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however. As time went on, in furnish illustrations as striking as addition to other causes of friction, any that have been given of the Madame Berlioz developed what emotional aberrations of the roher husband characterises as “a manticists. But it is pleasanter mad, and for some time absolutely to prove the rule by exception by groundless jealousy;" and in 1840 recalling the case of the Robert he met her objection to his going and Elizabeth Barrett Browning on tour alone by decamping to of music. In his sensitiveness to Brussels with another lady. His feminine charms, Robert Schuwife's death, in 1854, let loose in mann was excelled by none of the him floods of sentimentality, and composers. The English type of brought a letter of consolation beauty moved him to ecstasy; but from Liszt, reminding him that he was catholic in his taste, and she had inspired him to sing of made no secret to his fiancée of his her, and piously adding, “Her delight in all the pretty faces he task was done!” It was a letter, saw. "They make me positively Berlioz remarks, such as Liszt smirk,” he wrote to her, “and I alone could write ; and it would swim in panegyrics on your sex. be pleasant to think that it was. Consequently, if at some future He now married again, this time time we walk along the streets of a & young vocalist, Malle. Rezio by Vienna and meet a beauty and I name; and after her sudden death exclaim, O Clara ! see this heavhe sought out the earliest of his enly vision !' or something of the loves, his Beatrice, the “Estelle” sort, you must not be alarmed nor of bis autobiography – the "tall scold me!” The caution may or slight girl” who had fascinated may not have had a touch of serioushim when she was eighteen and ness in it; but in any case, it was he twelve, and who was now needless. How full of delight was widow. "I recognised the divine their wedded life, what a true helpstateliness of her step,” says this meet Madame Schumann was to Romeo of sixty, describing their her husband, especially when, from first interview ; “but, О heavens, the injury to his hand, he was inhow changed she was !--her com- capacitated from playing, and how

! plexion faded, her hair grey.” It much his fame, after his death, was certainly inconsiderate of her was promoted by her interpretato have allowed Time to play such tions of his pieces, all the world havoc with features which he had knows. doted upon half a century before. The whims and caprices which Nevertheless he induced her to make the lives of the romanticists promise to receive his letters, and such entertaining reading form too some of them were answered; but large a topic to be dealt with in “Estelle" maintained a prudent this place. A whole paper would reserve, and the first love of her be inadequate to do justice to the incorrigible adorer was never ex- vagaries of Chopin alone; and if posed to the test of marriage. Of he stands first among composers his other loves there is no space to as an eccentric, he is not without speak. Enough, perhaps, has been respectable rivals. Here the subsaid to show that no one ever more ject can only be referred to in nearly succeeded in reducing the passing as connected with the lack romantic passion to an absurdity. of humour which is one of the

The love-affairs of Liszt and of most signal defects of the musical Georges Sand's "petit Chopin " temperament. That sentimentalism


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and humour sometimes contrive to fun at himself. He recalls his run in couples, clear as it may anti-Rossini rage in his early be that they ought not to, the Paris days, when the star of the examples of Sterne and Dickens Italian was in the ascendant, and suffice to show. But the con- tells us that he often used to junction is rare; and the emotional speculate upon the possibility of extravagance which is the strong- undermining the Théâtre Italien, est “note" of musical biography so as to blow it and its Rossinifinds little relief in humour-at worshippers into space. " And any rate of the conscious kind. when," he proceeds, “I met one of Some of Wagner's devotees have those hated dilettanti I used to persuaded themselves that their mutter to myself, as I eyed him idol was endowed with this choic- with Shylockian glance, Would est of gifts; and one may readily that I might impale thee on a redgrant that the “Meistersinger" is hot stake, thou scoundrel !' Not,” not without gleams of a humour he adds, by way of showing the appreciably above the level of the mellowing effects of time on even practical joke, which was the more the fiercest natures—"not that I ordinary result of his efforts in this would now desire to impale any one kind. It is not easy, however, to on a red-hot stake!” How witsee how the claim can have survived tily, too, does he tell the story the depressing letter which, in a of the three thousand francs which mood that he mistook for gaiety, he had so much difficulty in exhe wrote to Mrs Praeger about tracting from the French Governhis godson. Now and again, to be ment for his Requiem. While he quite fair, he did succeed in con- was impatiently waiting for the cocting a jest at which, allowing for money the Opposition papers began the Teutonic touch, one may smile to gird at him “as a favourite of consistently with self-respect, as the Government,” abused him as when he checked the ardour of the “a silkworm feeding on the revetoo noisy trombones in a rehearsal nue,” and at last declared that he of “Rienzi” with the remark, “If had been paid thirty thousand I mistake not, gentlemen, we are francs. “In saying this,” he obin Dresden, not marching round serves, " they were merely adding Jericho, where your ancestors, a cipher to the sum I hadn't strong of lung, blew down the city received !” walls." For the rest, Haydn was Having said so much of the playful rather than humorous. faults and foibles of the musical Mozart struck a deeper note. Beet- temperament, its lack of balance hoven, by virtue of his splendid and sanity, its excesses and abirony, is entitled to no mean place surdities, its habit of taking itself among the great humorists. And and things in general too seriously, , to two or three of the romanticists, one must in fairness add that, if who were writers as well as com- the phrase may be so twisted, it posers, the world is indebted for has the qualities of its defects. many a hearty laugh. Much may It has been shown that in the be forgiven to Berlioz, in particu- lives of the masters there is not lar, for his delightful sallies. In a little to amuse the cynical, and his Memoirs he not only holds up make the judicious grieve: equally many of his contemporaries to true is it that in no other departridicule, but, egoist as he was, he ment of biography is there so much cannot always abstain from poking that is pure delight. Nowhere

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else do we find such sweetness have done that,” said Kozeluch, and gentleness, such winsome sim- referring to an innovation in a plicity, such superiority to the new quartette of Haydn's.” “Nor baser incentives to artistic tra- would I," replied Mozart.

" And vail. Of the miserable jealousies do you know why? Because neithat have played so large a part ther you nor I would have had among “the petty fools of rhyme," such an idea!” Nor was Mozart, and not among these alone, we in the days of his fame, slow to see comparatively little here. Nor mete out to younger composers has the noble generosity with which the appreciation which had been the composers have known how measured to him. After listento treat each other been wanting ing to an improvisation by Beetwhen the conditions have been hoven, he went up to the youth's those of rivalry. What, for in- friends and said, “Look after him; stance, could be more charming he will some day make a great than the relations between Haydn name in the world.” Beethoven,

, and Mozart? It was Haydn's in- again, when towards the end of fluence that made the way plain his life he was shown some pieces for the composer who was four- of Schubert's, bore emphatic testiand-twenty years his junior when mony to the gift of the neglected the latter came to Vienna. genius, and expressed his regret an honest man,” he once said to that they had not been brought Wolfgang's father, “I declare to to his notice before. And, since you before God that I consider there has been occasion to notice your son the greatest of all com- some of Berlioz's less amiable traits, posers of whom I have any know- let it be said that no one ever ledge.” To the manager of the more abounded in generous enopera-house at Prague, who was thusiasm for worthy rivals than thinking of giving an opera of his this master of caustic criticism. on the evening after one of Mo- If the composers have not been zart's, he wrote that it would be wanting in the amenities of chartoo much to venture, " for next to acter, neither have they lacked its the great Mozart it would be diffi- pieties. Strange indeed would it cult for any one to stand. Could be were it otherwise, seeing that I,” he goes on, "force home to music, above all the arts, has found every lover of music the grandeur in religion its loftiest inspirations. and' inimitableness of Mozart's Bach dedicated all his compositions operas, their profundity and dis- to the service of God, and, not less play of genius, ... the nations than Milton, worked ever as in the would contend for the possession of great Taskmaster's eye. Handel, so rare a gem.” This shrinking gross as were his faults, had strong from a comparison between his religious feeling. The smaller ills own work and Mozart's is all the of life exacerbated his temper; but more significant from the fact when overtaken by the blindness that, by one of those eccentricities which, by a melancholy coinci

, of self-criticism with which all the dence, darkened the later years arts abound, Haydn regarded his his great contemporary Bach, he operas as forming his surest title submitted himself to the dispensato enduring renown. Mozart, on tion with pious resignation. "If his side, cherished for Haydn an I am spared a few years longer, affection almost passing the love wrote Beethoven in a time of sore of son for father. “I would not trouble, “I will thank the Al


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mighty, accepting joy and sorrow panies the words, “Let there be

“ as it shall please Him to ordain it.” light !” there was a tempest of Mozart's Requiem could have come applause, in the midst of which the from none but a fundamentally aged composer, trembling with religious nature; and no one ever emotion, looked upwards and exmore truly acted out the whole- claimed, “It came from thence !” some maxim, "Serve God and be Not less indicative of the essential chearfull," than did Haydn. "I spirituality of the musical temperacannot help it,” he said to one who ment is the experience of Wagner, pointed out that all his sacred whose faith a pessimistic philopieces were marked by gaiety ; “I sophy enthusiastically embraced give forth what is in me. When I could not destroy, but only diffuse think of the Divine Being my heart into a mysticism that goes far to is so full of joy that the notes fly explain the spell his music has cast off as from a spindle; and as He over minds strongly antagonistic to has given me a cheerful heart He definite religious belief, but dimly will pardon me if I serve Him conscious of spiritual cravings cheerfully." He was not ashamed which negations can neither apto avow that while he was compos- pease nor eradicate. In the case ing the “Creation " he daily prayed of Liszt the conflict long waged for inspiration, and believed his in a restless and penetrating mind prayer was not in vain. The story between faith and doubt issued of his last appearance in public, a in the triumph of faith ; and he few months before his death, has ostentatiously proclaimed his adoften been told-how he was borne hesion to the Church with which by loving hands to a grand perfor- the romantic temperament, whether mance of the oratorio in honour of expressed in music or in literature, his seventy-sixth birthday-how at has such obvious affinities. the burst of music which accom



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“How does feyther find hissel' hearted fellow at the core, and to-neet?

anxious to humour the old man Mrs Rainford, who had been in everything that he considered bending over the fire, slowly stir- reasonable. Mary paused to pour ring the steaming contents of a out a mugful of the gruel she had small black pot, tapped her wooden been preparing, and then followed. spoon against the side, and turned Old Joe Orrell was sitting up in round.

bed, his broad bony shoulders “Eh, mich same as he allus is,” showing square through his flannel she responded, wearily. “Some- shirt, bis eyes bright under their times a bit better, an' sometimes shaggy brows, one huge hand a bit war.

It took me all my gripping the bedclothes. time to keep him abed when he Tom stood still just inside the heared yo'd started ploughin' th' door, and nodded. Sunnyfields. Eh, he were that “Well,” he said, “an' how are takken to I 'ad to be vexed wi' yo', feyther? Yo' look a deal him at th' last. He allus reckoned livelier this arternoon.” bein' at th' ploughin' o'yon his- Joe stared at him fixedly for a sel', thou knows—it's bin pasture minute or two. iver sin' gron'feyther's time

“ Thou's started ploughin' up “Well, it wanted turnin' up Sunny fields, I 'ear," he growled. bad enough as how 'tis," inter- “ Thou met ha' waited a bit, I rupted her husband, with a roll think. I reckoned to be at it of his bullet-head. He had been mysel' this spring.” practically master of the Gate “Well, but yo’ aren't able to, Farm for more than six months yo' see'n," replied Tom, mildly. now, and did not see why his “I'm noan bahn to stop 'ere father-in-law should interfere with mich longer, though. How long his arrangements. Old Joe Orrell dun yo' reckon to keep me shut was indeed the nominal proprietor up? I'm about tired of it, and of the place, but quite incapable so I tell yo'. I'll be about when of managing his own affairs, hav- warm weather cooms." ing been ill, off and on, all the Tom gazed at him with a cerwinter, and indeed kept to bed for tain stolid compassion, and Mary, a fortnight now.

standing immediately behind him, At this moment a kind of husky heaved a deep sigh and slowly roar audible from above. shook her head. Joe glanced at Mary Rainford jerked her thumb them sharply and resentfully. over her shoulder and turned her “I see: yo' count to ha' me head on one side. The roar was under ground afore owt's long," repeated.

he observed; "but I tell yo' I “’Ark at feyther,” said the wunnot dee just yet—so theer!” woman. “He's shoutin' for thee, He sank back on his pillows. Tom. Thou'd best nip up — it " I'm noan bahn to get out of starts him coughin' awful when he yo'r road as


as all that gets excited.”

cooms to, Mester Tom,” he conTom went creaking up the stairs tinued, half jocularly. willingly enough; he was a good- “I dunnot want yo' to get out



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