Read Ebook: Beethoven: A Memoir (2nd Ed.) by Graeme Elliott Hiller Ferdinand Contributor

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All sorts of ideas have been advanced in all ages of the world as to the mystery of time, and even its very existence has been called into question, as witness the following;

"But the present has no duration and is not time at all. It is but the plane which, without thickness, divides past and future. Time then is not made up of past, present and future, but of past and future only; and, as these do not exist, time itself cannot exist."

But the only question that concerns us here, in our search for eternal conditions, is as to the duration of time. As to this, we may again refer to the reasoning of Orson Pratt; and we have, also, an additional and final assurance from the Lord, when He says, in speaking to Abraham:

"If there be two spirits, and one shall be more intelligent than the other, yet these two spirits, notwithstanding one is more intelligent than the other, have no beginning; they existed before, they shall have no end, they shall exist after, for they are gnolaum, or eternal."

The inference is plain. If spirits always existed and always will exist, there never was a beginning and there never will be an end, of time.

AS TO MATTER.

Some writer has characterized the passage in Genesis, "God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light," as the perfection of beauty in expression; but we venture to place over against it another, this, however, directly from a Divine source through the Prophet Joseph Smith. What could be more succinct or beautiful or more richly laden with truth respecting conditions precedent than the words, "The elements are eternal?"

That expression is worth more to the scientist who will receive it, than all the fine-spun theories of so-called philosophy. An acceptance of this truth would put to rest no end of controversy. Since the earliest times investigators have believed in the transmutation of matter, that if they could only find the secret, they could, for instance, turn silver into gold; and, again, it has been the belief until recent years, that matter could be annihilated.

Now, however, the idea is accepted throughout the entire scientific world that no particle of matter can be destroyed. It may be changed from one form into another, as water is converted into steam, but the elements remain unchanged.

The transmutation theory, however, still haunts the human mind.

"The elements aers in those early days at Bonn did not work very deeply. His own father, indeed, was one of the Elector's vocalists, and sang both in church and on the stage. But he was a sorry fellow, who saw in his gifted son only a means of extricating himself from his gloomy pecuniary difficulties, and certainly not the man to inspire him for the wedding of Word to Tone--the noblest union ever contracted.

Even in the most magnificent of Beethoven's vocal works there exists a certain roughness; the words domineer over the melody, or the latter over the poem. That perfect union--that melting in one another of both factors--which is peculiar to Mozart and Handel is found only separately in him. Would a youth spent in the midst of a great song-world have led our master along other paths?

Truth was a fundamental part of Beethoven's character. What he sang came from his deepest soul. Never did he allow himself to make concessions either to the multitude and its frivolity, or to please the vanity of executants. The courage which is bound up with this resembles the modest bravery of the citizen, but it celebrates even fewer triumphs than the latter.

Beethoven was proud, not vain. He had the consciousness of his intellectual power--he rejoiced to see it recognised--but he despised the small change of every-day applause. Suspicious and hasty, he gave his friends occasion for many complaints, but nowhere do we find a trace of any pretension to hero-worship. He stood too high to feel himself honoured by such proceedings; but, at the same time, he had too much regard for the independent manliness of others to be pleased with a homage which clashed against that.

This wise economy does not forsake him either in the selection or the number of the organs which he employs. He avoids every superfluity, but the spirits of sound which he invokes must obey him. Nevertheless, not to slavish servitude does he reduce them; on the contrary, he raises them in their own estimation by that which he exacts from them. What might be urged against him, perhaps, is that he sometimes makes demands upon them to which they are not adequate, that his ideal conception goes beyond their power of execution.

He has spoken almost exclusively in the highest forms of instrumental music, and where, in one way or other, words are added to these, he has always been actuated by high motive. He sings of Love and Freedom with Goethe, of Joy with Schiller, of the heroism of Conjugal Love in "Fidelio;" in his solemn Mass he gives expression to all those feelings which force their way from man to his Maker.

Well, then! Germany has now shown what she can do in this way; she will bloom afresh, and follow out her high aims in every direction. The consideration which we could long since have claimed as a people, will then be freely accorded to the German state.

As a musician, I can wish for the nation nothing better than that it should resemble a Beethoven symphony,--full of poetry and power; indivisible, yet many-sided; rich in thought and symmetrical in form; exalted and mighty!

And for the Beethoven symphonies I could wish directors and executants like those of whom the world's history will speak when considering the nineteenth century. But History, if at all true to her task, must also preserve the name of the man who, nearly seventy years ago, created the Eroica,--an achievement in the intellectual life which may place itself boldly by the side of every battle which has left invigorating and formative traces on the destiny of mankind.

FERDINAND HILLER.

FOOTNOTES:

BEETHOVEN:

A Memoir.

INTRODUCTORY.

Origin of the family VAN BEETHOVEN--The Electorate of Cologne--Court of Clemens August the Magnificent--Ludwig van Beethoven the Elder--Johann van Beethoven--Bonn in 1770.

Towards the middle of the seventeenth century there lived in a Belgian village near Louvain a family of the name VAN BEETHOVEN. To their position in life we have no clue, unless it be that contained in the name itself , which after all only indicates that the occupation of some remote progenitor was akin to that of the "grand old gardener" from whom we all claim descent. The question, however, is immaterial.

A member of this family left his native place, and in the year 1650 settled in Antwerp, where he married, and became the founder of a race, one of whom was destined to render the hitherto obscure name immortal.

The grandson of this Beethoven had twelve children, the third of whom, Ludwig, followed the example of his great-grandsire, and quitted the paternal roof at an early age. It has been imagined that this step was the result of family disagreements; however that may be, it is certain that after the lapse of some years Ludwig was again in friendly correspondence with his relations.

He was but eighteen; tolerably well educated, however; a cultivated musician, and the possessor of a good voice. With these qualities he was pretty sure of making his way, and in the following year we hear of him at Bonn, the seat of government of the splendour-loving Clemens August, Elector of Cologne.

It has been thought that he received a special summons thither, but this is, to say the least, doubtful. It is more probable that the young man, with the love of change and the confidence in his own abilities natural to his age, was drawn to Bonn by the dazzling reports that were spread far and wide of the Maecenas then on the episcopal throne.

A few words may not be out of place here as to the nature of the independent Ecclesiastical States , which occupy so large a space in the history of Germany prior to the French Revolution; since the fact of the great master having been born in one of these communities had an influence on his career which would have been wanting had fate placed him in a state of more importance, politically speaking.

We in England are inclined to hold somewhat in contempt the petty German court--the "Pumpernickel" of Thackeray,--with its formality, its gossip, its countless rules of etiquette, and its aping the doings of its greater neighbours. And yet in this ridicule there is a touch of ingratitude, for how greatly are we indebted to these "Serene Transparencies," and their love of pomp and display! How many masterpieces of art owe to their fostering care their very existence! How many men eminent in science and literature have to thank them for that support and encouragement without which their works, if produced at all, must have fallen to the ground dead-born! People talk of the divine power, the inherent energy of genius, but what a loss is it for the world when that energy is consumed in the effort of keeping soul and body together! The divine power will and does manifest itself at length, but enfeebled and distorted by the struggle which might have been averted by a little timely aid.

These prince-bishops of Cologne generally belonged to some royal house, the office being in fact regarded as a convenient sinecure for younger sons. They were chosen by the Chapter, subject only to the approval of the Pope and the Emperor, as the supreme spiritual and temporal heads, the people themselves having no voice in the matter.

They ruled over a small territory of about thirty German miles in length, and in some places only two or three in breadth. Within this limited area there were several wealthy and flourishing towns; among which, strangely enough, that which gave its name to the diocese was not included, a feud of the thirteenth century between the reigning archbishop and the burghers of Cologne having resulted in the recognition of the latter as a free imperial city, and the removal of the court to Bonn, which continued to be the seat of government until the abolition of the Electorate in 1794.

Were it not that the loss of so wealthy a town as Cologne was of no small moment to the episcopal coffers, the change must have been agreeable rather than otherwise, for Bonn, even in those days, fairly bore the palm from Cologne as a place of residence. Here, then, for about five hundred years, the little state flourished, better perhaps than we, with our modern ideas as to the union of the temporal and spiritual power are willing to admit, and especially in the last fifty years of its existence, was this the case.

Debarred by the limited income at their disposal from taking any prominent part in political life, cut off from ordinary domestic ties and interests, the archbishops were driven to seek compensation for these deprivations in some favourite pursuit; and to their credit be it said, not the delights of the chase or the table alone engaged their attention. The old genius of appreciation of art transferred its presence from the Arno to the Rhine, and began to exert in the Electors of Cologne an influence of great importance in the aesthetic development of Germany.

The four last Electors especially distinguished themselves, and shed a lustre on their court, by the number of talented men they drew around them, and the liberal patronage they bestowed on music and the drama. Joseph Clemens, the first of these, was himself a composer, after the usual fashion of royal dilettanti, no doubt, but a keen discerner of talent in others.

His successor, Clemens August, had passed his youth in Rome, where, although modern taste was on the decline, the imperishable monuments of art by which he was surrounded seem to have breathed something of their own spirit into him. He did a great deal towards beautifying the town of Bonn; built, besides churches and cloisters, an immense palace, the present university, and greatly enlarged the villa of Poppelsdorf, now the Natural History Museum. His household was conducted on the most magnificent scale, grand f?tes were of common occurrence, and his court was thronged by celebrities of every rank.

Especially did the reputation of the court music stand high. The archbishop, like his predecessor, was a connoisseur, and selections from the operas of Handel and the cantatas of Sebastian Bach were performed at Bonn in a style worthy of the imperial court at Vienna.

It was to this brilliant little capital, then, that young Ludwig van Beethoven made his way in the year 1732, with a light heart and still lighter purse, and begged for an engagement as one of the court musicians, which distinction, after the customary year's probation, was formally granted him, with an annual stipend of four hundred guldens, at that time considered a very good income for so young a man.

Notwithstanding, he seems to have led a quiet, even-going life, able, unlike the most of his colleagues, to lay by a little sum of money, happy in the exercise of his art , respected and beloved by all.

Such was the grandfather of the great Beethoven. He died when the boy was but three years of age; nevertheless the old man in the scarlet robe usually worn at that time by elderly people, with his dark complexion and flashing eye, seems to have made no ordinary impression on Beethoven's childish mind. He always spoke with reverence of his grandfather, whom he doubtless regarded as the founder of the family, and the only relic that he cared to have when settled in Vienna was a portrait of the old man, which he begs his friend Wegeler in a letter to send him from Bonn.

We have hinted that Ludwig van Beethoven was not happy in his home. If every one is haunted by some skeleton, his was grim enough. Not many years after their marriage his wife Josepha had become addicted to drinking, and in fact her habits were such that it was found necessary to place her in the restraint of a convent at Cologne. Thayer attributes this failing to grief for the loss of her children, only one of whom lived to manhood; but this trait in her character was unfortunately reproduced in her son Johann.

At the age of twenty-seven, on an income not much larger than that just mentioned, Johann van Beethoven took unto himself a wife. The entry in the register of the parish of St. Remigius runs thus:--

"Copulavi-- "Nov. 12, 1767.

"JOHANNEM VAN BEETHOVEN, filium legitimum LUDOVICI VAN BEETHOVEN et MARIAE JOSEPHAE POLL,

MARIAM MAGDALENAM KEFERICH, viduam LEYM, ex Ehrenbreitstein, filiam HENRICI KEFERICH et ANNAE MARIAE WESTROFFS."

In general careless of his own reputation, he could not bear that the slightest breath of slander should touch his mother; and in a letter addressed to Wegeler begged him to "make known to the world the honour of his parents, particularly of his mother." Her memory was always regarded by him with the deepest tenderness, and he was wont to speak lovingly of the "great patience she had with his waywardness."

We cannot conclude this short sketch better than by presenting the reader with Thayer's picturesque description of Bonn, as it must have appeared in the eyes of the young Beethoven.

The old town itself wore an aspect very similar to that of the present day. There were the same churches and cloisters, the same quaint flying bridge, the same ruins of Drachenfels and Godesberg towering above the same orchard-embedded villages. The Seven Hills looked quietly down on the same classic Rhine, not as yet desecrated by puffing tourist-laden steamboat or shrieking locomotive.

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