Photograph of Brahms.BRAHMS AT THE AGE OF 40.
The appearance of these two works as Op. 51, Nos. 1 and 2, forms, as we have said, another and important landmark in the development of Brahms' career. The String Quartet holds a position of peculiar significance in the art of music, and a composer, by selecting this form for the exercise of his powers, exposes them to the most unfailing test to which his calibre as a musician can possibly be submitted. Hemust possess not only fertility in the production of purely musical concentrated ideas, and ideas capable of development; the power to develop them, which means many things, and the capacity for shaping them into clear structure; but he must be able to express them with the most bare and simple musical means, with four strings. From the rapid effects of strong and strongly contrasted sensation producible by the pianoforte, or the varied tone-colour of the orchestra, he is precluded. With his four strings he can interest, delight, touch, but hardly astonish his hearers. The String Quartet is absolute music in its purest form, and but few works in this domain can survive their birth unless they be destined to attain a long life. The means are perfect for the end, but this is difficult of achievement; only the quartet of a master has much chance of being heard after its first few performances. It will be evident to the reader that Brahms was fitted by many essential characteristics of his genius for success in this branch of art, though it cannot cause surprise that one of his great qualities, the power of waiting for results, should have strengthened his fastidiousness in accepting as final the fruits of his studies in a form which had been brought to ideal perfection by Haydn and Beethoven, each in their day. On the great musicianship manifest in Brahms' quartets, on his mastery over his means, his power of completely balancing his four parts, of making each a separate individuality whilst all blend harmoniously as equal constituents of an organic whole, it is only necessary to insist here in so far as these qualities are elements in another feature which pre-eminently marks our master's chamber music for strings: the extraordinary beauty of its structure. Throughout the three quartets and two quintets for strings composed by Brahms there is not only no mere passage writing, but it would be difficult to point to a single note that could be called superfluous. Each seems to have been placed with loving care by the master hand of the great musical architect, the artist builder, as an essential part of the whole large design. When we examine the thoughts themselves andtheir development we find that we are, as in all Brahms' works, in the presence of a powerful and fascinating individuality. Ideas and treatment are the master's own, not easy at once to understand, but offering almost inexhaustible opportunity for discovery and enjoyment to listeners willing to earn such rewards. The two quartets, Op. 51, are more or less severally representative of contrasted sides of Brahms' individuality. The first, in C minor, is generally characterized by fire and impetuosity, exquisitely relieved by the tender romance of the second movement; No. 2, in A minor, is conceived in a softer vein. The last movement of this work contains a beautiful example of the characteristic Brahms coda; the augmented vigour of the climax is preceded by a period of tranquillity that seems to place the listener in an atmosphere of mystic exaltation, to afford him 'glimpses of a spirit world' from which the previous thoughts of the movement flow towards him in transfigured tones. Lovers of the master's music will recall a similar feature in other works. In the opening theme of the first movement, which is suggestive of Joachim's early device F.A.E.—
Music[Listen]
we may, perhaps, perceive a passing reference to the remembrance of his friend which must certainly have been present to Brahms' mind as he planned these works. Instances of the composer's mastery of the art of modulation, of his boldness and facility in going to, and returning from unexpected and distant keys, may be found in the two quartets as in the majority of his instrumental compositions. They were dedicated by Brahms to 'his friend Dr. Theodor Billroth of Vienna,' and were published in the autumn by Simrock.
Amongst those who had looked forward with particular expectancy to the opening of the great World Exhibition that was held in Vienna in the autumn of 1873 was thepainter Anselm Feuerbach. He had, the previous year, accepted the offer of an appointment as director of the historical class about to be formed in the Imperial Academy of Plastic Arts of that city, but had begged for a year's leave of absence in Rome before entering on his new duties, in order that he might finish two great pictures, 'The Battle of the Amazons' and 'The Second Symposium,' the exhibition of which he conceived likely to establish his fame and to secure him an authoritative position on taking up his residence in Austria. The nearly finished pictures were sent to Vienna in March or April, and Feuerbach followed them in May, 1873, but it turned out that they could not be hung in the Exhibition gallery on account of their great size. The painter determined, therefore, to exhibit them one after the other in the 'Künstler-Haus,' and, in order to secure the advantage of association in the mind of the public with so favourite a celebrity of Vienna as Brahms had at this time become, he requested the master to sit to him on his return in October in order that his portrait might be exhibited with the other pictures.
Feuerbach was a small man of ultra-refined appearance and manners, and a countenance of rather melancholy expression that had evidently been of striking beauty in his youth. He was accustomed to be made much of by ladies, was extremely sensitive and self-centred, and inordinately vain, and had confidently persuaded himself that his pictures were to achieve an instant and overwhelming success.
'My pictures are splendid and all but finished,' he wrote to his mother on October 2; 'why should I feel a moment's anxiety since I have eminent power in my hands; genius and position.... The Symposium also is quite exquisite, I may say so now as I have seen the Vatican.'[46]
Brahms, who had, as we have seen, a long-standing acquaintance with Feuerbach and sincerely admired his powers, mounted the many flights of stairs leading to theartist's temporary studio more than once. His attention was particularly called to the 'Battle of the Amazons,' on which, as it was to be exhibited first, Feuerbach was busy with the finishing touches. He mentioned it several times in a reserved manner to Groth, who was in Vienna for the Exhibition, saying he was anxious to have his opinion of it, and persuaded him to pay a visit to the studio one day to be presented to Feuerbach. Groth, however, on coming away, found that he was unable, as Brahms had been, to express himself warmly about the great painting, and merely agreed with our master in 'not understanding' it. Brahms, intimately acquainted with the artist circles of Vienna, evidently could not shake off his apprehension as to the result of the exhibition, and took an opportunity of speaking a word of warning to Feuerbach, advising him to be cautious, and to introduce himself to his new public with a smaller work. The integrity of the composer's ideas of friendship and the misunderstanding of his motives which was its frequent result, as well as the general soundness of his judgment in matters on which he ventured to give advice, are well illustrated by the affair. His words produced an immediate effect very different from that intended by him. The wound they inflicted on the irritable susceptibility of the painter was so painful as to deprive him of the power of concentrating his mind upon the 'Amazons' for several subsequent days, and he found it impossible to go on with Brahms' portrait.
'Another evening spoilt by Brahms,' he wrote on November 3; and again: 'I was not for a second angry with Brahms, but I have put his canvas aside for the present.' It was never taken up again.
The pictures were duly exhibited in turn, and it may be said that the final breakdown of Feuerbach's never robust constitution was the ultimate result. Not criticism only or even chiefly, but torrents of contempt, derision, insult were poured upon his work.
'A storm broke over my head by which I could at least reassure myself as to the importance of my pictures. Icould not sit down to table without finding jests, raillery, caricature—unfortunately always bad—beside my plate, and the story of my discomfiture was related in the house from roof to cellar. I was told that everyone, from the professor to the porter's boy, was laughing at my bad picture.'
'Almost the entire press, independent and mercenary alike, was arrayed against Feuerbach,' says Allgeyer.
His pupils, however, offered him the mute sympathy and support of punctual attendance and respectful attention at class, and the Minister remained loyal to him. He retained his appointment till the close of 1876, though ill-health prevented him from performing his duties during the last half-year. He died at Nürnburg in 1880. His friendship with our master did not terminate with the incident of the pictures.
'Brahms has lent me his fur-coat for my journey,' he wrote in February, 1875, on the eve of his departure for Rome.
The 'Battle of the Amazons' was presented by the artist's mother to the city of Nürnburg in the year 1889, and hangs there in the picture gallery of the Town Hall. Many of the studies for the 'Amazons' and the 'Symposium' were purchased by King Ludwig II. of Bavaria, and presented by him to the Royal Pinakothek at Munich.
Of the many letters of congratulation received by Allgeyer after the appearance of his 'Life of Feuerbach' in 1894, one of those most highly prized by him came from Brahms.
Brahms paid one visit to the great Exhibition in the company of Groth and other friends, though the noise and bustle of such a scene were by no means to his taste. He was more anxious that his friend should see and hear what was really characteristic of Vienna. 'You must go to the Volksgarten on Friday evening when Johann Strauss will conduct his waltzes.Thereis a master; such a master of the orchestra that one never loses a single tone of whatever instrument!'
Having promised to arrange a meeting between Frau Dustmann of the imperial opera and Groth, Brahms came to the poet's hotel one morning, and entering the room where he was lying in bed with a bad feverish cold, exclaimed delightedly: 'Come to me this evening, the Dustmann will sing to you.' 'But you see I am ill,' returned Groth testily. 'You will be astonished,' continued Brahms, whose boast it was that he had never in his life been really ill, 'thereis a singer,thereis an artist;shewill please you!' 'Ah, my dear fellow, I really cannot come,' pleaded the other, 'Johann has just put a cold compress on, I am so miserable!' 'She is very seldom free just now; she cannot come another day.' 'Surely you see how miserable I am. How I should like to come, but I cannot,' persisted Groth. Then Brahms turned to go. 'You are a Philistine!' he declared angrily as he left the room.[47]
The ante-Christmas season of 1873, signalized on its immediate opening by the performance of the String Quartet in A minor at Berlin, already referred to, was further rendered distinctive in Brahms' career by the first performance from the manuscript of the Variations for Orchestra on a theme by Haydn, which took place at the Vienna Philharmonic of November 2 under Dessoff's direction. The masterly and attractive work consists, as most amateurs are aware, of eight variations and a finale on the 'Chorale St. Antoni.' The composer adheres almost entirely to Haydn's harmonies in the giving out of the theme. The variations are constructed on the principle often observable in his works in this form; they constitute, as it were, a series of little movements each woven more or less appreciably from the matter of the chorale, but each with a character of its own and complete in itself, while the entire composition is gathered together and rounded into a whole by the finale. Brahms' vivid and original imagination of tone-effect is very clearly discernible throughout the work, and is especially illustrated in it by his original and effective employment of the double bassoon.
The variations were received by the crowded audience, and reviewed by the press, with warm welcome and with grateful appreciation of their beauty and perfection, if with some trace of disappointment that he who 'held the sceptre' in the domain of music for the chamber and the concert-room, and must of all living musicians be pre-eminently qualified for the composition of a symphony, should be the very man to refrain from writing one. Brahms, however, was well aware of the gigantic difficulty of the task that lay before him in the writing of a symphony that should successfully encounter that ordeal of comparison with the greatest works of its class which had become inevitable by the fact of his acknowledged supremacy in other forms. The ultimate cause of his delay and the pledge of his future victory are alike to be found in the nature of his artistic convictions, which, holding him loyal to the traditions of the past masters of instrumental music, made it impossible to him to seek novelty by compromising with modern methods. Brahms elected to wait until, with the gradual ripening of his powers to full maturity, he should feel, not only that he had something of his own to say in the highest domain of pure music, but that he had mastered the power of expressing it in a manner true to himself. Had he never felt assured on these two points it is certain that no symphony of his would ever have been made public, no matter to what sum of months the hours might amount which he had devoted to the study and practice of writing for the orchestra. Having now given a sign of his whereabouts he again drew a veil over the course of his artistic development, and, appearing before the public during the next three years only on ground which he had already made his own, revealed no more upward stages of his achievement until he at length stood victoriously before the world on its summit.
The variations were performed for the second time on December 10 under Levi in Munich.
The Gesellschaft season opened under Brahms' direction on November 9, with Beethoven's Overture, Op. 115, andHandel's 'Alexander's Feast.' A varied programme was given at the second concert of December 7:
The publications of the year, all issued in the autumn, were, in addition to the String Quartets, the version for two Pianofortes of the Haydn Variations (Op. 56b), by Simrock, and a set of eight Songs (Op. 59), by Rieter-Biedermann. Of these, four are set to texts by Claus Groth, which include 'Rain-songs' and the lovely 'Dein blaues Auge hält so still.' The Variations for Orchestra were published by Simrock in 1874.
Brahms was at this time quite immersed in his various kinds of work.
'I am so enormously occupied that I see my best friends only very rarely and by accident,' he wrote in December to the present author.
It had now become his custom to decline invitations for the Christmas festival, and to spend it, partly at the open-air Christmas market, where he made himself happy by purchasing gifts for the poor children whom he found crowding round the tempting wares, and partly at home, where he would look in for half an hour at the family party gathered in front of his landlady's Christmas-tree; no doubt contributing his share to the surprises of Christmas Eve, the 'sacred evening' when, throughout the length and breadthof Germany and Austria, innumerable trees are lighted up at about the same hour, and the great exchange takes place of presents to which, in many cases, the preparation and savings of a year have been consecrated. A New Year's present of a special kind received by Brahms this winter was the Maximilian Order for Art and Science conferred on him by King Ludwig II. of Bavaria.
The year 1874 was unusually full of movement and varied excitement for our composer. From January onwards he was besieged with invitations, many of which he accepted, to conduct his works at concerts and festivals in North Germany, the Rhine, Switzerland, and was obliged to reply in the negative to Dietrich's request, received in the beginning of spring, that he would include Oldenburg in his arrangements.
'Dear Friend,
'I am more than sorry, but you are too late! I have already promised so much, and shall not be coming to your neighbourhood!
'If you had written earlier I could have arranged with Hanover, Bremen, etc., for,seriously, I should be too glad to go to you again....'
The third Gesellschaft concert of the season (1873-74) took place on January 25. That the performances under Brahms would be above criticism had become by this time almost a foregone conclusion, and, beyond recording the great success achieved by Goldmark's 'Hymn of Spring,' it is only necessary to give the programme of the occasion:
A few days later Brahms left Vienna to fulfil a group of engagements in Leipzig, a circumstance which in itselfaffords some indication of the rapid strides by which his career had lately been advancing towards the full sunshine of success that was to flood the latter portion of his path through life.
The relations between Brahms and the city which owed its brilliant reputation as a musical centre to Mendelssohn's influence had been at no time really sympathetic. The attitude of expectant toleration that had been more or less adopted towards him by both its extreme parties after his first visit in 1853 had resulted on the one hand from Schumann's essay, and on the other, from the confidence felt by the Weimarites and expressed by Liszt that his 'new paths' must eventually bring him into close touch with themselves. Gradually, however, it, became clear how mistaken was the belief that the young musician would drift towards acceptance of the extreme new tendencies, whilst the originality of his musical thoughts and of his manner of expressing them was abhorrent to the inflexible conservatism that had come to represent the traditions of the Gewandhaus. If, moreover, there is every reason to surmise that Mendelssohn himself had no hearty appreciation of Schumann's genius, it is equally probable that neither Rietz, who conducted the Gewandhaus concerts from 1848 to 1860, nor Reinecke, who succeeded him, was in very warm sympathy with that of Brahms, and the predilections of the public followed those of their accredited guides.
Brahms' works were, it is true, generally given at the orchestral or chamber concerts of the Gewandhaus soon after publication, but, excepting the Triumphlied, with its special appeal to the patriotic sentiment of the great German people, they met with but scanty response from an audience little accustomed to the exertion of trying to follow the expression of a new and original artistic individuality. That Reinecke was by no means an ideal conductor of them naturally resulted from the fact that by training, by conviction, and by practice, he was attached to a rigidly formal school of modern musical thought, and it can surprise no one that he should have been unableentirely to realize the deeper and richer utterances of Schumann's young prophet. Brahms' chamber music fared differently in the hands of David, who was almost alone amongst the authorities of the Gewandhaus in his sympathy for the composer's genius. To these considerations it must be added that not only the pianist, but the composer Rubinstein, had, as we indicated in an early chapter, an enthusiastic following amongst the typical Leipzig public who were disposed to resent any claim to recognition that might threaten to rival that of their favourite.
In spite, however, of the fact that Brahms was no party man, in Leipzig, as in almost every other city where his music was heard, it struck a root, imperceptible at first, but growing deeper and stronger and more extended with every year that went by. The attention bestowed on it by Brendel's society has been frequently referred to in these pages; it was cultivated, also, by Riedel's celebrated choir. A more representative illustration, however, of a certain mysterious power inherent in Brahms' works of finding their way sooner or later, and not seldom it is sooner, to the heart, in spite of their intellectuality, their difficulty, their reserve, is furnished by the case of two sisters, daughters of the head of one of the great bookselling houses of Leipzig. The Fräulein Weigand did not live in a musical 'set,' nor were they personally acquainted with Brahms or his friends, but not long after their first casual introduction to his music in the middle of the sixties, when they were young girls, the appearance of each of his new works had come to be an event in their lives. 'You from Leipzig!' exclaimed Hermann Levi, with whom the sisters had a passing acquaintance in the summer of 1871. It was not until three months before the composer's death that these ladies had any personal communication with him. Then, hearing of his hopeless illness, they resolved to address him for the first and last time, and in January, 1897, they wrote to him telling how they had always loved his music and followed his career. No one who really knew him will doubt the pleasure that the letter gave to the dying master. Inanswer he sent his photograph with his autograph, 'Johannes Brahms,' and the inscription, 'To the two sisters as a little token of heart-felt thanks for their so kind account.'
Of the professional critics of Leipzig, Bernsdorf of the Signale remained to the last irreconcilable to Brahms' art; but, on the other hand, Dörffel of theLeipziger Nachrichtenwatched the appearance of his works with profound interest and reviewed them with extreme sympathy and acumen. There was during the sixties no influential 'Brahms' community in musical Leipzig, no active 'Brahms' propaganda in the houses of wealthy amateurs. Such occasional admirers as the composer may have had in this circle were to be met in the drawing-room of the lady introduced to the reader in an early chapter as Hedwig Salamon, since married to the composer Franz von Holstein. At the beginning of the seventies, however, a few well-known residents were to be found who had a strong bond of union in their common sympathy with Brahms' genius. Of these, in addition to the von Holsteins, may be particularly mentioned Philipp Spitta, now remembered in all parts of the musical world as the author of the standard Bach Biography, Alfred Volkland, Herr Astor, of the firm of Rieter-Biedermann, and later on its head, and the distinguished composer Heinrich von Herzogenberg, who settled in Leipzig in 1872 on his marriage with Elisabeth von Stockhausen. This lady, endowed in an extraordinary degree with beauty, goodness, intellectual and artistic gifts, domestic qualities, and any other imaginable graces and perfections, soon came to be numbered with her husband amongst the ardent devotees of Brahms' art. It will be convenient to mention here also that Theodor Kirchner settled in Leipzig in 1875, the year in which Spitta accepted a call to Berlin.
All these circumstances put together seem to explain the master's visit to Leipzig, where he had made no public appearance since the Gewandhaus concert of November 26, 1860, when he and Joachim had conducted each other'sHungarian Concerto and Serenade in A major without success. Brahms was now to conduct a performance of 'Rinaldo' at a concert of the University Choral Society at the Gewandhaus on February 3, and the Haydn Variations, three Hungarian Dances, and the 'Rhapsody' (solo, Frau Joachim) at the Gewandhaus subscription concert of February 5. His presence in Leipzig was further welcomed by the performance of the G minor Pianoforte Quartet at the Gewandhaus chamber concert of February 1, and by the performance of a Brahms programme by theAllgemeiner Musikvereinon January 30. On January 17 one of the string quartets had been performed at the Gewandhaus concert by David and his party.
The moment when Brahms stepped on to the Gewandhaus platform, the acknowledged representative, in at least two domains of musical art, of the greatest masters who had preceded him, must have been one of quiet satisfaction to himself if he cast a thought backward to the evening, more than thirteen years ago, when he had last appeared in the same hall, and, not for the first time, unsuccessfully sought the suffrages of the same public. Even now, however, though he was received with the respect due to a musician of his great standing, he was not to taste the enjoyment of feeling that he had aroused the enthusiasm, hardly that he had awakened the sympathy, of his audience. The Gewandhaus public, rarely demonstrative, preserved its special attitude of coldness and reserve towards him, and though he may have enjoyed the society of his personal friends, he was probably glad to find himself back again in the genial atmosphere of his surroundings in Vienna, where, in spite of the survival of a hostile attitude in certain organs of the press, his ground had become practically his own.
The Haydn Variations were performed in February or March at Breslau (twice), Aachen and Münster, under the respective conductors of the subscription concerts, and on March 13 the composer assisted, but with little success, in the performance of a Brahms programme at an Academyconcert, Munich, under Levi, conducting the new work, and playing the solo of the D minor Concerto. In spite of Levi's continued efforts the musical circles of Munich remained indifferent to the master's music. The Haydn Variations were heard for the first time in London at the Philharmonic concert of May 24, 1875, under W. G. Cusins.
The programmes performed at the two 'extra' concerts of the Vienna Gesellschaft were: On March 2—
On March 31—Handel's 'Solomon.'
'We can only thank the conductor for bringing this work forward; the performance was ideal,' says one of the critics in his notice of the oratorio.
The last concert of the season, on April 19, presented a varied programme:
Brahms' leisure was considerably curtailed this summer. Of the numerous engagements fulfilled by him after the close of the Vienna concert-season three may be particularly mentioned. He conducted the Triumphlied at the first concert of the Rhine Festival (Cologne, May 24-27), at the Jubilee anniversary concert of the Basle Choral Society, and at a concert of the Zürich Music Festival (July), and on each occasion the great song was received with acclamation. With this work we may, perhaps, especially associate the honour of the Prussian Ordre pour le Mérite which wasconferred later on the composer by the Emperor William I. He was elected an honorary member of the Royal Academy of Arts, Berlin, in the course of the summer.
'Brahms is becoming so popular,' writes Billroth on June 2, 'and is everywhere made so much of, that he could easily become a rich man with his composition if he could take it lightly. Fortunately this is not the case.'
The Triumphlied was performed in the German imperial capital on December 17, 1874, under Stockhausen. It was given under Levi at the great Bismarck Festival in Munich, and was heard in London at a concert given in St. James's Hall by George Henschel, December 2, 1880, for the benefit of the Victoria Hospital for Children, Chelsea.
The magnificent work is now but seldom performed: partly, no doubt, because it was composed to celebrate a particular series of events in history, partly because of the difficulty of securing the large chorus necessary for its due effect, partly, perhaps, on account of the demands it makes on the attention of the listener. Whatever be the cause, the fact itself is to be deeply regretted. The work has sometimes been criticised as wanting in contrast of mood. Undoubtedly it is, from beginning to end, a song of passionate exultation which scarcely makes pause from the first note to the last, and the listener requires time and repeated hearings to become familiarized with its brilliancy before he can follow it with pleasure; but it is full of varied features of interest to lay hearers, and especially to those who will devote a little time to its study before listening to its performance. To the musician it appeals as a marvel of polyphonic art, though it contains no elaborated features of harmonic or contrapuntal learning that might have been prejudicial to its character as a national strain. It is literally 'a sound of many voices saying Alleluia.'
The master lodged this summer near Nidelbad, above Rüschlikon on Lake Zürich. Amongst the friends and acquaintances old and new with whom he had intercourse were Bargheer, Hegar, G. Eberhard, Gottfried Keller,Bernhard Hopfer, Professor and Frau Engelmann from Utrecht, and J. V. Widmann. Brahms made Widmann's acquaintance at this time at the house of Hermann Götz, and seems to have been immediately attracted by him; partly, perhaps, because the younger man had the courage of his opinions, and ventured to oppose him in argument. The acquaintance, cemented during the three days of the Zürich Festival, grew into an intimate and lasting friendship, to which the musical world is indebted for Widmann's well-known and delightful 'Recollections,' already several times referred to in these pages.
Hegar mentions[48]that the works which occupied Brahms during his stay at Rüschlikon were the second set of Liebeslieder, the book of songs, Lieder and Gesänge, Op. 63, and the Vocal Quartets, Op. 64. It was at this time, also, that he finally completed the Pianoforte Quartet in C minor. The songs and quartets were published in the autumn by Peters; the four Duets for Soprano and Contralto, Op. 61, and the seven Songs for mixed Chorus,a capella, Op. 62, were issued about the same time by Simrock. The Neue Liebeslieder and the C minor Quartet for Pianoforte and Strings did not appear till 1875.
From this time onward Brahms' copyrights were acquired, as each new work was completed, by Simrock of Berlin, with only four exceptions—Nänie, Op. 82; six Vocal Quartets, Op. 112; thirteen Canons, Op. 113, which were bought by Peters of Leipzig; and a Prelude and Fugue for Organ, published in 1881 as a supplement to theMusikalisches Wochenblattwithout opus number. In future, therefore, we shall mention the publication, but not the publisher, of the works. Those compositions which were originally acquired from the composer by Breitkopf and Härtel were resold by this firm to Simrock later on, and appear, therefore, in the complete published catalogue of Brahms' works as Simrock's publications.
The third and, as it turned out, the last season of Brahms' work as artistic director of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreundeopened in due course, and at the two ante-Christmas concerts of the season 1874-75 the following programmes were performed: On November 8—
On December 6—Beethoven's Missa Solemnis in D major.
Neither concert seems to have reached the usual high-water mark of success. Of the first programme the items most heartily appreciated were the three choral part-songs, which, attractive in themselves and sung to perfection, were applauded to the echo. Of doubtful wisdom was the selection of the pianist of the occasion. Brahms, who probably yielded to the persuasion of his committee, and was, perhaps, guided in his choice of a concerto by the circumstance of having played Beethoven in E flat in the spring at Bremen, had, as we have seen, given up regular pianoforte practice for some years, and it was inevitable that his performance should be affected by this fact. Berlioz's symphony, which may have owed its place in the programme to our master's broad view of his duties as the artistic director of an important society, was not performed with any great aplomb or heard with particular favour, though extra time and particular pains had been spent on its rehearsal.
Beethoven's great Mass, given on December 6, was followed with strained attention that was rewarded by a good, though, if Brahms' supporters in the press are to be trusted, not a perfect, performance.
'How different are these days from those of the forties,' remarks one of the critics, 'when many a music lover would rise and leave the room before the commencement of a work by Beethoven.'
The String Quartet in A minor was performed for the first time in Vienna at Hellmesberger's concert of December 3, when the andante and scherzo met with considerable appreciation.
'I have heard the string quartets several times this winter,' writes Billroth in January, 1875. When we played them in Carlsruhe as pianoforte duets, we took all the tempi much too fast. Brahms desires very moderatetempithroughout, as otherwise, owing to the frequent harmonic changes, the music cannot become clear.... Beethoven, Schumann, Wagner, Brahms, in their riper works of the last period, all have a preference for the andantetempo.
'If you should infer from all I have said that I am much with Brahms, you would be mightily mistaken. I have only seen him twice during the whole winter.... We correspond, however; he is pleased when I write to him about his things.'
The composer was plunged in his own special work, and would allow neither private nor public calls to occupy his attention, though he made an exception in favour of Bernhard Scholz's invitation to pay an artistic visit to Breslau at the close of the year. His doings during the next few months afford but little material to chronicle, and we have to record only the last four Gesellschaft programmes given under his direction, and to lay special stress upon the extraordinary scene of enthusiasm that followed the performance of the German Requiem on February 28, 1875. The rendering of the work on this occasion was one of those, rarely occurring, which seem to hold the audience spellbound by a magnetic sympathy with the music. It brought with it in some mysterious way the sudden flash of revelation. The whole audience, as it were, knew Brahms that day, and most of what was left to be conquered, that was worth conquering, in the musical opinion of Vienna was finally captured. The phenomenal demonstration, joined in by musicians of all schools, Wagnerians not excepted, that occurred on the termination of the great work, noteworthy from its contrast with that earlier one of 1867 which followed the performance of the first three choruses, was the morestriking since Wagner had conducted some excerpts from the 'Ring' in the same hall a few days previously, and had been the recipient of a similar ovation.
January 10, 1875:
February 28:
Good Friday, March 23:
April 18:
At the close of the season Brahms laid down his conductor's bâton to make room for the return of Herbeck, whose former services, especially in the formation of an independent orchestra, had laid the society under a debt of gratitude, and who, unable to endure the annoyances incidental to his position as capellmeister of the opera, resigned the post. Brahms continued his association with the Gesellschaft as a member of the committee, taking great interest in its councils, and exercising influence on the concert-programmes and the appointment of professors to the conservatoire. Each year that went by added to the warmth of the esteem with which he was personally regarded and to the deference shown to his judgment by the members of the society, who were all proud of this link of association with him.
Writing in May to his stepmother from idyllic summer quarters, he says:
'Dear Mother,
'I will let you know in haste, that I am living quite delightfully at Zigelhausen near Heidelberg. Thank you also for the socks you have again knitted for me.... I am not leaving Vienna, I have only given up my appointment. You do not know the circumstances, and it would be too prolix to tell you why. I am, however, remaining there—and gladly. Write to me if you want money now, or later when the holidays come off!...
'Affectionately YourJohannes.'
'I must tell you that people are very often surprised at my knitted socks, and that I am taken such good care of!'[49]
'Brahms has had very interesting programmes. Unfortunately we have lost him and Dessoff (Philharmonic) as conductors. Both have been pushed out, and both pushed out by Herbeck,' writes Billroth in the month of June.
Brahms invited Dietrich to visit him at Zigelhausen.
'I saw his new works, but cannot now be quite sure which they were,' says Dietrich in his 'Recollections.'
We may confidently conjecture that chief amongst them must have been the first symphony, upon the completion of which Brahms was at this time concentrating his attention, and it is probable that he also showed the sketches of the second symphony to his old friend.
It was this year that Brahms consented to become a member for the music section of a commission for the awarding of certain gratuities granted annually by the Austrian Government to poor artists of talent who have produced promising works. Three members appointed by the Minister of Education for each of three sections—poetry, music, and the plastic arts—examine the applications and work sent, and judge between them. The fund was established in 1863, and the original adjudicators in the music section were Hanslick, Herbeck, and Essen. Brahms now replaced Essen,and a little later Goldmark succeeded Herbeck. The compositions were sent in the first place to Hanslick, who generally made a selection from them for Brahms' inspection, keeping back such as did not fulfil the required conditions or were hopelessly bad. In theNeue Freie Presseof June 29, 1897, Hanslick made public a few of the communications he had received from Brahms on these occasions, the first of which, dated September, 1875, was as follows:
'Dear Friend,
'Parcels such as your last are generally so thorny that some kind preliminary guidance like yours is most welcome and necessary as a help in finding one's way through. This time, however, things are not so bad, and seem to me fairly simple. Dvořák and Reinhold thoroughly deserve your proposal by their performances. In Lachner's case (blind) well-justified sympathy counts for something. M. certainly merits some help meanwhile. I mean he ought to win the money more decidedly next year. N. N. alone appears to me so undeserving of the gratuity that it might be given uselessly in his case. Just look again at his small and great sins. They are the most unmusical in the packet. Alas, if he should progress further! At all events he should desire and use the money for instruction and not for a libretto!'
The Quartet in C minor for pianoforte and strings, published in the autumn, was produced at Hellmesberger's concert of November 18 by Brahms, Hellmesberger, Bachrich, and Popper, and was played in Hamburg on January 3, 1876, by Levin, Böie, Schmall, and Lee.
This composition must, as the reader is aware,[50]be referred to more than one period of Brahms' activity, and it can hardly be accepted as a representative work of either. Standing about midway, as to date of publication, between his two great series of masterpieces for pianoforte and strings, if it is to be classed amongst either, it must indubitably be reckoned with that of the sixties. Internal no less than external evidence, however, leaves little doubt that it points back to a still earlier date. The master ofthe seventies has so far succeeded in remodelling the work of early youth as to have given to the world in the quartet an interesting, and, on the whole, a clear, presentment of many noble musical thoughts, but it can hardly be said that he has effected its transformation into a homogeneous or apparently spontaneous work of art. Kalbeck mentions that a memorandum of Brahms assigns the date 1873-74 to the third and fourth movements. This, however, may probably refer only to their final completion. The second movement (the scherzo), which undoubtedly belongs to the period of the pianoforte sonata numbered as Op. 1, is consistently characteristic of the composer at that date. The first and third movements suggest a transition period. The character of the ideas of the opening allegro with its impressive, deeply serious, first subject, and of the andante with its sustained melodious phrases, seems to give promise of the power which, manifested in a different mood, was reached in the earlier-published companion works. Of the finale it must be said that its themes are lacking in interest and developed mechanically. It may be surmised that the composer's pruning-knife was freely used in the course of his successive revisions of the work, and perhaps not only for the purpose of shortening it, but also for that of thinning out the score. From the circumstance that this is neither so luxuriant in detail nor so thickly instrumented as those of the other two pianoforte quartets, the C minor has, perhaps, the one advantage amongst the three of being the most readily appreciable at first hearing. It must, however, as the author conceives, be rated, as a completed work of art, decidedly below its glorious companions.
The relative popularity attained by the three pianoforte quartets in England may be fairly estimated by comparing the numbers of their respective performances at the Popular Concerts, London. The A major, introduced in January, 1872, was given ten times up to October, 1900, inclusive. The G minor, first performed in January, 1874, was given twenty-six times up to March, 1900. The C minor, first played in November, 1876, was not heard again until December, 1893.
Tour in Holland—Third String Quartet—C minor Symphony—First performances—Varying impressions created by the work in Vienna and Leipzig—Brahms and Widmann at Mannheim—Second Symphony—Vienna and Leipzig differ as to its merits.
A journey to Holland early in 1876 brought unmixed gratification to the master. He conducted the Haydn Variations, and played the D minor Concerto at Utrecht on January 22 before an audience which received him with warm greeting, and gave every possible evidence of appreciation of his works. Immense applause followed each movement of the concerto, and at its close, when enthusiasm was at its height, two youthful ladies advanced to the platform, each bearing a cushion on which a wreath was placed, one decorated with ribbons of the Austrian colours (black and yellow), the other with those of Holland (red, white, and blue), which they smilingly presented to the composer. Brahms, not always inclined to receive tributes of the kind with urbanity, entered thoroughly into the happy spirit of this occasion, and showed plainly by his manner of accepting the compliment his pleasure at the charming way in which it had been offered. He was the guest during his several days' stay at Utrecht of Professor and Frau Engelmann, in whose house he at once became at home, dividing his time between walking, talking, playing with the children, making music with his hostess, seeing friends, and was in genial mood throughout the visit. It may be remarkeden passantthat Brahms in a companionable frame of mind was not accustomed to let his friends off easily. His constitutionwas so robust, his spirit so active, his interests so numerous, that he liked, and expected others to like, to sit up talking with vivacity until the small hours of the morning, and would rise after about five hours' rest as unwearied and energetic as though he had had what would be for most people a normal amount of repose. It was a matter of course wherever he stayed that the means for making a cup of coffee should be left every night at his disposal for the next morning, and he generally returned from an early walk at about the hour when the household was beginning to stir.
After leaving Holland the master took part as conductor and pianist in concerts at Münster, where he directed the Triumphlied, Mannheim and Wiesbaden, playing the D minor Concerto on each occasion. He was, of course, the guest at Münster of Grimm and his wife. At Mannheim he stayed with his friend the well-known capellmeister Ernst Frank, who in the course of his career was associated as conductor with the musical life of Würzburg, Vienna, Mannheim, and Hanover. The Wiesbaden concert is still vividly remembered by the present Landgraf of Hesse, who, then a young lad, heard Brahms for the first time on the occasion, and received an impression which laid the foundation of his enduring enthusiasm for the master's art.
Staying in the summer at Sassnitz in the Isle of Rügen, Brahms there completed his third String Quartet in B flat major, and announced the work in September to Professor Engelmann, to whom it is dedicated. It was played in Berlin before a private audience towards the end of October by the Joachim Quartet party, and by the same artists for the first time in public at their concert of October 30 in the hall of the Singakademie, on both occasions from the manuscript. The first concert performance after publication was that of the Hellmesberger party on November 30 in Vienna.
The general remarks offered in the preceding chapter on Brahms' chamber music for strings are to be applied to the Quartet in B flat major. Of its particular characteristicswe may note the joyousness of the first movement, and the weird fantastic pathos of the third, in which a special relation is maintained between the viola and first violin. In the theme—of distinguished simplicity—and variations, with which the work closes, we have a concise but beautiful example of the composer's facility in this form.
The String Quartet in B flat was the first of the three composed by Brahms to be heard at the Popular Concerts, London. It was played on Monday, February 19, and Saturday, March 3, 1877, by Joachim, Ries, Straus, and Piatti. The A minor was performed on Monday, October 31, 1881, by Straus, Ries, Zerbini, and Piatti, and the C minor on Monday, December 7, 1855, by Madame Norman-Néruda, Ries, Straus, and Franz Néruda. These (Op. 51, Nos. 1 and 2) were not immediately repeated.
The great event of the year 1876 in the career of Brahms was the appearance of the long looked for symphony. As in the case of the Schicksalslied and the completed Triumphlied, the composer chose to produce his work for the first time at Carlsruhe, preferring, maybe, to test it for his own satisfaction in the comparative privacy of a small audience before submitting it to the searching ordeal of performance in either of the great musical centres of the Continent. The musical life of Carlsruhe had suffered sadly by the departure of Levi in 1872, and it was not until the appointment of Dessoff to the post of court capellmeister, on his resignation of his duties in Vienna in 1875, that the city began to regain some of its former artistic prestige. The performance on November 4, 1876, from the manuscript, of Brahms' first Symphony by the grand ducal orchestra under Dessoff, in the composer's presence, was a musical event that revived the recollections of a brilliant past, and added a new and abiding distinction to the artistic traditions of the small capital.
The work was heard a few days later in Mannheim, and on the 15th of the month in Munich; on both occasions under the composer's direction. Four other performances from the manuscript quickly followed—in Vienna (Gesellschaft),December 17, in Leipzig, January 18, and Breslau, January 23, 1877, in each case under the composer, and in Cambridge, March 8, 1877, under Joachim's direction.
The Symphony in C minor, whose appearance marks the period of Brahms' achievement in the highest domain of absolute music, and the last that remained to him for conquest, is in the first place remarkable from the fact that it cannot properly be ranged beside the works in the same form produced by either of the two masters who were, chronologically speaking, his immediate predecessors. By its accomplishment, no less than by its aim, it must be regarded as the immediate successor to the symphonies of Beethoven in the same sense as these were the direct descendants of the symphonies of Mozart and Haydn, and it establishes Brahms' right to be accepted in its own domain as the heir,par excellence, of one and all of these masters. This alone were much. Still more important, however, is the fact that our composer has known how to graft upon the symphony form inherited from Beethoven, Mozart, and Haydn, the giant stock of Bach's learning and resource, studied and absorbed by him until they had become a part of his own artistic individuality, in such a manner as to revivify it root and branch, and make it a supple instrument in his hand, not for the mechanical imitation of what had been done before him, but for the 'highest ideal musical expression of his own time.'[51]Few who listen with quickened ears to an adequate performance of the C minor Symphony can be in doubt that whilst in outward form and manner of construction it may be regarded as at once the epitome and the latest result of the past history of classical instrumental art, it is in spirit representative of its own time and even anticipatory of the future; that it not only reflects the soul of the musician, poet, and philosopher, but is suggestive of the higher vision of the prophet. It is this fact, for those who accept it as a fact, that constitutes the highest significance of Brahms' first symphony, and lends a real meaning to Bülow's well-knownapophthegm of 'the three B's': Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms.
The shrill, clashing dissonances of the first introduction at once place the listener in the atmosphere of stern grandeur, passion, mystery, that surround, not this or that human life, but existence itself, in its apprehension by human intelligence; and the allegro to which it leads seems to the present writer to present as near an analogy as art can show to the processes of nature, built up as it is—first and second subjects and their treatment—from a few notes; from what one of the Vienna critics called 'mere twigs of thematic material'; from germs which are produced and reproduced, are transformed and reformed, and developed into a great organic whole instinct with noble, living melody. The solemnly fervent andante sostenuto, the graceful, innocent allegretto with its sufficiently contrasted trio, afford the mind the refreshment of change of tone after the stormy splendour of the first movement; but the note of tragedy is resumed with the first sounds of the wonderful adagio that precedes, and essentially contains, the allegro of the fourth movement. Here, for some twenty-eight bars, the tension of feeling increases till destiny itself seems to be held in suspense; then, with the resolution of a chromatic chord, the horn sounds the unexpected major third of the key in a six-four of the tonic triad, and, continuing its strange, passionate cry, gradually disperses the mists of doubt and apprehension that have held the hearer as in a thrall, and carries him forward to the sublimity of joy that dwells in the final allegro.
'The last movement of your C minor Symphony,' wrote Billroth to Brahms in 1890, fourteen years after its first performance, 'has again lately excited me fearfully. Of what avail is the perfect, clear beauty of the principal subject in its thematically complete form? The horn returns at length with its romantic, impassioned cry as in the introduction, and all palpitates with longing, rapture and supersensuous exaltation and bliss.'
These words were not written by a fantastic dreamer, but by one of the most renowned scientific and practical surgeonsand busiest men of his time, and in using them he did not employ a mere rhetorical phrase. The quality of imagination which speaks through Brahms' first symphony is akin to that of the early Sonata in F minor, though it is expressed in the later work with the help of more than twenty years additional study and experience. It is that of a seer of visions, and seems to culminate, in the passage to which Billroth alluded, in an ecstasy of wonder and joy. Brahms undoubtedly rose to the full height of his great powers in this first symphony, which remains unsurpassed in workmanship and sustained loftiness of idea, as well as in regard to the range of emotion to which it appeals.
It goes without saying that the supposed merits and demerits of the work became the subject of heated argument between the partisans and antagonists of the composer's art, the particulars of which would scarcely prove interesting to readers of the present day. In giving some account of the first impressions made by the symphony, we shall quote from those notices only which, whilst they are in themselves not without value, appear to have been written in a candid spirit, and do not offensively betray the influence of party bias. The reputation attaching to Hanslick's name, and the moderation of his style, seem to make it necessary to include something from his report, though he was avowedly a stanch admirer of Brahms' music, and had little liking for that of the New-German school. To balance this, we shall give a few sentences from theWiener Zeitung, a journal to which, as the reader may remember, no suspicion can attach of handling our master's works with an excess of cordiality. It is necessary to explain, for the benefit of such readers as are not familiar with Brahms' large works, that the references to Beethoven's ninth symphony occurring in some of the press notices are occasioned by what has sometimes been described as Brahms' intentional allusion, in the principal theme of his finale, to Beethoven's setting of Schiller's 'Ode to Joy' in the last movement of the great 'ninth.' The so-called allusion consists, not so much in a similarity of melody in Brahms' theme to that of Beethoven, as in itsbeing written in the same hymn-form and harmonized as plainly as possible. There is no doubt whatever that everyone who listens to Brahms' first symphony thinks immediately, on the entrance of the final allegro, of Beethoven's ninth. The association passes with the conclusion of the subject; Brahms' movement develops on its own lines, which do not resemble those of Beethoven.
'In this work,' says Hanslick (Neue Freie Presse), 'Brahms' close affinity with Beethoven must become clear to every musician who has not already perceived it. The new symphony displays an energy of will, a logic of musical thought, a greatness of structural power and a mastery of technique such as are possessed by no other living composer. It would be a sorry mistake to attempt to criticize a work so serious and difficult of comprehension immediately after hearing it for the first time. Various listeners may have found the music more or less clear, more or less sympathetic; the one thing that we may speak of as a simple fact, accepted alike by friend and foe, is that no composer has yet approached so nearly to the great works of Beethoven as Brahms in the finale of the C minor Symphony.'
'... Brahms was an important personality, one to be treated most seriously before he wrote the symphony,' we read in theWiener Zeitung; 'to our thinking his position remains just as it was. The strong moral earnestness, the depth and purity of his conception of the world and of life, and the intellectuality, which have always obtained for the esteem of the noble-minded and withheld from him the favour of the masses, are to be found again in this work. None the less, however, are the shadows there which but too easily accompany such lights; the want of inspiriting fancy, the absence of sensuous charm, and a sullen asceticism almost amounting to insipidity. His musical language has lost nothing of its mysterious reticence, of its close conciseness, of the elevation that on the whole distinguishes it, nor has it gained in facility, clearness, or comprehensibility.... So there is nothing that can be admired without reserve, until with sure step, with strong, proud gait that reminds one of the majesty of Beethoven, the finale strides out. After a bar or two of deeply sorrowful complaint, it braces itself to a turbulent pizzicato of the strings, as a man who would get rid of pain by nerving himself to action.... With the entry of the chorale, the hearer experiences a sensation ofbrightness as at the rising of the sun after a night of sorrow. The last mists disappear as before the breaking light, and the movement closes in strong, healthy gladness.... Here the arts of music and poetry mingle indissolubly, and the musical, cannot be separated from the poetic, impression. Here is a truly great artistic achievement, the value of which is but slightly prejudiced by the consideration that the "joy" theme has an unmistakable resemblance as of son to father to that of the "ninth" symphony. This movement is worthy of the man who composed the German Requiem.'
Dörffel, of theLeipziger Nachrichten, wrote:
'The interest of all present was centred on the new symphony, which, on the whole, justified the great expectations with which it had been awaited. Its effect on the audience was the most intense that has been produced by any new symphony within our remembrance. Schumann in his time did not attain such.... The composition is to be viewed and measured from the standpoint of Beethoven's ninth, and of Schumann's second, symphony. The aim of the three works is the same. To reach it, Brahms, well-equipped and daring spirit as he is, goes his own way. He is great in attack as his two predecessors, and has the same wide vision over the domain of spiritual-human existence.... As regards uninterrupted energy of creative power, we would give the palm to the first movement. The second, with its fervour and longing, accords with it. To the third we should gladly have listened longer. It supplied a counterpoise of sentiment to what had gone before which had not been maintained long enough when the movement closed. Of the finale we would almost venture to surmise that it gave the composer the most trouble. Here he relinquishes his independence, and flies to Beethoven in order to get new force for his climax. We do not regard the resort to Beethoven as accidental, but believe the composer to have been well aware of it. He came, however, to one over whom he could not prevail.
'A long pause followed the symphony; one, however, that was not long enough in some measure to quiet the exaltation of mind produced by the work. The songs and variations which followed, and which we should have welcomed at another time, were almost tiresome to us. Let the symphony be repeated soon, and, if possible, without other music.'[52]
Louis Ehlert says of the symphony:
'Brahms has a wide-reaching and speculative brain, and is a mixture of the musician of the good old times who heard many voices sounding together within him, whose very cradle cover was embroidered with a contrapuntal pentagram, and of the man of the present day with his variously cultured intellect.... What distinguishes his music from that of all his contemporaries is the mysterious apparition within it of another world—its gentle, pathetic tapping at the heart.
'The first movement of the symphony is, perhaps, the most artistically important of the work.... An inexorable causality proceeds from bar to bar, stayed by no illusion, and softened only by the distant light of a few solitary stars. In the introduction and finale the enigmatical sphinx seems to call to us, "That which ascends from me, mounting upwards to battle and to life, sinks back again within me. Of all life I, the eternal riddle, am the beginning and the end."'
It will be evident from what has been said that whatever the impression to be derived from familiar acquaintance with the symphony, immediate enthusiasm could hardly have been anticipated from any large general public—least of all by Brahms himself; but the presence at most of these first performances of devotees specially qualified for apprehending something of the significance of the work generally secured for it more than a meresuccès d'estime. The listeners of Munich were the least appreciative. Those of Carlsruhe, Mannheim and Breslau were friendly. At Vienna certain favoured friends were privileged to listen to a private performance of the symphony by Brahms and Ignaz Brüll, in the composer's arrangement as a pianoforte duet, at the pianoforte house of his friend Herr Hoffabrikant Friedrich Ehrbar, and went to the concert, therefore, with minds partially prepared for what they were to hear. At Leipzig a note of enthusiasm was perceptible at the crowded public rehearsal which preceded the Gewandhaus concert, owing partly to the fact that Brahms' Leipzig adherents had been strongly reinforced by the advent of friends from outside, some of whom added warmth and prestige to the occasion by their mere presence. The feeling for our master's artwhich, as we have seen, had been slowly growing amongst a number of Leipzig residents who belonged to no musical 'set,' will have been expressed with added zest and enjoyment when it was found that Frau Schumann and Joachim and Stockhausen had come to hear the symphony, whilst to the support of the von Herzogenbergs, von Holsteins, Theodor Kirchner, and other resident or lately resident friends, was added that of the Grimms from Münster, Dr. Hermann Deiters from Bonn, Professor and Frau Engelmann from Utrecht, Simrock from Berlin, and many other distinguished guests. Enthusiasm is contagious, and already at the rehearsal a success was ensured for the work, though perhaps it was not very warmly helped by the official patrons of the Gewandhaus.
'A regular Brahms party meeting had been organized,' says Bernsdorf in theSignale, now as ever inveterate in his own party bias, in which a fairly strong contingent from outside was associated with the resident admirers and champions of the composer. It is therefore a matter of course that the consumption of enthusiasm was enormous, and that the success of the symphony was one exceptional in the annals of the Gewandhaus.'
A large party of friends assembled at supper at the Hôtel Hauffe after the concert. Brahms' health was proposed in genial fashion by Stockhausen. 'Hab' ich tausendmal geschworen,'[53]he suddenly sang out, starting to his feet and raising his glass. Needless to say that the toast, which was the more effective from the sense of victory filling the minds of those who had assisted at the evening's triumph, was honoured with the utmost enthusiasm.
The performance of the symphony by the Cambridge University Musical Society was given under special circumstances. Early in the year the university offered the master an honorary degree, acceptance of which would have involved him in a visit to England, since, by one of the university statutes, its degrees may not be conferredin absentia. Brahms was not asked to write a new work for the occasion, a request he would properly have resented, but was merely invited to visit Cambridge for the purpose of receiving the degree, and was so far gratified by the compliment as to hesitate about his answer. Perhaps his mere reluctance to decline the invitation in spite of his dread of English customs and his ignorance of the language, may be accepted as stronger testimony of appreciation than might have been implied in the effusive acceptance of many another man. It may be doubted whether he would in any case have prevailed upon himself to undertake the journey; an indiscreet advertisement, however, inserted inThe Timesby the Crystal Palace directors, who had heard a rumour of his possible visit, that if he should come he would be asked to conduct one of their Saturday concerts, immediately decided him to decline the University's proffered honour. He acknowledged the invitation by entrusting the MS. score and parts of the symphony to the care of Joachim, who was about starting on his yearly visit to England, for performance at Cambridge.
The programme of March 8 was as follows:
The Symphony and the Elegiac Overture, the latter composed by Joachim in acknowledgment of the honorary degree offered him by the University and conferred in the afternoon of March 8, were given under his direction; the remainder of the programme was under that of the society's conductor, C. Villiers Stanford.