every song some example of such faithful paintinG may be found. A word will often do it. With Schubert the minor mode seems to be synonymous with trouble, and the major with relief; and the mere mention of the sun, or a smile, of any other emblem of gladness, is sure to make him modulate. Some such image was floating before his mind when he made the beautiful change to A major near the beginning of the A minor Quartet (bar 23).
The foregoing remarks, which only attempt to deal with a few of the external characteristics of these astonishing songs, will be of use if they only encourage the knowledge and study of them. The chronological list (No. II) of Schubert's productions, which is here attempted in this form for the first time, will, it is hoped, throw much light on the progress of his genius, by facilitating the search where alone it can be made with profit, namely in the works themselves. All are worth knowing, though all are by no means of equal excellence.
I end my imperfect sketch of the life and works of this wonderful musician, by recalling the fact that Schubert's songs, regarded as a department of music, are absolutely and entirely his own. Songs there were before him, those of Schulz for instance, and of Zumsteeg, which he so greatly admired, and of Haydn and Mozart—touching, beautiful expressions of simple thought and feeling. But the Song, as we know it in his hands; full of dramatic fire, poetry, and pathos; set to no simple Volkslieder, but to long complex poems, the best poetry of the greatest poets, and an absolute reflection of every change and breath of sentiment in that poetry; with an accompaniment of the utmost force, fitness, and variety—such songs were his and his alone. With one exception. Beethoven left but one song of importance, his 'Liederkreis' (op. 98), but that is of superlative excellence. The Liederkreis, however, was not published till Dec. 1816, and even if Schubert made its acquaintance immediately, yet a reference to the Chronological List will show that by that time his style was formed, and many of his finest songs written. He may have gained the idea of a connected series of songs from Beethoven, though neither the 'Schöne Müllerin' nor the 'Winterreise' have the same intimate internal connexion as the Liederkreis; but the character and merits of the single songs remain his own. When he wrote 'Loda's Gespenst' and 'Kolma's Klage' in 1815, he wrote what no one had ever attempted before. There is nothing to detract from his just claim to be the creator of German Song, as we know it, and the direct progenitor of those priceless treasures in which Schumann, Mendelssohn, and Brahms have followed his example.
Of Schubert's religion it is still more difficult to say anything than it was of Beethoven's, because he is so much more reticent. A little poem of Sept. 1820, one of two preserved by Robert Schumann (Neue Zeitschrift für Musik, Feb. 5, 1839) is as vague a confession of faith as can well be imagined.
THE SPIRIT OF THE WORLD.
I hear the Spirit say:—
It and only it can keep them
Near me on their darkling way.
Leave them racing, hurrying on
To some distant goal,
Building creeds and proofs upon
Half-seen flashes in the soul.
Not a word of it is true.
Yet what loss is theirs or mine?
In the maze of human systems
I can trace the thought divine.
The other, three years later, May 8, 1823, is somewhat more definite. It calls upon a 'mighty father' to look upon his son lying in the dust; and implores Him to pour upon him the everlasting beams of His love; and, even though He kill him, to preserve him for a purer and more vigorous existence. It expresses—very imperfectly, it is true, but still unmistakeably the same faith that has been put into undying words by the great poet of our own day:—
Thou wilt not leave us in the dust;
Thou madest man, he knows not why;
He thinks he was not made to die;
And Thou hast made him: Thou art just.
Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell,
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,
But vaster.[1]
Franz may not have gone the length of his brother Ignaz[2] in vulgar scoffing at religious forms and persons, which no doubt were very empty in Vienna at that date; but still of formal or dogmatic religion we can find no traces, and we must content ourselves with the practical piety displayed in his love for his father and Ferdinand, and testified to by them in their touching words and acts at the time of his death (p. 354a); and with the certainty that, though irregular after the irregularity of his time, Schubert was neither selfish, sensual, nor immoral. What he was in his inner man we have the abundant evidence of his music to assure us. Whatever the music of other composers may do, no one ever rose from hearing a piece by Schubert without being benefited by it. Of his good-nature to those who took the bread out of his mouth we lave already spoken. Of his modesty we may be allowed to say that he was one of the very few musicians who ever lived who did not behave as if he thought himself the greatest man in the world.[3] And these things are all intrinsic parts if his character and genius.
That he died at an earlier age[4] even than
- ↑ In Memoriam (Prologue).
- ↑ See his letter in Kreissle, 147 (i. 149).
- ↑ This modesty comes out in a letter to Ferdinand of July 18—19, 1824, where Schubert says, 'it would be better to play some other quartets than mine' (probably referring to those in E and E♭), 'since there is nothing in them except perhaps the fact that they please you, as everything of mine pleases you. True,' he goes on, 'you do not appear to have liked them so much as the waltzes at the Ungarchische Krone,' alluding to a clock at that eating-house of which Ferdinand had told him, which was set to play Franz's waltzes. The clock shows how popular Schubert was amongst his own set, and I regret having overlooked the fact in its proper place.
- ↑ The following are among the musicians, poets, and painters who have died in the fourth decade of their lives. Shelley, 30; Sir Philip Sidney, 32; Bellini, 33; Mozart, 35; Byron, 36; Rafaelle, 37; Burns, 37; Purcell, 37; Mendelssohn, 38; Weber, 39; Chopin, 40.
