Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

proposed to drink to that one of them who should be the first to follow him-and hastily filling up the cup, Schubert drank to himself!

In the following year (1828) he finished his ninth and last great Symphony in C, and produced amongst other works the Quintet in C, the Mass in E flat, and the Sonata No. 10 (Hallé edit.), B flat major. His health had been failing for some time past, but although he now suffered from constant headache and exhaustion, we do not find that he ever relaxed his labours in composition. In the spring, he gave his first and last concert. The programme was composed entirely of his own music. The hall was crowded to overflowingthe enthusiasm of Vienna was at length fairly awakened, and the crown of popularity and success seemed at last within his reach; but the hand which should have grasped it was already growing feeble. He thought of going to the hills in July; but when July came he had not sufficient money. He still looked forward to visiting Hungary in the autumn, but was attacked with fever in September, and expired November 19th, 1828, not having yet completed his thirty-second year.

He lies near Beethoven, in the crowded cemetery of Währing. On the pediment beneath his bust is the following inscription :

"Music buried here a rich possession,

and yet fairer hopes.'

Here lies FRANZ SCHUBERT; born Jan. 31, 1797; died Nov. 19, 1828,

aged 31 years.”

We pass from the composer to his works. Works belonging to the highest order of genius depend upon the rare combination of three distinct qualities,-(1) Invention, (2) Expression, (3) Concentration. Speaking generally, we may say that Beethoven and Mozart possessed all three. Mendelssohn, the second and third in the highest degree; Schumann,† the first and third; Schubert, the first and second. As fast as his ideas arose they were poured forth on paper. He was like a gardener bewildered with the luxuriant growth springing up around him. He was too rich for himself, his fancy outgrew his powers of arrangement. Beethoven will often take one dry subject, and by force of mere labour and concentration, kindle it into life and beauty. Schubert will shower a dozen upon you, and hardly stop to elaborate one. His music is more the work of a gifted dreamer, of one carried along irresistibly by the current of his thoughts, than of one who, like Beethoven, worked at his idea until its expression was without a flaw. His thought possesses Schubert-Beethoven labours till he has possessed his

thought.

Schubert has left compositions in every style,

The quality, at once delicate, tender, and sublime, of Mendelssohn's creations is not questioned; but the endless though bewitching repetitions, or inversions of the same phrase, and an identity of form which amounts to more than mere mannerism, compel us to admit that the range of his musical ideas was limited.

† Again, extraordinary powers of expression are not denied to Schumann. He sometimes hits you, like Robert Browning, with the force of a sledge-hammer, but you often feel that, like that poet, he is labouring with some thought for which he can find and for which there is no adequate verbal expression.

operas, church music, symphonies, songs, and unexplored masses of pianoforte music. His operas were uniformly unsuccessful, with the exception of "War in the Household," which is on a very small scale, and has the advantage over all the others of an experienced librettist, Castelli. The truth is that Schubert was probably deficient in the qualities which are necessary to the success of an opera. Besides melody, harmony, facility, and learning, an attention to stage effect, a certain tact of arrangement, and above all things (what Schubert never possessed) the faculty of coming to an end, are necessary. Anything like diffuseness is a fault. A successful opera must have definite points to work up to, and a good crisis. How many Italian operas depend upon three situations, one quartet, and a good murder! And how many of them are worth a page of Schubert's music?

Some of his Masses and Psalms are still unpublished; the few we have had the good fortune to hear possess all the breadth and sweetness of his secular works. The twenty-third Psalm, for women's voices, might be sung by a chorus of angels.

Schubert wrote in all seven complete symphonies. Of these the sixth, in C, is interesting, as showing the transition from the forms of Mozart and Beethoven to true Schubertian. The seventh and last (1828) is a masterpiece, and tastes of nothing but Schubert from beginning to end. Comparisons of merit are usually senseless or unjust, but different qualities are often best observed by the light of contrast. In Schubert's

pianoforte music and symphonic writing for strings or full orchestra, we miss the firm grip of Beethoven, the masterful art-weaving completeness of Mendelssohn, the learning of Spohr, or even the pure melodic flow of Mozart;-grip there is, but it is oftener the grip of Phaeton than the calm might of Apollo,-a weaving there is, no doubt, but like the weaving of the Indian loom-beautiful in its very irregularity,- learning there is, and that of the highest order, because instinctive, but how often do we find a neglect of its use in the direction of curtailment or finish!-melodies there are in abundance, but they are frequently so crowded upon each other with a destructive exuberance of fancy, that we fail to trace their musical connection or affinity. In speaking thus, we are dealing of course with characteristics and tendencies, not with invariable qualities. Movements of Schubert might be pointed out as rounded and complete, as connected in thought and perfect in expression, as the highest standard of art could require; but these will be found more often amongst his pianoforte four-hand and vocal music than in his larger works. We must, however, admit that the exceptions to this rule are triumphant ones, and criticism stands disarmed before such works as the Quintet in C, the Sonata in A minor, and the Seventh Symphony.

In describing this symphony, Schumann has not fallen into the shallow mistake of explaining to us the particular thought which the author had in his mind: but whilst admitting that probably he had none. and

that the music was open to different interpretations, he neither there nor elsewhere in the mass of his criticism, explains how the same piece of music can mean different things, or why people are so apt to insist upon its meaning something. The fact is, when we say a piece of music is like the sea or the moon, what we really mean is, that it excites in us an emotion like that created by the sea or the moon; but the same music will be the fit expression of any other idea which is calculated to rouse in us the same sort of feeling. As far as music is concerned, it matters not whether your imagination deals with a storm gradually subsiding into calm-passionate sorrow passing into resignation or silence and night descending upon a battle-field-in each of the above cases the kind of emotion excited is the same, and will find a sort of expression in any one of these different conceptions. In illustration of the number of similar ideas which will produce the same emotion, and of the different ways in which the same emotion will find an utterance, see an article in the Argosy, II., by Matthew Browne,

"It has seemed to me that no note of pain, shriek of agony or shout of joy-for either would do,-could be strong enough to express sympathy with a meadow of buttercups tossed and retossed by the wind."

How often in Beethoven is it impossible to decide whether he is bantering or scolding, and in Mendelssohn, whether he is restless with joy or anxiety!

Thus a very little reflection will show us that music is not necessarily connected with any definite concep

« ПредишнаНапред »