In this magnificent symphony, the most picturesque of all, Beethoven
seemed to have taken a new lease of originality. It is specially
instructive and encouraging on that account; and, amongst other
evidences, makes us weigh, whether his "third manner" (whereof this
may be considered the noble isthmus that joins those continents), was
really progress or decay, or a dubious transition step to something
higher. However, the work is reckoned among those of his second
manner, and so is certainly a potent argument for those who, with
enlightened honesty (and not Philistine blindness), feel that
Beethoven's second style is, _par excellence_, Beethoven--whether
Wagner began or not where Beethoven left off. _Apropos_ of Wagner,
does not this "Poco Sostenuto" call to mind that Wizard of the South's
famous morçeaux in "Lohengrin," in the same key? Is not the
style--nay, the motiv--much the same?--
[Music]
There seems something of the same _mysticism_, though Beethoven is not
tainted with the morbidness one scents in Wagner; seems, as a whole,
broader, nobler, more _natural_, more truly deep; in a word, more
healthy, and therefore greater, notwithstanding Wagner's undoubted
genius, and still more stupendous energy for which we most envy him.
This opening theme has a powerful tranquility about it--like that,
say, of some Epaminondas; seems, as it were, an assurance and
announcement that Beneficence, at bottom and after all, is paramount
in this stupendous paradox and discrepancy called the universe;
notwithstanding, it seems to go on to say, the ground-bass of storm,
on and over which true heroism will ever ride (_re-entry of the theme
ff_); notwithstanding the painfulnesses, which are only subtler proofs
and manifestations of self-justified righteousness and power--most
sublime in its subtlest judgments--as the private life of every
self-strict person knows. Then, a new theme--fragment of the same
essential peace--enters; curiously (and beautifully) reminding us of
that early, early work of Beethoven's (Oh, Rhine-lad, written _how_
long ago!), the Sonata in C dedicated to Haydn--
[Music]
but gaining by being slow.
But "action, action, action," which these climbing basses--("And ever
climbing up the climbing wave"), "life is painfully real,"--seem to
say, soon break in again on this Elysian dream. It re-appears,
however, like a heavenly messenger, holding us spell-bound, in a
trance or veritable dream, whereof these two conflicting elements form
the chief apparitions; conflicting, yet viewed largely, harmonious,
like their counterparts in that oneness, Life,--whose painfulnesses
are as much a _necessary_ part of it, as discords are of entire music.