The Tell-Tale Heart - The Pioneer, January 1843 — reading text

Mr. Keiser, gracefully accompa- of the intensest spiritual existences who ever nied by our old friend, Mr. Webb. ‘The modest took the form of flesh and blood amongst us, manner, and straight-forward, conscientious are all in it, to deepen and enrich the colors of delivery of those two earnest and artist-like the gorgeous scenery, and swell the current of men, were music to the eye as well as ear, after the jubilee. Ie rejoices with all the strength so much virtuoso flash and flourish as we of his heroism, and all the tenderness of his have had. Here were men playing to bring prayer. It is one of his earlier works, written out the sense of the composition before them, before he was thirty. And, though it is hazard- and not to exhibit themselves. ‘Iwo overtures, ous at al] times to attempt to interpret music, the same both evenings, formed the substance (which seems to be the intimate language of of the first part of the concert. One was the another element, of whuse experiences all words, overture to ‘** Die Felsenmiihle,’’ by Reissiger, and thoughts, and scenes and things intelligible an overture in the truest sense of the word, — are only types and shadows,) we cannot help thoroughly dramatic, while the music abounds feeling, while we hear it, as if this symiphony in beautiful and original movements. ‘The were the effort of a soul, all full of genius, and other, rapturously encored both times, was the overwhelmed with the glories which erowd delicious overture to ‘* Zanetta,’’ by Auber, round it, so that it almost sinks under the weight which could not fail to effect diversion in the of too much jjoy, to give expression to its sense most thought-haunted mind, and ‘* pluck from of the depth and the richness of life, to proclaim the memory the most rooted sorrow.’’ It was the thrilling communion which it feels with all not deep; but we never heard anything more heaven and earth and boundless realms invisi- exquisite in its way. Full of the most airy, ble. <A quick electric spark seems to have shot dainty, strange, yet simple melodies, which through all things, and the oneness of the worlds chase each other like the dimpled sun-flecks on within and without to have flashed upon him, the water — leaving one no time to get weary, exalting man to Deity, at the very moment that and mocking every eflort to think; tickling he sinks in utter weakness. ‘This exalting con- our very soul to laughter, and calling round us sciousness ofgenius, its profound admiring sense all the gayest and most bright-colored scenes of of life, is perhaps known to few ; and by nothing life, the Hesperides-gardens of the fancy, with short of heroism can the poor feeble will of roses and humming-birds, and sparkling jets man bear fitting testimony to it, and give it ut- d’eaux, and forms most volatile flitting in the terance ere it effervesce. What shall I say, moonlight, weaving fairy dances, and enacting what shall I do, while the full roaring tide up- curious histories. It is music to make one lifts me, before it turns and ebbs away and leaves smile in his sleep. Now it is a stealing in of me sick and spent on the low muddy bed of faint warbling melodies of flutes and clarinets, common-place? is ever the stern question put waking up by the way and toying with their to genius. ‘To the poet or the artist, these un- neighbors, the bassoons and oboes; and now prepared-for jubilees of the mind, these sudden an impassioned burst of fullest tenderness, fol- accesses of too much bliss, these periodical lowed by mysterious stillness, woke again ere rises of the under currents of life, bring on a long by those strange warblings ; and now the conflict with the weaker individual will within melting, luscious harp-tones of the dance; him as intense as do the fearful outward obsta- and now a perfect foaming up of the very wine cles in life, or the clouds of doubt and sin with- and essence of the violins; and now mellow in us. A necessity seems laid upon him to horn passages, whose notes bring marvellous, utter, with weak individual speech, what is startling reminiscences of what certainly never universal, unutterable, divine. Hence a jubilee had historical being in us, like the Platonic symphony from Beethoven shall, like all his ideas. ‘The composer must have overheard music, tell as much of earnest and gigantic some fairy orgies. It isas if you lay with eyes struggle, as of light and joy. t= half open in the middle of midsummer’s night, To come at once, then, tothe music. It is when by the light of the moon steal in little in the key of D major, the most splendid and elfin shapes, who straightway form themselves triumphant key, which has been so much dedi- in some moon-spot on your floor, and are soon cated to martial strains. ‘lhe principal theme in the full tide of all their quaintest revelries of the allegro, the fierce unbridled joy impulse, for your diversion. Could not the Academy does not get out immediately ; but is preceded give us, some time, Mendelsohn’s overture to the by a marvellously grand and crowded passage ‘* Midsummer Night’s Dream,’’ that we may in the 3-4 edagio movement, in which all the know how far music has carried it in this vein ? countless streams of life seem to be rolling in The second symphony has in it more of joy their waves together, and all the solemn clouds and triumph than we have been wont to expect to be moving in above, their edges silvered by from Beethoven, whose every utterance was the light of every star, while thunders roll and either deepest yearning, or heaven-storming lightnings fly from one to the other (so I would energy. et it is none the less characteristic. interpret those swift violin flights from massive  : 28 THE PIONEER. epeeeeiicaeene ae chord to chord, — one chord, as it were lighten- all its hidden bliss. Three or four, at least, ing into another,) and all the elements, and all new subjects enter in the course of the move- the life and beauty and majesty of nature are ment, all of exquisite beauty, like the blending gathered into the intensity of the moment. One of the winds and starlight with our serenest, by one, in solemn chord-processions, had each richest thoughts. Some of the modulations by mysterious and august presence kept arriving; which new subjects are ushered in, or old ones and a simultaneous shout, a rush of many voices in new keys, are solemn and imposing, as the (transition to the key of B flat) had announced shiftings of the clouds around the setting sun. the splendid circle full, before the rushing, The deepest tenderness and seriousness reigns heaving, hither and thither swaying, tumultuous throughout; and faith was never blessed with movement began, which soon settles down, how- fuller, purer utterance. ever, and all the vast array of conscious life, Can music laugh and jest? Is there wit and met face to face, is still with mutual expectation. humor, or aught answering to them in its mys- The principalities and powers of all the solar tic sphere? At least, let none, unless the worlds sit still and solemn round, as if upon the choicest, most refined, and most imaginative, eve to celebrate glories which the tongue of man provoke to mirth a mind composed to such would be palsied in pronouncing. A short con- serene, sweet musings by the Larghetto. Yet sultation in an under tone is heard between the the wild Scherzo must, by the compensating violins and violoncellos (the melody in hurried power of nature, have its place. And here it triplets ;) they seem to come to an understand- is indeed Scherzissimo! It seems as if the ing; rich, hope-inspiring chords, crowned by motliest, queerest group of bachanalians were the light-trilling flute, like the sunbeam of ex- assembled, all beside themselves with gladness, pression lighting up a countenance about to and disputatious with excess of joy. Every speak, announce that the word is soon to go instrument must have its say in turn, and all so forth ; and with an impetuous bound leaps from rapidly, they mingle and chime in in spite of the goal the impatient thema, (allegro con brio,) themselves, and are whirled away in one hurri- like live lightning: joy is no longer clogged cane of concord. Or does it seem rather as if ig- by its own fulness; it scours the illimitable nes fatui were dancing and blazing through the plains with resistless speed, scarce remembering air in all directions, now diverging, now rushing to pause and whisper the burthen of its mission, together into one great splendor, and showing the short glad counter-theme, or second subject through what oddest freaks of diversity the (in A) to here and there a listener by the deep unity can maintain its law. And then, in way. Howitis carried through, what separate the same breath, the rustic trio, of oboes and thoughts the successive phrases of the move- bassoons (in B flat) ;— what! Pan himself and ment might