Of the thirty-two, as will be seen from the above table, eight have no dedication.

In the year 1792 Beethoven left Bonn and went to Vienna. There he studied counterpoint under Haydn, yet the lessons proved unsatisfactory. But the fame and influence of the veteran master no doubt prompted the young artist to dedicate to him the three sonatas, Op. 2. The t.i.tle-page of the oldest Vienna edition runs thus:--

Trois Sonates pour le Clavecin Piano-forte composees et dediees A Mr. Joseph Haydn Docteur en musique par Louis van Beethoven.

There was perhaps more of sarcasm than respect in the "Docteur en musique"; Beethoven is related to have said that he had taken some lessons from Haydn, but had never learnt anything from him.

Nevertheless he paid heed to his teacher's music. There are in the sonatas one or two reminiscences of Haydn, which seem to us curious enough to merit quotation. One occurs in the sonata in C minor (Op.

10, No. 1). We give the pa.s.sage (transposed) from Haydn, and the one from Beethoven:--

[Music ill.u.s.tration: "Letter V," Pohl, No. 58.[97] HAYDN.]

[Music ill.u.s.tration: Op. 10, No. 1. BEETHOVEN.]

And another--

[Music ill.u.s.tration: "In Native Worth" (_Creation_). HAYDN.]

[Music ill.u.s.tration: Op. 31, No. 1. BEETHOVEN.]

While speaking of reminiscences, a curious one may be mentioned. The theme of the slow movement of Beethoven's sonata in A (Op. 2, No. 2) strongly resembles the theme of the slow movement of his own Trio in B flat (Op. 97):--

[Music ill.u.s.tration: Op. 2, No. 2.]

[Music ill.u.s.tration: Trio, Op. 97. _Andante._]

In Op. 111, again, the second subject of the Allegro recalls a phrase in the Presto of the Sonata in C sharp minor.

Haydn, as the most ill.u.s.trious composer of that day, stands first; but the next name worthy of mention is Count Waldstein, a young n.o.bleman who had been a guide, philosopher, and friend to Beethoven during the Bonn days. The well-known entry in the young musician's Alb.u.m just before his departure for Vienna shows in what high esteem he was held by Waldstein. Count Ferdinand Waldstein died in 1823.

Prince Charles Lichnowsky was one of the composer's earliest patrons after the latter had settled in Vienna. The Prince, descended from an old Polish family, was born in 1758, and, consequently, was, by twelve years, Beethoven's senior. He lived mostly in Vienna. In 1789 he invited Mozart to accompany him to Berlin; and the King's proposal to name the latter his capellmeister is supposed to have been suggested by the Prince. Lichnowsky was also a pupil of Mozart's. His wife, Princess of Thun, was famous for her beauty, her kindly disposition, and for her skill as a musician. Beethoven had not been twelve months in Vienna when he was offered rooms in the Prince's house. It was there that the pianoforte sonatas Op. 2 were first played by their author in presence of Haydn. Beethoven remained in this house until 1800. In 1799 the "Sonate Pathetique" was dedicated to the Prince, and in the following year the latter settled on him a yearly pension of 600 florins. In the year 1806 there was a rupture between the two friends. At the time of the battle of Jena, Beethoven was at the seat of Prince Lichnowsky at Troppau, in Silesia, where some French officers were quartered. The independent artist refused to play to them, and when the Prince pressed the request, Beethoven got angry, started the same evening for Vienna, and,--anger still burning in his breast,--on his arrival home, he shattered a bust of his patron. The composer's refusal to play to the French officers was grounded on his hatred to Napoleon, who had just won the battle of Jena. Beethoven, however, became reconciled with the Prince before the death of the latter in 1814. It should be mentioned that Beethoven's first published work, the three pianoforte Trios, was dedicated to Prince Lichnowsky.

The Archduke Rudolph (1788-1831) was one of the master's warmest friends, and one of his most devoted admirers. His uncle was Max Franz, Elector of Cologne, to whose chapel both Beethoven and his father had belonged. The Archduke was the son of Leopold of Tuscany and Maria Louisa of Spain; his aunt was Marie Antoinette, and his grandmother the famous Maria Theresa. He is supposed to have made the acquaintance of Beethoven during the winter of 1803-4, and then to have become his pupil. The pianoforte part of the Triple Concerto (Op.

58), commenced in 1804, and published in 1807, is said to have been written for him.

Concerning the Countess Giulietta Guicciardi, for whom Beethoven entertained a hopeless pa.s.sion, and the Countess Theresa of Brunswick, to whom he is said to have been secretly engaged for some years, there is no necessity to enter into detail. Everyone has probably heard of the famous love-letters, and of the discussion as to which of these two they were addressed. Maximiliane Brentano was a niece of the famous Bettine Brentano.

The Baroness Ertmann was an excellent performer on the pianoforte, and is said to have been unrivalled as an interpreter of Beethoven's music. Mendelssohn met her at Rome in 1831, and in a letter describes her playing of the C sharp minor and D minor Sonatas.

We must now turn to the sonatas, yet neither for the purpose of a.n.a.lysis nor of admiration. We shall briefly discuss how far Beethoven worked on the lines established by his predecessors, and how far he modified them. And, naturally, the question of music on a poetic basis will be touched upon.

The number of movements of which Beethoven's sonatas consist varies considerably: some have two, some three, others four. The three very early sonatas dedicated to Maximilian, Archbishop of Cologne, have only three movements (the second opens with a brief Larghetto, which, however, really forms part of the first movement). But the four Sonatas Op. 2 (Nos. 1, 2 and 3) and Op. 7 all have four movements--an Allegro, a slow movement, a Scherzo or Minuet and Trio, and a final Allegro or Rondo. There are examples in later sonatas of similar grouping; but it is an undeniable fact that in some of his greatest sonatas--Op. 31 (No. 2), Op. 27 (No. 2), Op. 53, Op. 57--he reverts to the three-movement sonata so faithfully adhered to by Emanuel Bach, Haydn, Mozart, and Clementi. And there is evidence that the omission of the Minuet or Scherzo in Op. 10 (Nos. 1 and 2), in Op. 13, and in others named above, was the result of reflection and not caprice.

Among sketches for the Sonatas, Op. 10, Beethoven writes: "Zu den neuen Sonaten ganz kurze Menuetten" (to the new sonatas quite short Minuets); and also, a little further on, "Die Menuetten zu den Sonaten ins kunftige nicht langer als von 16 bis 24 Takte" (in future the Minuets to the sonatas not to exceed from 16 to 24 bars). Then, again, there are two sketches for a movement of the Minuet or Scherzo kind, which were almost certainly intended for the Sonata No. 1 in C minor.

One of these was afterwards completed, and has been published in the Supplement to Breitkopf & Hartel's edition of Beethoven's works. Both these were finally rejected, yet Beethoven made still another attempt.

There is a sketch for an "Intermezzo zur Sonate aus C moll," and at the end of the music the composer writes: "durchaus so ohne Trio, nur ein Stuck" (exactly thus without Trio, only one piece). So the Minuets were to be short; then the limit of length is prescribed; and, lastly, an Intermezzo _without_ Trio is planned. The composer proposed, but his [Greek: daimon] disposed; the Sonata in C minor finally appeared in print with only an Adagio between the two quick movements.

Schindler, in reference to the proposal made by Hoffmeister to Beethoven to edit a new edition of his pianoforte works, tells us that had that project been carried out, the master, in order to get a nearer approach to unity, would have reduced some of his earlier sonatas from four movements to three. And he adds: "He would most certainly have cut out the Scherzo Allegro from the highly pathetic sonata for Pianoforte and Violin (Op. 30, No. 2; the first and third have only three movements), a movement in complete opposition to the character of the whole. He always objected to this movement, and, for the reason just a.s.signed, advised that it should be omitted. Had the scheme been carried out, a small number of Scherzos, Allegros and Menuets would have been 'dismissed.' In our circle, however, objections were raised against this proposal; for among these Scherzos, etc., each of us had his favourite, and did not like the idea of its being removed from the place which it had long occupied.

The master, however, pointed to the three-movement sonatas--Op. 10 in C minor, Op. 13, Op. 14, Op. 31 (Nos. 1 and 2), Op. 57, and others.

The last sonatas--Op. 106 and Op. 110--which contain more than three movements must be judged in quite a different manner" (_Life of Beethoven_, 3rd ed. vol. ii. pp. 215-16).

Schindler's statements have sometimes been called in question; the above, however, bears on it the stamp of truth.

But how came it to pa.s.s that Beethoven's first four sonatas--Op. 2 (Nos. 1, 2, and 3) and Op. 7--have four movements? That is a question easier to ask than to answer. Schindler's remark that he followed custom is difficult to understand. In our introductory chapter we spoke of twenty sonatas containing four movements written probably about the middle of the eighteenth century, also of one of Wagenseil's for clavier with violin accompaniment; yet among the known sonatas of that period, these form a minority. Woelfl's Sonata in B flat (Op. 15) has four movements: Allegro, Andante, Scherzo Allegro, and Finale (theme and variations), but that work appeared shortly after Beethoven's Op. 2.

Even Haydn, who is said to have introduced the Minuet into the Symphony, remained faithful to the three-movement form of sonata.

Beethoven, however, wrote six sonatas consisting of two movements.

This change in the direction of simplicity is striking, for in his quartets the composer became more and more complex. It seems as if he were merely intent on exhibiting strong contrast of mood: agitation and repose, or fierce pa.s.sion followed by heavenly calm; we are referring especially to the Sonata in E minor (Op. 90) and to the one in C minor (Op. 111). The two sonatas of Op. 49--really sonatinas written for educational purposes--may be dismissed; also Op. 54, in the composition of which the head rather than the heart of the master was engaged. Even Op. 78, in F sharp, in spite of the Countess of Brunswick, to whom it was dedicated, does not seem the outcome of strong emotion; and therefore we do not take it now into consideration. The two sonatas (Op. 90 and 111) mentioned above are strong tone-poems, and the master having apparently said all that he had to say, stopped. The story, already related, about having no time to complete Op. 111 must not be taken seriously. Nevertheless, we do not for one moment imagine that Beethoven was thus reducing the number of movements, in accordance with some preconceived scheme.

The D minor (Op. 31, No. 2) and the F minor (Op. 57) sonatas, not to speak of others, form the apotheosis of the sonata in three movements as established, though not invented, by Emanuel Bach. To say that Beethoven was the perfecter of the sonata is true, but it is scarcely the whole truth. The E minor appears a first great step in the process of dissolution; the C minor, a second. They were great steps, because they were those of a very great man. The experiments as to number of movements of which we spoke in our introductory chapter were interesting; and with regard to the number, and also the position of the Minuet before or after the slow movement, those experiments acquired additional interest, inasmuch as Beethoven seems for a time to have been affected by them. The two works named are, however, of the highest importance; in them, if we are not mistaken, are to be found the first signs of the disappearance, as it were, of the sonata of three movements, and, perhaps, of the sonata itself, into the "imperceptible." After Op. 90 Beethoven wrote sonatas in four movements, but that does not affect the argument, neither does the fact, that after Beethoven are to be found several remarkable sonatas with the same number. The process of evolution of the sonata was gradual; so also will be that of its dissolution. The t.i.tle of "sonata" given by Beethoven to his Op. 90 and Op. 111 does not affect the music one jot; under any other name it would sound as well. You might call the "Choral Symphony" a Divertimento, and the t.i.tle would be considered inappropriate; or a Polonaise, and the name would be scouted as ridiculous; but the music would still remain great and glorious. Yet taking into consideration the meaning of the term "sonata" as understood by Emanuel Bach, Haydn, and Beethoven himself, it can scarcely be the right one for these tone-poems in two sections.

The sonata-form of the first movement in each case may have suggested the t.i.tle. The two early sonatas Op. 27 (Nos. 1 and 2) are both styled sonata, but with the addition _quasi una fantasia_. And in neither case was the first movement in sonata-form; the one in E flat does not even contain such a movement. There are other signs of the process of disintegration in the later sonatas. Op. 109, in E, is peculiar as regards the form of the movements of which it is composed; and the fugues of Op. 101, 106, and 109--a return, by the way, to the past--show at least an unsettled state of mind. The sonata in A flat (Op. 110) was probably the germ whence sprang the sonata in B minor of Liszt--a work of which we shall soon have to speak.

Beethoven departed from the custom of his predecessors Haydn and Mozart, and the general practice of sonata-writers before him, in the matter of tonality. In a movement in sonata-form the rule was for the second subject to be in the dominant key in the exposition section, and in the tonic in the recapitulation section, if the key of the piece was major; but if minor, in the relative major or dominant minor in the exposition, and in the tonic major or minor in the recapitulation. Thus, if the key were C major, the second subject would be first in G major, afterwards in C major; if the key were C minor, first in E flat major, or G minor, afterwards in C minor or major. In a minor movement the second subject is found more often in the relative major than in the dominant minor. The first and third movements of Beethoven's Sonata in D minor (Op. 31, No. 2) ill.u.s.trate the latter; in each case the second subject is in A minor.

In major keys, besides that of the dominant, Beethoven chose the mediant (E) in his sonata in C (Op. 53); and in the recapitulation it occurs first in the sub-mediant (A), and only afterwards, in varied form, in the orthodox tonic. Then in the B flat sonata (Op. 106) the second subject occurs in the sub-mediant (G). In the last sonata in C minor, the second subject is neither in the relative major, nor in the dominant minor, but in the major key of the sub-mediant. Once again, in the sonata in D major (Op. 10, No. 3) a second theme is introduced in the key of the relative minor before the dominant section is reached. With regard, indeed, to the number of themes and order of keys, some other movements of the Beethoven sonatas show departures from the orthodox rules.

In the important matter of the repeat of the first section of a movement in sonata-form, we find the master, for the most part, adhering to the custom delivered unto him by his predecessors. And yet there were two strong reasons why he might have been tempted to depart from it. The repet.i.tion was a survival from the old dance movements in binary form. E. Bach, Haydn, and Mozart not only repeated, but introduced various kinds of ornaments, and even harmonic changes; and they expected performers to do the same. Beethoven, however, allowed no such licence--one, indeed, which in the hands of ordinary pianists would be calculated to spoil rather than to improve the music. Part, then, of the _raison d'etre_ of the repeat ceased to exist. But a still stronger temptation to suppress it must have been the _programme_ or _picture_ which Beethoven had in his mind when he composed. The repeat, now become almost an empty form, must have proved at times a fetter to his imagination. In many ways he was bold; but in this matter strangely conservative. It was only in the sonata in F minor, Op. 57, that he first ventured to omit the repeat. It is not to be found in the opening movements of Op. 90 or Op. 110, yet in his last sonata (Op. 111) the composer almost seems as if he wished to atone for his previous sins of omission. He had evidently not settled the question one way or the other; but the fact that in three of his most poetical works he departed from custom, deserves note. Before his time the repeat, like the laws of the Medes and Persians, seemed irrevocably fixed.

Beethoven added important introductions or codas, or even both, to some of the movements of his sonatas. Codas are to be found in the sonatas both of Haydn and Mozart, but not introductory movements; the idea of the latter, however, did not originate with Beethoven. The Grave which opens the "Pathetique" (Op. 13) does not merely throw the listener into the right mood for the Allegro, but the opening phrase--

[Music ill.u.s.tration]

is afterwards made use of in the development section--

[Music ill.u.s.tration]

and, later on, it occurs in double augmentation.

The _maestoso_ which ushers in the Allegro of the last sonata contains foreshadowings which are better felt than explained.

At times the codas of Haydn are interesting,--as, for example, the one at the end of the first movement of his "Genziger" Sonata in E flat,--yet they do not present the thematic material in any new or striking light. With Beethoven it is different. In the Sonata in E flat (Op. 7) not only is there contrapuntal working, but the princ.i.p.al theme, just at the close, is, as it were, rounded off, completed.

Similar treatment may be seen in the first movement of the Sonata in D (Op. 10, No. 3) (here the effect is intensified by contrary motion); also in the Allegro of Op. 13, and other sonatas; the opening movement of Op. 57 offers a striking ill.u.s.tration.

The coda to the first movement of the "Waldstein" Sonata (Op. 53) is on a most elaborate scale: it is almost as long as the development section. In the latter, only fragments of the princ.i.p.al theme had been worked, but in the coda it appears in complete form; fierce chords seem to r.e.t.a.r.d its progress, and a sinking, syncopated figure is opposed to it, counteracting its rising, expanding nature. But it works its way onward and upward, until, as if exhausted by the effort, two descending scales lead to a quiet delivery of the second theme, which had not been heard during the development section. Then princ.i.p.al theme is given for the last time; it has overcome all obstacles, and proclaims its victory in loud and powerful chords. The Presto which closes the "Appa.s.sionata" (Op. 57) is one of Beethoven's grandest codas, and all the more wonderful in that it follows a movement of intense storm and stress. It is a coda, not merely to the last movement, but to the whole work: it recalls the first, as well as the third movement. The coda of the first movement of the C minor Symphony displays similar intensity; there, however, we have an expression of strong will; here, one of savage despair. The coda of the first movement of the "Adieux" Sonata (Op. 81A) is another memorable ending. The farewell notes sound sad in the opening Adagio, while in the Allegro which follows they are again plaintive, or else agitated. But in the coda, though still sad, they express a certain tenderness, and the lingering of friends loth to part. Whatever the special meaning of the music, the point which we here wish to emphasise is, that the coda presents thematic material, already amply developed, in quite a new light.

In the matter of structure, Beethoven may be said, in the main, to have followed Haydn and Mozart, but the effect of his music is, nevertheless, very different. By overlapping of phrases; by very moderate use of full closes; by making pa.s.sages of transition thoroughly thematic; by affinity and yet strong contrast between his princ.i.p.al and second themes; by a more organic system of development; by these and other means Beethoven surpa.s.sed his predecessors in power of continuity, intensity, and unity. Then, again, his conception of tonality was broader, and his harmonies were more varied; the fuller, richer tone of the pianoforte of his day influenced the character of his melodies; while the consequent progress of technique, as exhibited in the works of some of his immediate predecessors and contemporaries, enabled him to present his thoughts with greater variety and more striking effect than was possible to either Haydn or Mozart.

Once more, Beethoven seemed to be elaborating some central thought; Haydn and Mozart (with few exceptions), to be deftly weaving together thoughts so as to obtain pleasing contrasts. In a similar manner, the first and last movements of a sonata with Beethoven are of kindred mood, though perhaps of different degree. Haydn and Mozart seem again to be aiming at contrast; after a dignified opening Allegro and a soft, graceful slow movement, they frequently wind up with a Finale of which the chief characteristics are humour, playfulness, and merriment, so that the listener may part company from them in a pleasant frame of mind.

We have been comparing the composer, and to his advantage, with Haydn and Mozart. But the latter, however, sometimes come within near reach of the former; and had the means at their disposal been similar, they might possibly have equalled him. And, on the other hand, Beethoven's inspiration was sometimes at a comparatively low ebb. Speaking generally, however, the comparison, we believe, stands good.

John Sebastian Bach devoted the greater part of his life to the art of developing themes. His skill was wonderful, and so, too,--considering the restrictions of the fugue-form,--was the imagination which he displayed. In Beethoven the old master seems to live again, only under new and more favourable conditions. Bach was brought up in the way of the fugue, Beethoven of the sonata; and, it may be added, from these, respectively, neither ever departed. From early youth onward, our composer was a deep student of Bach, and a.s.similated some of his predecessor's methods. One special feature of Beethoven's mode of development was to take a few notes, or sometimes merely a figure, from his theme, and to expand them into a phrase; as, for instance, in the opening movement of the sonata in C minor (Op. 10, No. 1), in which

[Music ill.u.s.tration]

forms the material for the closing phrase of the exposition section.

And the opening figure of the Finale of the same sonata is employed in a similar manner at the commencement of the second section of the movement. The Rondo of Op. 10, No. 3, furnishes good ill.u.s.trations.

Now let us turn to Bach. In the 13th Fugue of the "Well-tempered Clavier," the closing notes of the subject