Again, there are two general types of melodic curve; one which rises and falls by a progression of consecutive notes, one which follows the constituent parts of a chord in arpeggio. As a rule, the great melodies of the world contain elements of both, with a characteristic preponderance of the former; and attempts to construct tunes out of the latter alone, as, for instance, the opening theme of Weber's Second Pianoforte Sonata, have usually ended in disappointment. But to this rule Brahms is an exception. In a large number of his themes the arpeggio predominates, and always with a special interest and a special personality. Thus, in Von ewiger Liebe, in the Sapphic Ode, in the Violoncello tune, from the first movement of the B flat, Sestett we have melodies designed after this pattern which are not only clear and salient, but strikingly beautiful as well. It will be seen that in all three cases the same device is employed, a passage from dominant to mediant, which leaves the intervening tonic untouched, and in this small matter is indicated the real secret of their effectiveness. Brahms does not merely take the harmonic notes as they are presented by the simple arpeggio, he makes selection among them, omitting one and emphasising another, until he has given character to the whole progression. It is hardly extravagant to say that there is as much difference between a chord-tune of Brahms and a chord-tune of Weber as between a well-written accompaniment figure and an Alberti bass.
A third feature is the remarkable variety and ingenuity of his metrical system. The device of cross-rhythm acquires with him an entirely new significance; it does not defy the restrictions of the bar, but totally disregards them. In the first movement of the Violin Concerto, for instance, the measure of three crotchets is traversed by a phrase of five thrice repeated, the effect of which is a momentary obliteration of the time signature, and the substitution not of a similar rhythm in slower tempo, but of an interpolated phrase, which seems to stand wholly out of relation to the beat: and yet the passage does not project from the general plane of the movement, as do the famous syncopated chords in the Eroica, it is woven into the texture, and forms a homogeneous part of the substance. Again Brahms is fond of placing his melody so that the stress falls outside the principal accent of the bar, thus baffling the hearer who feels that rhythm and tempo are really the same, but is yet conscious that for the moment they do not coincide. It would be an interesting experiment for any musician, who has never seen the Quartett in G minor, to write down from dictation the first Pianoforte phrase of the intermezzo; and an instance even more striking may be found in the first movement of the Clarinet Quintett, where the string melody seems to be shifted forward a quaver in advance of the beat, until the solo instrument sets the passage back in its place, and the discrepancy is resolved. Here, then, is another reason why the music of Brahms is difficult at a first hearing. 'Was ist das überhaupt für ein Takt?' said the Viennese critics, after vainly endeavouring to count their way through a complicated passage, and the inexperienced beginner will often feel tempted to sympathise with their impatience. But, as we gradually learn how to thread the intricacies of the phrase, and how to balance the alternatives that proffer their incompatible claims, we gain a more lasting pleasure from the intellectual stimulus than can ever be afforded by glowing harmony or by opulence of tone. And if it be objected that this is little better than a musical enigma, a mere piece of child's play below the dignity of a serious art, then the answer is, that dramatic irony must fall under the same condemnation, for it aims at precisely the same effect. To confuse the noble with the trivial employment of artistic illusion, is to see no difference between a play of Sophocles and a puppet show.
Lastly, we may notice the rightness and finality which mark the most characteristic of his phrases. In Shakespear it often happens that we come across a line where there is nothing unusual in the thought, nothing recondite in the language, nothing but the simplest idea exhibited in the simplest words, and yet when we read it we feel at once that it could have been said in no other way, and that it can never be said again. And, in his own art, Brahms too has this gift of making simplicity memorable. For instance, in the opening theme of the F minor Quintett, there is nothing that can be called a device; the short loop, by which the second melodic curve picks up the first, is common enough in music; so is the use of the two alternative leading notes, so is the repetition of the same emphatic sound on the chief accent of three successive figures. But no one who has once heard the phrase can ever forget it: and no one can imagine its being altered by a single note without serious loss and detriment. In a word, it is inevitable, and therefore final: a plain statement of a primary truth which remains with us as a delight when the most elaborate epigrams have passed away into weariness or oblivion. And in two of the Violin Sonatas, in the A minor Quartett, in a hundred other works and movements, we shall find that the first sentences give an equally striking illustration of this power. Many composers become commonplace when they try to be simple: they can only seize our attention with an effort, with some special trick of colour or contrast. Brahms, who has at his command every shade in the whole gamut of colour, can make an abiding masterpiece with a few strokes in black and white.
In the foregoing analysis, nothing has been attempted except a bare description of the organism. The mystery of life, the breath of thought and inspiration, the secret language by which mind speaks to mind,—all these are beyond our reach, and in dealing with them we should only confess our ignorance of our own inadequacy. But this at least we may say, that wherever the divine principle is present, it makes itself known by the witness of visible signs—by law, by progress, by inter-relation of parts and unity of function. If, then, we can read the signs, we may guess at the thing signified: if the words be clear and consecutive, we may claim that there is a meaning in the sentence. In music it is possible, as the old Psychologists fabled, that the soul is the true realisation of the body, the power that moulds and shapes the organs into their fulness of existence and energy. And thus, though we can never put into words what we mean by the soul of music, we may yet point to perfection of body as its evidence. No man will deny that the art of Brahms is a living force—a genuine, spontaneous outcome of personal feeling and personal vitality. And, if it be so, the analysis of its external form may, to some extent, indicate its possession of the more spiritual gifts.
That he stands beside Bach and Beethoven is hardly any more a matter for controversy. All three are poets of the same order—noble, dignified, majestic—followers of the statelier muses, and of Apollo, who teaches to men the truths of prophecy. All three are consummate artists, in whose supreme mastery of utterance the highest message has found fit and adequate expression; and finally, in all three alike may be seen the culmination and fulfilment of an epoch in musical history—a climax of achievement which not only closes the chapter of its own age but renders possible the further record of the ages, to come. True, the work of Brahms is still too near us to receive its proper meed of appreciation. We are not yet so familiar with his method as with that of his two forerunners: in his speech there is still something new and strange which now and again baffles our understanding. But all true art is unfathomable: we see the play of colour upon its surface, and know from the very richness and glory of the sight, that below are depths which no plummet can measure. By our century of experience we have learned to know a little of Beethoven: we shall no more master his secret than we shall enter into the mind of Shakespear or Goethe. And in like manner, if we call Brahms obscure, we are imputing our own weakness as the fault of a man who is too great for us. It is not for nothing that we love best those of his writings which we have most carefully studied. It is not for nothing that every decade adds to the number of those who see in him the highest expression of our present ideal. When music attains to fuller knowledge and nobler practice, it will grant him a due place among its foremost leaders, and to us who honour him as a monarch, will succeed a generation which reverences him as a hero.
INDEX
A.
A major Symphony (Beethoven), [51], [64], [70], [219], [286].
A major Pianoforte Quartett (Brahms), [253], [255], [285], [296].
A minor String Quartett (Schumann), [54];
(Dvořák), [197];
(Brahms), [302].
Abendständchen, [255].
Academic Overture, [268].
Academy, The, [262].
Æolopantaleon, [90].
Æolsharfe, [298].
Æschylus, [281], [296].
Ahle, Johann Rudolph, [264].
Aix-la-Chapelle, [120].
Albert Hall, [205].
Alcestis, the, [53].
Aldrich, T. B., [64].
Alexander's Feast, [264].
Alfred (Dvořák's), [190].
Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung, [100], [235], [247], [256].
Ambros, [251].
America, [183], [208].
Andrea del Sarto, [168], [233].
Anselar Platz, [231], [234].
Anstey, F., [65].
Antigone, the, [260].
Antonin, [92], [108].
Arago, [134].
Arbeau's Orchesographie, [277].
Aristotle, illustrations from, [9], [10], [21], [22], [70], [278].
Art (limits of analysis), [75], [133], [150], [243].
Art of Music (Dr Parry), [283].
Arts and Sciences (Order of), [270].
Asolando, [149].
Austen, Miss, [64].
Austin Dobson, Mr, [31].
Austria, [185], [208], [259].
Austrian Kultusministerium, [198]-[200].
Austrio-Prussian War, [258].
Ave Maria (Brahms), [247].
Ave Maris Stella (Dvořák), [194].
B.
B major Trio (Brahms), [42].
B flat Sestett (Brahms), [247], [253], [282], [287], [296], [299].
B flat minor Sonata (Chopin), [136], [137], [155], [156].
Bach, polyphony, [278];
relation to Brahms, [283]-[286];
illustrations from, [20], [30], [40], [45], [66], [68], [70], [86], [161], [168], [217], [218], [232], [259], [278], [279], [280], [281], [282].
Bacon, [190], [211].
Bad Reinerz, [91], [93].
Baillot, [116].
Ballades (Chopin), [123], [131], [135], [154], [158].
Balzac, [67], [134].
Barbara Allen, [38].
Barbizon School, [213].
Barcarolle (Chopin), [137].
Barcelona, [129].
Bartered Bride, the, [187], [221].
Basle, [269].
Beethoven, relation to Chopin, [155];
to Dvořák, [219];
to Brahms, [286]-[290].
Beethoven, illustrations from, [7], [11], [20], [22], [24], [30], [33], [39], [42], [43], [46], [47], [51]-[53], [55], [64], [66]-[68], [70], [72], [80], [97], [98], [106], [149], [153], [156], [157], [163], [167], [168], [189], [221], [223], [225], [232], [234], [236], [237], [243], [247], [252], [253], [258], [259], [262], [265], [266], [280].
Belleville, Mdlle. de, [107].
Bendl, Karel, [188], [191].
Berlin, [94], [95], [102], [110], [115], [200].
Berlin Iris, [120].
Berlioz, illustrations from, [21], [29], [32], [33], [106], [120], [149], [180], [183], [220], [232], [234], [239], [280], [285].
Birmingham Festival, [206], [208].
Blätter für Theater Musik und Kunst, [252], [253].
Blahetka, [100].
Blanc, Louis, [133].
Bluebells of Scotland, [46].
Blumendeutung, [191].
Böhmisch-Kamnitz, [176].
Bohemia, condition of music in, [177];
loss of independence, [182];
beginnings of renaissance, [183], [184];
national movement, [184]-[187], [192], [194], [203], [208], [217], [220].
Bohemian Folksongs, [215].
Bohemian Theatre, [191], [195], [204].
Bonn, [245], [260].
Brahms, Johannes, birth, [231];
early education, [232]-[3];
first concert, [233];
tour with Reményi, [235];
Göttingen, [235];
Hanover, [237];
Weimar, [238];
goes to Schumann at Dusseldorf, [239];
début at Leipsic, [240];
appointment at Lippe Detmold, [241];
concerts, [243];
first pianoforte concerto, [244], [261];
serenades, [245];
stay in Switzerland, [246], [247];
goes to Vienna, [249];
début in Vienna, [252];
first performance of B flat sestett, [253];
relation to Wagner, [254];
appointment to Vienna Singakademie, [255];
concert tour in Germany, [255];
concert tour in Switzerland, [257];
German Requiem, [258], [259];
Hungarian dances, [261];
Triumphlied and Schicksalslied, [262], [263];
appointed conductor of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde, [263];
first symphony, [265];
doctor's degree at Breslau, [267];
tragic and academic overtures, [267], [268];
concert tour, [269];
decorations from Germany, Bavaria and Austria, [270];
made citizen of Hamburg, [271];
later compositions, [271], [272].
Brahms as composer. The 'fifth landmark,' 281, [282];
relation to Bach, [283]-[286];
relation to Beethoven, [287]-[290];
further developments of structure, [291]-[294];
emotional range, [295], [296];
melody, [296]-[299];
rhythm, [300], [301];
conclusion, [302], [304].
Brahms, illustrations from, [18], [30], [40], [42], [54], [55], [62], [70], [187], [214], [225].
Brahms, Johann Jakob, [231], [234];
Frau, [231], [234];
Fritz, [235], [246].
Brandenburgs in Bohemia, the, [187].
Brault, Augustine, [137].
Breitkopf and Härtel, [91].
Bremen, [259], [262].
Breslau, [111], [267].
Broadwoods, the, [123].
Brontë, Charlotte, [64].
Browning, illustrations from, [13], [149], [233].
Bruch, Max, [259].
Bruckner, [250].
Brüll, Ignaz, [250].
Bückeburg, [238].
Buda-Pesth, [258], [269].
Burger, [29], [206].
Burns, [47], [152], [177].
Burton, [17].
Byron, [35], [200].
C.
Calderon, [212].
Cambridge, [208], [267], [272].
Carlsbad, [121].
Carlsruhe, [255], [262], [265].
Carnaval Overture, [224].
Carpaccio, [157].
Catalani, [88], [107].
Cauvière, Dr, [132].
Cavalleria Rusticana, [217].
Cellini, [90].
Chapelain, [133].
Cherubini, [91], [116].
Chiarina, [122].
Chopin, Frederick, birth, [83];
early education, [85]-[87];
first compositions, [90];
visit to Berlin, [94];
first visit to Vienna, [97];
return to Warsaw, [101];
Constance Gladkowska, [102];
concerts in Warsaw, [105], [109];
leaves Poland, [110];
second visit to Vienna, [111]-[115];
arrival in Paris, [116];
concerts in Paris, [118], [120], [129], [135], [143];
tour in Germany, [121]-[123];
visits to London and Marienbad, [123];
meets George Sand, [124];
at Nohaut, [129], [132], [133], [134], [137], [140];
winter in Majorca, [129]-[132];
pupils, [134], [135];
death of his father, [136];
breakdown in health, [137];
rupture with George Sand, [137]-[142];
second visit to England, [143], [144];
return to Paris, [144];
death, [145].
Chopin as composer. Style, [150];
relation to Polish folk-music, [151]-[154];
structure, [155], [156];
melody, [158];
harmony, [160]-[163];
accompaniment figures, [164]-[166];
treatment of pianoforte, [166]-[168].
Chopin, illustrations from, [17], [18], [31], [53], [55], [57], [60], [66], [218], [220], [232], [233], [267], [286].
Chopin, Nicholas, [83], [90], [94], [121], [126].
Chopin, Louisa, [85];
Isabella, [85];
Emily, [85], [93].
Choral Symphony, [38], [160], [289].
Chrysander, Dr, [256].
Clary, Prince, [100].
Clementi, [134].
Clesinger, [138].
Coda, [52].
Cologne, [243], [255].
Concerto in F minor (Chopin), [105], [106], [123];
in E minor (Chopin), [105], [109], [115], [117], [119];
Violin Concerto (Dvořák), [220], [224];
(Brahms), [266], [300];
in D minor (Brahms), [244], [261];
in B flat (Brahms), [269];
double, [270];
Brahms' treatment of, [292].
Congress of Vienna, [83].
Conservatoire, Warsaw, [102], [110];
Paris, [117], [120], [180];
Prague, [208].
Constable, [213].
Constance, [246].
Corelli, [279].
Corneille, [45], [254].
Correggio, [60].
Couperin, [31], [279].
Cour d'Orléans, [133], [142].
Covent Garden, [183].
Cracow, [97].
Crystal Palace, [272].
Cunning Peasant, the, [201]
Czerny, [98].
D.
D minor Symphony (Dvořák), [194], [207], [216], [222].
D minor Concerto (Brahms), [244], [247], [261].
Dante, [7], [155], [296].
Danzic, [93].
Darwin, [6].
David, [255].
Davidsbund, [122].
Deiters, Dr, [243], [256].
Delacroix, [121], [133].
Der Freischütz, [101], [195].
Dessoff, [250].
Dettingen Te Deum, [264].
Development section, [52].
Dietrich, [259].
Dimitrij, [204].
Dobrovsky, [189].
Dorian mode, [154].
Dresden, [101], [111], [121], [122], [187], [234].
Dryden, [283].
Du bist wie eine Blume, [38].
Dufay, [277].
Dürer, [7].
Dumas, [134], [219].
Du Maurier, [63], [163].
Dumka, [220].
Dunstable, [277].
Dusseldorf, [120], [236], [239].
Dussek, [183].
Dvořák, Antonin, birth,