and we owe little thanks to his intimates, that, of a work of such paramount importance as this, they failed to elicit from himself a definite account of its purport, which would have prevented much critical disputation, and certainly enhanced the interest of the composition. In the absence of authority, we may assume, first, that, feeling his admitted pre-eminence as a composer of instrumental music, Beethoven resolved to give the world a work of this class, which, in greatness of proportion, of design and of signification, should surpass everything that had gone before it, and so justify to himself the estimation in which he held his own power; and second, that, having embodied in the first three movements the changeful phases of a mighty grief, he chose to contrast these by the expression of joy in every varying aspect, selected Schiller's Ode as a vehicle for the conduct of his plan, and introduced voices as an additional resource to those of the instrumental orchestra, that he might insure such vitality in the effect of this portion of the symphony as would command the magnetic sympathy of its hearers, and so especially illustrate the living principle that distinguishes sublimity from the rendering of mortal passion, however great its beauty. Many circumstances had concurred to induce Beethoven's very rare appearance in public during recent years; among these we may consider his infirmity, which rendered his direction of a performance he could not hear most embarrassing to all concerned, and fatal to its effect; the greater and greater complexity of his music, which rendered this ever less acceptable to a general audience; and, not less than either, his querulous temper, which, if it made him not public enemies, must have given many a one a secret disinclination to assist in his aggrandizement. He, however, esteemed himself slighted, and regarded with jealousy the ephemeral fashion for Rossini as the cause. Under this impression, arising from the contrast between the profuse honours paid to him a few years earlier and his present retirement, he proposed to produce his last composition at Berlin, and so revenge the neglect of the Viennese. To prevent this artistic disgrace upon their city, thirty of the most distinguished musicians and lovers of music in the Austrian capital, including his unswerving friends of the Lichnowsky family, signed a memorial, representing their reverence for him, and entreating him to give the first performance of these works in Vienna. The result of this correspondence was a concert at the Kärntnerthor theatre, May 7, 1824, at which the Overture in C, Op. 124, the Kyrie, Credo, and Agnus from the Mass, and the Choral Symphony were performed. Umlauf, with Beethoven by his side to indicate the tempos, conducted the orchestra, and the theatre was crowded to excess. The applause at the conclusion was tumultuous; but this gave occasion to an incident perhaps the most pathetic in the whole history of art. He whose renown had called the multitude together, he whose genius had kindled the general enthusiasm, stood in the midst insensible to the sounds that stimulated the delight of all around him, insensible to the vociferations that expressed it, until Sontag and Ungher, who had been singing the principal parts, turned his face towards the public, and proved, by the waving handkerchiefs and the universal motions of excitement, to his organs of sight, the genuine triumph of which his ears refused him testimony. The pealing cheer this spectacle drew from the very hearts of all who witnessed it, penetrated even Beethoven's deafness, and he must have quitted the scene with the consciousness of having set the seal upon his immortality.
He now proposed to himself a series of grand orchestral works; but he was prevented from entering upon this design by the application of Prince Nicolas Galitzin for three violin quartets, of which, for the consideration of seventy-five ducats, he was to have possession for a year before they were published. Beethoven immediately wrote, therefore, the Quartet in E flat; but he was delayed in the fulfilment of his commission by the illness at the beginning of 1825 that obliged him to forego the last proposed visit to London, on the recovery from which he wrote the Quartet in A minor, containing the "Song of Thanksgiving," and then the great Quartet in B flat. M. Schindler, in most unmeasured terms, vilifies the prince for the non-fulfilment of his contract upon the receipt of the compositions; but he in 1854, not having till then met with M. Schindler's biography, published in the German, French and English musical journals, a refutation of the calumny, in the documents that duly acknowledged the stipulated payment.
It had been proposed to Beethoven by Haslinger, the Viennese publisher, to let him print a complete edition of his works, with such corrections or modifications as he might choose to make, and with most explicit indications of the tempos and other directions as to the manner in which they should be performed. This suggestion greatly pleased him; but it was coupled with a condition that the same house should have the exclusive right of purchasing, upon a fixed scale of terms, whatever he might write for the future. Such a restriction was quite incompatible with the composer's feeling of independence, and the scheme was therefore rejected. About the time at which we have now arrived, Johann Beethoven (who had proved himself the best man of business in the family, by retiring upon a competent fortune, raised from the sum Ludwig had furnished to start him in the world) recalled his brother's attention to the complete edition, advising him to publish it on his own account; this temptation to become a speculator was very great; but, though much time was spent in calculating its results, and considering how to avoid interference with assigned copyrights, the project was never carried into effect.
With the considerate design of drawing the emperor's attention to him, and raising him in court esteem, if not gaining for him a court appointment, Beethoven's early stedfast friend, Count Moritz Lichnowsky, procured him a commission to write a Mass for the imperial chapel; he was also besought to compose an opera for Berlin, and, after long protracted discussion, he proceeded so far as to decide upon the national tale of Melusine (that which Mendelssohn has illustrated in his overture) for the subject, and to arrange with the poet Grillparzer, the plan upon which this was to be conducted; further, he projected an oratorio, for which the same author was to furnish the text, to be called "Der Sieg des Kreuzes;" but neither of these three important intentions was carried into effect.
Another great work for a considerable time occupied his thoughts, and he advanced so far with it as to make, according to his wont, many sketches of the chief ideas and their development; this was a tenth symphony, to the composition of which he had been urgently pressed by our Philharmonic Society, and to which the earnest attention of his last moments was applied. He left also some fragments of a violin quintet, but this can scarcely have been the work respecting which he corresponded with Ries in 1819, and of which there is no evidence besides the statement in his letter that it had been sent to London. His latest finished composition was the last movement, as it is printed, of the great Quartet in B flat, which he wrote at the request of Artaria, the publisher, in substitution for the fugue, Op. 133, that originally formed the conclusion of this extensive work. The very strong analogy, in the conception and the development, between the movement which was the last fruit of his genius and several productions of earlier stages in his career, is a striking proof that, whatever of novelty may appear in his so-called third style, this is but the expansion of his original nature, not, as some critics pretend, an aberration from it.
To state succinctly his estimation of other musicians, it may be said that he ranked Handel pre-eminent, but loved the works of Mozart, and reverenced those he knew (probably a very small proportion) of S. Bach, he spoke slightingly of Rossini, thought highly of Schubert, and greeted Weber with a cordiality that proved his admiration. His letter to Cherubini, soliciting his interest to obtain the French king's patronage of the "Mass," has less of sincerity in its manner than anything which has reached us, and we must therefore wait for other testimony of his high appreciation of this composer.
His habits were, to rise early, to write till dinner-time in the middle of the day, to walk for some two hours, during which he arranged his thoughts, and to extemporise on the pianoforte or violin till he went to bed, which was seldom later than ten o'clock. Though disorderly in his dress, he was excessively cleanly in his person; and, however ill-regulated, his household was frugal. His last illness fell upon him in the autumn of 1826; it soon proved to be dropsy; he suffered immensely, and was tapped three times. His groundless fear of poverty caused him during this period extreme anxiety, under which he wrote, through Moscheles, to our Philharmonic Society, requesting pecuniary assistance; and, to the lasting honour of this institution be it recorded, the first return of post carried him an order for £100 sterling. This reached him but a few days before his death, but he had no occasion for its use; and on his decease there were found among his effects
