Even arrangements may illustrate the studies. Take, for instance, the arrangements of Vivaldi's violin concertos by J. S. Bach. It is, however, but seldom that eminent composers have occupied themselves with arranging the works of others. Instructive examples of this kind are therefore rare.

It is recorded of some composers that they were in the habit of founding their instrumental works on certain poetical ideas. Haydn is said to have done this almost invariably. Schindler, in his biographical notices of Beethoven, states that the two pianoforte Sonatas, Op. 14, of Beethoven, were explained to him by the composer as representing a dialogue between two lovers. When Schindler asked the meaning of the motivo of the C minor Symphony,

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Beethoven exclaimed, "Thus Fate knocks at the gate!" And being requested by Schindler to supply him with the key to the Sonatas in D minor, Op. 31, and in F minor, Op. 57, Beethoven's answer was: "Read Shakespeare's 'Tempest!'" Beethoven probably resorted to such replies merely to satisfy troublesome inquirers somewhat resembling the inquisitive gentleman in Washington Irving's 'Tales of a Traveller,' who "never could enjoy the kernel of the nut, but pestered himself to get more out of the shell." Several of the titles of Beethoven's instrumental compositions ('Pastoral Sonata,' 'Moonlight Sonata,' 'Sonata appassionata,' etc.) did not originate with the composer, but were given to the pieces by the publishers to render them more attractive to the public. The title of his sonata Op. 81, 'Les Adieux, l'Absence et le Retour,' emanates however from Beethoven himself. This is noteworthy inasmuch as it has brought the advocates of descriptive music into an awkward dilemma. They found in this sonata an unmistakable representation of the parting and ultimate reunion of two ardent lovers,—when, unhappily for them, Beethoven's autograph manuscript of the sonata was discovered, in the library of Archduke Rudolph, bearing the inscription (in German), "The Farewell, Absence, and Return of His Imperial Highness the Venerated Archduke Rudolph."

A similar subject is treated by J. S. Bach, in a capriccio for the harpsichord, entitled, 'On the Departure of a very dear Brother,' in which the different movements are headed as follows:—"No. 1. Entreaty of friends to put off the journey.—No. 2. Representation of the various accidents which might befall him.—No. 3. General lament of friends.—No. 4. Entreaty being of no avail, the friends here bid farewell.—No. 5. Air of the postillion.—No. 6. Fuga in imitation of the post-horn."

This is but a modest essay in tone-painting compared with a certain production by Johann Kuhnau, a predecessor of Bach, who depicted entire biblical stories in a set of six sonatas for the clavichord, which were published in Leipzig in the year 1700. Each sonata is prefaced by a programme, which informs the player what is meant by the several movements—a very necessary proceeding. The stories depicted are from the Old Testament. One of the sonatas is entitled, 'Jacob's Marriage;' another, 'Saul cured by David's Music;' another, 'The Death of Jacob;' and so on. To show how far Kuhnau ventures into detailed description, the explanation printed with the sonata called 'Gideon' may find a place here. It runs as follows:—"1. Gideon mistrusts the promises made to him by God that he should be victorious.—2. His fear at the sight of the great host of the enemy.—3. His increasing courage at the relation of the dream of the enemy, and of its interpretation.—4. The martial sound of the trombones and trumpets, and likewise the breaking of the pitchers and the cry of the people.—5. The flight of the enemy and their pursuit by the Israelites.—6. The rejoicing of the Israelites for their remarkable victory."

Still earlier, in the seventeenth century, Dieterich Buxtehude depicted in seven suites for the clavichord, 'The Nature and Qualities of the Planets;' and Johann Jacob Frohberger, about the same time, composed for the harpsichord a 'Plainte, faite à Londres, pour passer la mélancolie,' in which he describes his eventful journey from Germany to England—how in France he was attacked by robbers, and how afterwards in the Channel, between Calais and Dover, he was plundered by Tunisian pirates. Frohberger composed also an allemande intended to commemorate an event which he experienced on the Rhine. The notation is so contrived as to represent a bridge over the Rhine. Mattheson is said to have cleverly introduced into one of his scores, by means of the notation, the figure of a rainbow. Such music one must not hear; enough if one sees it in print. It deserves to be classed with the silent music mentioned in Shakespeare's 'Othello,' Act III., Scene 1:—

"Clown.—But, masters, here's money for you: and the General so likes your music, that he desires you, for love's sake, to make no more noise with it.

"First Musician.—Well, sir, we will not.

"Clown.—If you have any music that may not be heard, to't again: but, as they say, to hear music the General does not greatly care.

"First Musician.—We have none such, sir.

"Clown.—Then put your pipes in your bag, for I'll away: go, vanish into air; away!"

It may afford satisfaction to the lover of descriptive music to imagine he hears in certain choruses by Handel the leaping of frogs, the humming of flies, or the rattling of hailstones; but the judicious admirer of these compositions values them especially on account of their purely musical beauties. These may in a great measure be traced to euphony combined with originality. Music must be above all things melodiously beautiful. Our great composers bore this in mind, or acted upon it as a matter of course; hence the fascinating charms of their music. The euphony does not depend upon the consonant harmony prevailing in the composition; if this were the case, music would be the more euphonious the fewer dissonant chords it contains, and the major key would be more suitable for euphony than the minor key, since the major scale is founded upon the most simple relation of musical intervals yielding concords. However, our finest compositions contain numerous dissonant chords; and many—perhaps most—are in the minor key. Some of our great composers have certainly written more important works in minor than in major keys. Mozart, in those of his compositions which are in major keys, often manifests extraordinary inspiration as soon as he modulates into a minor key.