul so fully capable of -every shade of feeling and excitement! The -account left us by the young poet, Rellstab, -written in the spring of 1825, gives us a perfect -description of the state Beethoven was in -at this time. He describes him “a man with a -kindly look, but a look also of suffering.” -Beethoven’s own letters confirm the correctness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> -of this description. “In what part of me -am I not wounded and torn?” he cries out to -his nephew, whose frivolity had already begun -to bear evil fruit. On another occasion he -said: “O, trouble me no more. The man -with the scythe will not respite me much -longer.”</p> - -<p>Notwithstanding this, however, or perhaps -because of this extreme excitement of his -whole nature, the summer of 1825 was very -rich in productions. “Almost in spite of himself,” -he had to write the quartet in C sharp -minor (op. 131); after that in B flat major (op. -130). The last quartet also, that in F major, -had its origin in that “inexhaustible fancy”—a -fancy which always tended to the production -of such works. Hence it is that the -number of movements increases. The second -has five; the third (B flat major), six; and the -fourth (C sharp minor), seven—as if the old -form of the suite, or the <i>divertimento</i> of the -septet was to be repeated. But a moment’s -comparison immediately shows the presence of -the old organic articulation of the form of the -sonata. These movements are in fact only -transitions to, and connecting links between,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span> -two colossal movements. They increase the -usual number of movements, although frequently -nothing more than short sentences, -and at times only a few measures. But the -introductory movement and the <i>finale</i> in the -quartet in A minor loom up like the pillars -of Hercules, and determine the impassioned -character and the dramatic style of the whole. -Beethoven himself called it a piece of art -worthy of him. The same may be said of op. 130, -when the great fugue, op. 133, is considered -a part of it, which in our day it should always -be conceded to be. And how immensely great -is this spirit when, in the quartet in C sharp -minor, it awakes from the most profound contemplation -of self to the contemplation of the -world and its pain.—“Through sorrow, joy!”</p> - -<p>We must refer the reader to the third -volume of <i>Beethoven’s Leben</i>, published in -Leipzig in 1877, for a detailed account of the -desolation of our artist, produced by the narrow -circle with which the restoration of Metternich -and Gentz surrounded him, at a time -when his own mind and feeling were expanding -to greater dimensions than ever before. -To the same source we must send him for a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span> -description of the full earnestness and greatness -of this last period in the life of our artist. -In that work was for the first time presented -to the public, from original sources, and especially -from the records of Beethoven’s written -conversations, extant in the Berlin library, -the comfortless—but at the same time, and -spite of continual torment, intellectually exalted—picture -of his character. “Words are -interdicted. It is a fortunate thing that tones -are yet free,” wrote Ch. Kuffner, the poet of -the oratorio, <i>Saul and David</i>, to him at this -time—a work in which he wished to give expression -both to his own relation as a human -being to his “David,” and to the wonder-working -nature of his art. The execution of -this plan was prevented only by death. The -general demoralization which had invaded -Vienna with the Congress made its effects felt -directly in his own circle, through the agency -of his nephew, and thus paved the way for -disaster to himself. “Our age has need of -vigorous minds to scourge these paltry, malicious, -miserable wretches,” he cries out at this -very time to his nephew, who had permitted -himself to make merry, in a manner well calculated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span> -to irritate, at the expense of a genuine -<i>faijak</i>—as Beethoven was wont now to call -the good Viennese—the music-dealer Haslinger; -and the matter had become public. -But he adds to the above: “Much as my heart -resists causing pain to a single human being.” -And, indeed, his heart knew nothing of such -anger or vengeance. It was always a real sympathizer -with the sorrows born of human -weakness—a sorrow which with him swelled -to the dimensions of the world-sorrow itself. -To this feeling his op. 130 in B flat major is -indebted for its series of pictures, in which -we see the world created, as it were, anew with -a bold hand, with the ironic, smiling, melancholy, -humorous, cheerful coloring of the -several pieces—pieces which, indeed, are no -mere sonata movements, but full pictures of -life and of the soul. The <i>cavatina</i> overtops -it as a piece of his own heart, which, as he -admitted himself to K. Holz, always drew from -him “fresh tears.”</p> - -<p>“Imitate my virtues, not my faults,” he -implores his “son.” Speaking of the rabble -of domestics, he says: “I have had to suffer -the whole week like a saint;” and, on another<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> -occasion, still more painfully: “May God be -with, thee and me. It will be all over soon -with thy faithful father.” His days, so -strangely divided between the loftiest visions -of the spirit and the meanest troubles of life, -henceforth render him more and more indifferent -to the latter. We find persons invade -his circle whom otherwise he would never -have permanently endured about him, and -who frequently led him into minor sorts of -dissipation even in public places. This reacted -on the nephew, whose respect for the -character of his “great uncle” could not long -stand a course of action apparently like his -own. But even now we see a picture in tones -of which one of the <i>faijaks</i>, the government -officer and dilettante, Holz, who copied it, -writes to Beethoven himself: “When one -can survey it thus calmly, new worlds come -into being.” We have reference to the quartet -in C sharp minor, op. 131. “With a look -beaming with light, dripping with sorrow and -joy,” young Dr. Rollett saw him at this -time in beautiful Baden, and, indeed, this -work, which he himself called the “greatest” -of his quartets, discloses to us, in a manner different<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span> -from the Ninth Symphony, the meaning -of his own life, which he here himself, as -Richard Wagner has said, displayed to us, a -wild melody of pleasure and pain. But we -now recognize more clearly that something -“like a vulture is devouring his heart.” We, -indeed, are drawing near to the catastrophe -which led to his premature end.</p> - -<p>As early as in the fall of 1825 he had witnessed -“stormy scenes.” An uncontrollable -love of gaming and a habit of loitering about -the streets had led the young man into worse -and worse courses, to falsehood and embezzlement. -And when these were discovered, -he secretly ran away from home. It was not -long, however, before the loving weakness of -his uncle called him back. The only effect -of this was henceforth to condemn Beethoven -himself to a slavish, too slavish life, one which -would have been a torment even to an ordinary -mortal, but which must have been doubly so -to a passionate, great man who was deaf. The -nephew found fault with his uncle, with his -“reproaches” and “rows.” He accused him -even of having led him into had company. -He dreaded other reproaches still and was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> -afraid of even personal violence. At last, one -day in the summer of 1826, the uncle received -the frightful news that his son had left his -dwelling with a pair of pistols, and intended to -take his own life. A long and terrible morning -was spent searching for the unfortunate -youth, who was finally led home, with a -wound in his head, from Baden. “It’s done -now. Torment me no longer with reproofs -and complaints,” he writes; and his disposition -and feeling may be inferred from the words -found in his conversation leaves: “I have -grown worse, because my uncle wanted to -make me better;” and from these others: -“He said it was not hatred, but a very different -feeling, that moved him against you.”</p> - -<p>The uncle, alas! understood these expressions -better than those about him. These had -only words of reproach for the reprobate deed. -“Evidences of the deepest pain were plainly -to be seen in his bent attitude. The man, firm -and upright in all the movements of his -body, was gone. A person of about seventy -was before us—yielding, without a will, the -sport of every breath of air.” So wrote -Schindler. Beethoven called for the Bible<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span> -“in the real language into which Luther -had translated it.” A few days later, we -find in his conversations the following memorandum: -“On the death of Beethoven.” -Did he mean his own death, or the death -of the beloved boy with whom he had, so to -speak, lost his own life? Be this as it -may, he now sang the deepest song of his -soul, and it was destined to be his dying song. -We refer to the <i>adagio</i> in the last quartet, op. -135. His harp soon after this grew silent, and -forever. Henceforth we have only projects or -fragments of works. But he touched it once -more, like King Gunther in the Edda, “seated -among serpents,” the most venomous of -which—the pangs of his own conscience—menaced -him with death. Among the pictures -in which he paints the meaning of a theme -similar to that of this <i>adagio</i> (pieces thus independent -of one another cannot rightly be -called variations), there is one whose minor -key and rhythm show it to be a funeral ceremony -of touching sublimity. But whatever guilt -he may have incurred he atoned for in his -heart of hearts by love. Such is this picture. -His soul is free. This the theme itself<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span> -tells us, eloquently and distinctly. Here the -soul, in melancholy stillness, revolves about its -own primeval source, and towards the close -plumes its wing for a happy, lofty flight, to -regions it has longed to enter. The other -pictures show us this full, certain and joyful -possession of one’s self, and the last even seems -to resolve the soul into its faculties when it -floats about the Eternal Being in the most -blissful happiness—a vision and condition -which, of all the means of expression of the -intellect, only music is able to describe, and -which proves to us that, in the case of our -artist, both fear and death had long been overcome.</p> - -<p>And thus it comes that a movement with -which there is none to be compared, one which -to our feelings is the richest and most perfect of -all movements, and, at the same time, of the -most brilliant transparency, made its way into -a work which otherwise shows no trace of the -magnitude of this his last effort. For the -<i>finale</i> is only a sham-play of those magic -powers which our master so well knew how -to conjure up, both in sublime horror and in -saving joy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>But his physical condition was soon destined -to be in keeping with the condition of his soul -above described. When, indeed, Karl was -convalescing as well as could be desired, and -he had decided to follow the military calling, -Beethoven’s friends noticed that, externally -at least, he again looked fresh and cheerful. -“He knew,” says Schindler, “how to rise -superior to his fate, and his whole character -bore an ‘antique dignity.’” But even now -he told the old friend of his youth, Wegeler, -that he intended “to produce only a few more -great works, and then, like an old child, to -close his earthly career somewhere among good -men.” And, indeed, his whole inner nature -seemed shattered. “What dost thou want? -Why dost thou hang thy head? Is not the -truest resignation sufficient for thee, even if -thou art in want?” This one conversation -with Karl tells us everything.</p> - -<p>Besides, serious symptoms of disease appeared. -A single blow, and his powerful, -manly form was shattered like that of the -meanest of mortals. And, indeed, that blow -was struck with almost unexpected violence.</p> - -<p>After his recovery, Karl was released by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> -the police on the express condition that he -would remain in Vienna only one day more. -His scar, however, prevented his entering the -service. Where, then, could he go, now that -the fall was just beginning? His brother, -Johann, invited him to his Wasserhof estate -near Gneixendorf. He could no longer answer -as he had once: <i>non possibile per me</i>—impossible -for me. But his sojourn in a country -house not constructed so as to guard against -the cold and dampness, a want of attention to -his growing infirmity, misunderstandings with -his brother’s wife, a violent quarrel with the -brother himself, who, after it, refused him the -use of his close carriage, and, lastly, his departure -in the cold of winter in the “devil’s -own worst conveyance.” All these causes conspired -to send our patient back to Vienna, the -subject of a violent fit of sickness. In addition -to all this, his nephew delayed to call a physician, -and none visited his sick bed until the -third day after his return. The doctor who -came was not Beethoven’s customary physician, -and totally misunderstood the nature of the -disease. Other shocks succeeded, and the consequence -was a violent attack of dropsy, the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span> -symptoms of which had first shown themselves -in Gneixendorf.</p> - -<p>His long, painfully long end was now beginning. -His constitution, powerful as that of -a giant, “blocked the gates against death” for -nearly three months. As labor of any kind -was out of the question, the arrival of Handel’s -works from London, which came to him -as a present, supplied him with the distraction -he wished for, in his own sphere. It -was not long before attacks of suffocation at -night distressed him and it became necessary -to perform the operation paracentesis. When -he saw the stream of water gush forth, he remarked, -with that sublimity of humor so peculiarly -his own, that the surgeon reminded -him of Moses, who struck the rock with his -rod; but, in the same humorous vein, he added: -“Better water from the stomach than from the -pen.” With this he consoled himself. But -he grew worse, and a medical consultation -seemed necessary to his friends. His own -heart forebode him no good, and he again -made his will on the 3rd of January, 1827. -He made his beloved nephew “sole heir to all -he possessed.” The nephew had gone to join<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span> -his regiment the day before, and this had a -good and quieting effect on Beethoven. He -knew that the young man would be best provided -for there, and testified his gratitude to -General von Stutterheim, who had received -him, by dedicating to that officer his quartet -in C sharp minor—his “greatest” quartet. -He urged that Dr. Malfatti should be called. -But he had had a falling out years before with -him, and the celebrated physician did not now -want to excite the displeasure of his colleagues. -Schindler tells us: “Beethoven wept bitterly -when I told him the doctor’s decision.”</p> - -<p>But Malfatti came at last, and, after they had -exchanged a few words, the old friends lay -weeping in each other’s arms. The doctor -prescribed iced punch to “quicken the organs -of digestion, enervated by too much medicine.” -The first physician who was called to -attend him tells us: “The effect of the prescription -was soon perceptible. He grew cheerful, -was full of witty sallies at times, and even -dreamt that he might be able to finish his oratorio -<i>Saul and David</i>.” From his written -conversations, we see that a great many of his -friends had gathered about his bed. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> -thought of finishing the Bach overture for one -of Schindler’s concerts, and even began to -busy himself with the Tenth Symphony once -more. He had again to experience the feeling -of pecuniary embarrassment while in this condition—an -embarrassment now more painful -than ever—brought about more especially by -the necessity of procuring a military outfit for -Karl. Gallitizin had, indeed, expressly promised -a short time before to send him money, -but he proved a “princely boaster;” and there -was no prospect of an income from any other -source. All his completed works had been -sold, and the little fortune he had laid aside -at the time of the Congress of Vienna was -irrevocably pledged to Karl by his will.</p> - -<p>His thoughts now turned to the “magnanimous” -English, who had already promised -him a “benefit.” His disease lasted a long time. -The third operation had been performed. His -long-continued solitude had alienated men -from him in Vienna; and, especially after his -experiences with the <i>Akademie</i> in 1824, he -had no confidence in the devotion and enthusiasm -for art of his second home. This -induced Schindler to write to England: “But<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span> -what afflicts him very much is, that no one -here concerns himself in the least about him; -and, indeed, this total absence of interest in -him is very surprising.” After this, we find -only his most intimate friends at his bedside. -Among these was Gleichenstein, who happened -to be in Vienna on a short visit. He writes: -“Thou must bless my boy as Voltaire blessed -Franklin’s son.” Hummel, who was traveling -and giving concerts, also saw him, and at -the sight of his suffering—he had just undergone -the fourth operation—burst into tears. -Beethoven had, at the moment of Hummel’s -visit, received a little picture as a present, and -he showed it to him, saying: “See, my dear -Hummel, the house in which Haydn was -born—the miserable peasant hut, in which so -great a man was born!”</p> - -<p>He asks his Rhenish publisher, Schott, who -had purchased his Mass and his Ninth Symphony, -and who was destined one day to become -the owner of the <i>Niebelungen</i>, for some -old wine to strengthen him. Malfatti recommended -an aromatic bath; and such a bath, it -seemed to him, would surely save him. But -it had the very opposite effect, and he was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span> -soon taken with violent pains. He wrote to -London: “I only ask God that I may be preserved -from want as long as I must here endure -a living death.” The response was one -thousand guldens from the Philharmonic Society -of that city “on account of the concert -in preparation.” “It was heart-rending to -see how he folded his hands and almost dissolved -in tears of joy and gratitude” when he -received them. This was his last joy, and the -excitement it caused accelerated his end. His -wound broke open again and did not close any -more. He felt this at first a wonderful relief, -and while he felt so he dictated some letters -for London, which are among the most beautiful -he has written. He promised to finish -the Tenth Symphony for the Society, and had -other “gigantic” plans, especially as regards -his Faust music. “That will be something -worth hearing,” he frequently exclaimed. The -overflow of his fancy was “indescribable, and -his imagination showed an elasticity which -his friends had noticed but seldom when he -was in health.” At the same time, the most -beautiful pictures of dramatic poetry floated -before his mind, and in conversation he always<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span> -represented his own works as filled with such -“poetic ideas.” But his sufferings soon became -“indescribably great. His dissolution was -approaching” with giant steps, and even his -friends could only wish for his end. Schindler -wrote to London on the 24th March: “He -feels that his end is near, for yesterday he said -to Breuning and me: ‘Clap your hands, -friends; the play is over.’” And further: -“He advances towards death with really Socratic -wisdom and unexampled equanimity.” -He could well be calm of heart and soul. He -had done his duty as an artist and as a man. -This same day he wrote a codicil to his will -in favor of his nephew; and now his friends -had only one deep concern—to reconcile him -with heaven. The physician approved, and -Beethoven calmly but resolutely answered: -“I will.”</p> - -<p>The clergyman came and Beethoven devoutly -performed his last religious duties. -Madame Johann van Beethoven heard him -say, after he had received the sacrament: -“Reverend sir, I thank you. You have -brought me consolation.”</p> - -<p>He then reminded Schindler of the letter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span> -to London, “May God bless them,” he said. -The wine he had asked for came. “Too bad! -too bad! it’s too late!” These were his very -last words. He fell immediately after into -such an agony that he was not able to utter a -single syllable more. On the 24th and 25th -of March, the people came in crowds to see -him again. Even the <i>faijaks</i>, Hoslinger and -Holz, as well as the poet Castelli, were among -them. “All three of us knelt before his bed,” -said Holz, subsequently, to Frau Linzbaur, -who, in relating the incident, added that when -Holz told it “his voice forsook him, and he -covered his face and wept. ‘He blessed us,’ -he said, with an effort; ‘we kissed his hand, -but never saw him again.’” This was the last -act of his life.</p> - -<p>“On the 26th, the little pyramidal clock, -which he had received as a present from -Princess Christiane Lichnowsky, stopped, as -it still does when a storm is approaching. -Schindler and Breuning had gone to the -churchyard, to select a grave for him. A -storm of loud thunder and hail came raging -on about five o’clock. No one but Frau van -Beethoven and the young composer, Anselm<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> -Huettenbrenner, who had hurried hither from -Graz to look upon his revered master once -more, were present in the room of the dying -man. A stroke of lightning illuminated it -with a lurid flash. The moribund opened his -eyes, raised his right hand, and looked up with -a fixed gaze for several seconds: the soul of -the hero would not out. But when his uplifted -hand fell back on the bed, his eyes half -closed. Not another breath! Not another -heart-beat! It was I that closed the half-open -eyes of the sleeper.” So says Huettenbrenner, -an eye-witness of our artist’s last moment. -This was the 28th of March, 1827.</p> - -<p>“No mourning wife, no son, no daughter, -wept at his grave, but a world wept at it.” -These are the words of the orator of the day -on the occasion of the unveiling of the first -monument to Beethoven in 1845, in Bonn. -But his funeral on that beautiful day in spring -was a very brilliant one. A sea of twenty -thousand human beings surged over the street -where now the votive church stands; for in -the <i>Schwarzspanierhaus</i> behind it, Beethoven -had lived during the last years of his life. -The leading <i>capellmeisters</i> of the city carried<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span> -the pall, and writers and musicians the torches.</p> - -<p>“The news of his death had violently shaken -the people out of their indifference,” says Dr. -G. von Breuning. And, indeed, it was, as a -poor old huxtress exclaimed when she saw the -funeral procession, “the general of musicians” -whom men were carrying to the grave! The -poet, Grillparzer, delivered the funeral oration. -He took for his text the words: “He was an -artist, and he was what he was only through -his art.” Our very being and our sublimest -feelings are touched when we hear the name -of</p> - -<p class="center">LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph1">FOOTNOTE:</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[A]</a></p> - -<p>To part from thee, my dear, this day,<br> -And know that I can’t with thee stay,<br> -Is more than my sad heart can bear.</p> - -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph3">TALES FROM FOREIGN TONGUES,</p> - -<p class="ph1">COMPRISING</p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span class="large"><b>MEMORIES;</b></span> A STORY OF GERMAN LOVE.<br> - -<span class="floatright"><span class="smcap">By</span> MAX MÜLLER.</span></p> -<p> </p> -<p><span class="large"><b>GRAZIELLA;</b></span> A STORY OF ITALIAN LOVE.<br> - -<span class="floatright"><span class="smcap">By</span> A. DE LAMARTINE.</span></p> -<p> </p> -<p><span class="large"><b>MARIE;</b></span> A STORY OF RUSSIAN LOVE.<br> - -<span class="floatright"><span class="smcap">By</span> ALEX. PUSHKIN.</span></p> -<p> </p> -<p><span class="large"><b>MADELEINE;</b></span> A STORY OF FRENCH LOVE.<br> - -<span class="floatright"><span class="smcap">By</span> JULES SANDEAU.</span></p> -<p> </p> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tiny"> -<p class="center"><i>In neat box, per set</i>, <span class="gap2"> <i>Price, $3.00.</i></span><br> -<i>Sold separately, per volume</i>, <span class="gap"> <i>Price, $1.25.</i></span></p> -<hr class="tiny"> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>Of “Memories” the London <i>Academy</i> says: “It is a prose poem. -* * * It is seldom that a powerful intellect produces any -work, however small, that does not bear some marks of its special bent, -and the traces of research and philosophy In this little story are apparent, -while its beauty and pathos show us a fresh phase of a many-sided -mind, to which we already owe large debts of gratitude.”</p> - -<p>Of “Graziella” the Chicago <i>Tribune</i> says: “It glows with love of the -beautiful in all nature. * * * It is pure literature, a -perfect story, couched in perfect words. The sentences have rhythm -and flow, the sweetness and tender fancy of the original. It is uniform -with ‘Memories,’ and it should stand side by side with that on the -shelves of every lover of pure, strong thoughts, put in pure, strong -words. ‘Graziella’ is a book to be loved.”</p> - -<p>Of “Marie” the Cincinnati <i>Gazette</i> says: “This is a Russian love tale, -written by a Russian poet. It is one of the purest, sweetest little narratives -that we have read for a long time. It is a little classic, and a Russian -classic, too. That is one of its charms, that it is so distinctively Russian. -We catch the very breezes of the Steppes, and meet, face to face, the high-souled, -simple-minded Russian.”</p> - -<p>Of “Madeleine” the New York <i>Evening Telegram</i> says: “More than -thirty years ago it received the honor of a prize from the French -Academy and has since almost become a French classic. It abounds -both in pathos and wit. Above all, it is a pure story, dealing with love -of the most exalted kind. It is, indeed, a wonder that a tale so fresh, so -sweet, so pure as this has not sooner been introduced to the English-speaking -public.”</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Sold by booksellers, or mailed, postpaid, on receipt of price, by</i></p> - -<p class="ph1">JANSEN, McCLURG & CO., Publishers, Chicago, Ill.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="center">“<i>It ought to be in the hands of every scholar and of every schoolboy.</i>”—<i>Saturday -Review, London.</i></p> -<hr class="tiny"> -<p class="ph3">Tales of Ancient Greece.</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By the REV. SIR G. W. COX, Bart., M.A.</span>,<br> -Trinity College, Oxford.</p> - -<hr class="tiny"> -<p class="center"><i>12mo., extra cloth, black and gilt</i>, <span class="gap"> <i>Price, $1.50.</i></span></p> -<hr class="tiny"> - -<p>“Written apparently for young readers, it yet possesses a charm of -manner which will recommend it to all.”—<i>The Examiner, London.</i></p> - -<p>“It is only when we take up such a book as this, that we realize how -rich in interest is the mythology of Greece.”—<i>Inquirer, Philadelphia.</i></p> - -<p>“Admirable in style, and level with a child’s comprehension. These -versions might well find a place in every family.”—<i>The Nation, New York.</i></p> - -<p>“The author invests these stories with a charm of narrative entirely -peculiar. The book is a rich one in every way.”—<i>Standard, Chicago.</i></p> - -<p>“In Mr. Cox will be found yet another name to be enrolled among -those English writers who have vindicated for this country an honorable -rank in the investigation of Greek history.”—<i>Edinburgh Review.</i></p> - -<p>“It is doubtful if these tales, antedating history in their origin, and yet -fresh with all the charms of youth to all who read them for the first time, -were ever before presented in so chaste and popular form.”—<i>Golden Rule, -Boston.</i></p> - -<p>“The grace with which these old tales of the mythology are re-told -makes them as enchanting to the young as familiar fairy tales, or the -‘Arabian Nights.’ * * * We do not know of a Christmas book which -promises more lasting pleasures.”—<i>Publishers’ Weekly.</i></p> - -<p>“Its exterior fits it to adorn the drawing-room table, while its contents -are adapted to the entertainment of the most cultivated intelligence. * * * -The book is a scholarly production, and a welcome addition to a -department of literature that is thus far quite too scantily furnished.”—<i>Tribune, -Chicago.</i></p> - -<p class="center"><i>Sold by booksellers, or mailed, postpaid, on receipt of price, by</i></p> - -<p class="ph1">JANSEN, McCLURG & CO., Publishers, Chicago, Ill.</p> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="ph3">SHORT HISTORY OF FRANCE,</p> - -<p class="ph1">FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By</span> MISS E. S. KIRKLAND.<br> - -AUTHOR OF “SIX LITTLE COOKS,” “DORA’S HOUSEKEEPING,” ETC.</p> - -<hr class="tiny"> -<p class="center"><i>12 mo., extra cloth, black and gilt</i>, <span class="gap"> <i>Price $1.50.</i></span></p> -<hr class="tiny"> - -<p>“A very ably written sketch of French history, from the earliest times -to the foundation of the existing Republic.”—<i>Cincinnati Gazette.</i></p> - -<p>“The narrative is not dry on a single page, and the little history may -be commended as the best of its kind that has yet appeared.”—<i>Bulletin, -Philadelphia.</i></p> - -<p>“A book both instructive and entertaining. It is not a dry compendium -of dates and facts, but a charmingly written history.”—<i>Christian -Union, New York.</i></p> - -<p>“After a careful examination of its contents, we are able to conscientiously -give it our heartiest commendation. We know no elementary -history of France that can at all be compared with it.”—<i>Living Church.</i></p> - -<p>“A spirited and entertaining sketch of the French people and nation—one -that will seize and hold the attention of all bright boys and girls -who have a chance to read it.”—<i>Sunday Afternoon, Springfield</i>, (<i>Mass.</i>)</p> - -<p>“We find its descriptions universally good, that it is admirably simple -and direct in style, without waste of words or timidity of opinion. The -book represents a great deal of patient labor and conscientious study.”—<i>Courant, -Hartford, Ct.</i></p> - -<p>“Miss Kirkland has composed her ‘Short History of France’ in the -way in which a history for young people ought to be written; that is, she -has aimed to present a consecutive and agreeable story, from which the -reader can not only learn the names of kings and the succession of -events, but can also receive a vivid and permanent impression as to the -characters, modes of life, and the spirit of different periods.”—<i>The -Nation, N. Y.</i></p> - -<p class="center"><i>Sold by booksellers, or mailed, postpaid, on receipt of price, by</i></p> - -<p class="ph1">JANSEN, McCLURG & CO., Publishers, Chicago, Ill.</p> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="center">“<i>Unequalled by anything of the kind with which we are acquainted.</i>”—<i>Christian -Advocate, N. Y.</i></p> -<hr class="tiny"> -<p class="ph3">CUMNOCK’S CHOICE READINGS.</p> - -<p class="center">FOR PUBLIC AND PRIVATE ENTERTAINMENT. ARRANGED FOR THE<br> -EXERCISES OF THE SCHOOL AND COLLEGE AND PUBLIC READER,<br> -WITH ELOCUTIONARY ADVICE. EDITED BY ROBERT<br> -MC’LAIN CUMNOCK, A. M., PROFESSOR OF<br> -RHETORIC AND ELOCUTION, NORTHWESTERN<br> -UNIVERSITY.</p> - -<hr class="tiny"> -<p class="center"><i>Large 12mo., cloth</i>, <span class="gap"> <i>Price, $1.75.</i></span></p> -<hr class="tiny"> - -<p>“It ought to become a special favorite among school and college -students and public readers.”—<i>Evening Post, New York.</i></p> - -<p>“Taking into account the admirable type, the excellent taste, the -brevity of the rhetorical counsels, the unsurpassed variety, we prefer -Prof. Cumnock’s book to every manual of the kind.”—<i>Christian Register, -Boston.</i></p> - -<p>“Among the multitude of books issued for the same purpose during -the past ten years, we know of none so complete in all respects and so -well fitted to the needs of the elocutionist as the volume before us.”—<i>Transcript, -Boston.</i></p> - -<p>“No choicer casket of prose and poetry has been given to us by any -other author. These are the culled flowers from the bouquet of literature. -They are of every nature known to the language, and each is of -the best of its kind.”—<i>The Post, San Francisco.</i></p> - -<p>“Nearly 200 selections from the best prose and poetical literature of -the English language are here assembled for the uses of the student of -elocution. * * * The collection is valuable as a treasury of -literary gems, apart from its worth as a manual of declamation.”—<i>Tribune, -Chicago.</i></p> - -<p>“The volume consists in great measure of fresh specimens that -have recently found their way into current literature, and present the -charm of novelty with the merit of good writing. The ancient stream is -thus enriched with supplies from new fountains, and living productions -take the place of the veteran pieces which have grown old in the course -of protracted service. * * * They are illustrations of the best -literature of the day.”—<i>Tribune, New York.</i></p> - -<p class="center"><i>Sold by booksellers, or mailed, postpaid, on receipt of price, by</i></p> - -<p class="ph1">JANSEN, McCLURG & CO., Publishers, Chicago, Ill.</p> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="center">“<i>Dr. Gibson is a champion of more than ordinary skill.</i>”—Gazette, -Cincinnati.</p> -<hr class="tiny"> - -<p class="ph3"><span class="smcap">The Foundations</span></p> - -<p class="ph1">OF</p> - -<p class="ph3"><span class="smcap">Christianity</span>.</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By Rev.</span> J. MONRO GIBSON, D. D.,<br> -Author of “<span class="smcap">Ages Before Moses</span>.”</p> -<hr class="tiny"> -<p class="center"><i>Square 16 mo.</i>, <span class="gap"> <i>Price, $1.00.</i></span></p> -<hr class="tiny"> - -<p>“Admirable because of its brevity and directness, and because it answers, -without any theological circumlocution, the objections which -modern infidelity puts forth so pertinaciously.”—<i>Inquirer, Philadelphia.</i></p> - -<p>“The book, both in manner and matter, will be found to be just the -thing which many thoughtful yet perplexed persons need to direct their -inquiries and resolve their doubts. The style is fresh, vigorous and incisive.”—<i>Canada -Presbyterian, Toronto.</i></p> - -<p>“The book will be read with genuine interest by any one who thinks -at all on these noble themes, and we are sure that its effect will be -wholesome and powerful in removing difficulties, strengthening defenses, -and establishing the spirit upon sure foundations.”—<i>Observer, -New York.</i></p> - -<p>“Dr. Gibson’s book, though so condensed, is admirable in method, and -vigorous and fresh in style, throughout. As a brief and popular presentation -of the fundamental truths, such as are apt to expand beyond ordinary -ability to read in most hands, nothing more valuable has recently -emanated from the press.”—<i>Rev. Dr. H. M. Field, in the Evangelist.</i></p> - -<p>“The treatment is masterly. The author grapples the points essential -to the argument with courage and vigor, and in a style notable for its -trenchant force, sets them forth in convincing light. While others meet -the infidel argument more on the skirmish line, Christian people will -be glad to see one like Dr. Gibson bearing down upon the very centre of -the enemy’s position.”—<i>Rev. Dr. J. A. Smith, in the Standard.</i></p> - -<p class="center"><i>Sold by booksellers, or mailed, postpaid, on receipt of price, by</i></p> - -<p class="ph1">JANSEN, McCLURG & CO., Publishers, Chicago, Ill.</p> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="center">“<i>An exceedingly interesting narrative of an extraordinary life.</i>”—The -Standard.</p> -<hr class="tiny"> -<p class="ph3">LIFE OF BENEDICT ARNOLD:</p> - -<p class="ph1"><span class="smcap">His Patriotism and his Treason</span>.</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By Hon.</span> I. N. ARNOLD,<br> -AUTHOR OF “LIFE OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN.”</p> - -<hr class="tiny"> -<p class="center"><i>Crown, 8vo., with Portrait</i>,<span class="gap"> <i>Price, $2.50.</i></span></p> -<hr class="tiny"> -<p>This Life of Arnold is full of new facts, now first given to the public. -Manuscripts from the family of Arnold, in England and in Canada, and -the Shippen manuscripts, have enabled the author to make new contributions -to Revolutionary history of great interest. The unpublished -manuscripts of General Schuyler, to which the author has had access, -has thrown new light upon the expedition to Canada and the campaign -against Burgoyne. The author does not, to any extent, excuse Arnold’s -treason, but aims to do full justice to him as a soldier and patriot. For -Arnold, the traitor, he has no plea but “guilty;” for Arnold, the soldier -and patriot, he asks a hearing and justice.</p> - -<p>“The biographer discriminates fairly between Arnold’s patriotism and -baseness; and while exhibiting the former and the splendid services by -which it was illustrated, with generous earnestness, does not in any degree -extenuate the turpitude of the other.”—<i>Harper’s Monthly.</i></p> - -<p>“The public is the gainer (by this book), as additional light is thrown -on the prominent actors and events of history. * * * Bancroft erroneously -asserts that Arnold was not present at the first battle of Saratoga. -Upon this point the author has justice and right on his side, and to -Arnold, rather than to Gates, the success of this decisive campaign seems -greatly attributable.”—<i>New England Historical and Genealogical Register.</i></p> - -<p>“After a careful perusal of the work, it seems to us that Mr. Arnold has -accomplished his task wonderfully well. * * * It is rarely that one -meets in the pages of biographical literature a nobler woman than was -the devoted wife of Benedict Arnold; she mourned his fallen greatness, -but even in his ignominity was faithful to the vows by which she had -sworn to love and care for him until death.”—<i>Traveller, Boston.</i></p> - -<p class="center"><i>Sold by booksellers, or mailed, postpaid, on receipt of price, by</i></p> - -<p class="ph1">JANSEN, McCLURG & CO., Publishers, Chicago, Ill.</p> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> - -<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> -</div></div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE OF BEETHOVEN ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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