'Nachklänge aus Ossian' is a Runic Poem, worthy of recitation in the Walhalla. Its bold fierce Subject breathes the spirit of the Northern Myth so clearly, that we may safely accept it—in common with the lovely Melodies of 'Comala,' which form its natural complement—as an inspiration from the land of the Aurora borealis and the Midnight Sun. But, in the matter of outward form, he has thought it no treason to enter into an openly-confessed alliance with his German neighbours. Strikingly original in his system of Instrumentation, he has never suffered it to lead him into extravagance or confusion; nor has he ever used his glowing vein of Poetry as an excuse for negligent arrangement of his harmonic combinations, or for rudeness of design. In all that concerns the technique of his delightful productions, he has been loyal, from first to last, to the principles he adopted on his first entrance into the artistic world; and there is good hope that his work will outlive the caprice of fashion which has brought these principles, for the moment, into something very nearly allied to contempt.
It was of immense advantage to the cause of Art, that Mendelssohn's interpretation of its classical form and spirit should be perpetuated by men like Gade, and Hauptmann, and Hiller, and Sterndale Bennett; that his memory should be reverenced by Schumann, and the proselytes of a newer faith; and, that his works should be held, both in Germany and England, in higher reputation than those of any other writer of the age. But they were not destined to escape hostile criticism. Before the production of 'Elijah,' more than one promising young Composer had ventured to claim the right of thinking for himself. One of the most talented of these was Johannes Brahms; from whom great things were expected, even before his views were sufficiently matured to enable him to stand forth as the originator of a special line of thought. Though attached to the Conservative Party by many noble sympathies, his conceptions were too original, and his individuality too strong, to admit of his working on any other lines than those laid down by himself. It soon became evident that his affections were entirely with the Imaginative School; and his attachment to it has remained undiminished. Like all earnest sympathisers with its aim and spirit, he has used elasticity of Form freely; but always with a healthy recognition of the boundary line which distinguishes elasticity from distortion. His First Symphony, in C minor (op. 68)—a work produced after his genius had attained its full maturity—is a case in point. Departing, in no essential particular, from the accepted model, it presents so many traits of original thought, so many welcome novelties, both of idea and construction, that, while recognising it as a legitimate descendant of the Schools of Leipzig and Vienna, we cannot but feel that it leads us into regions hitherto unexplored. The fertility of invention which forms one of its most prominent characteristics could scarcely have failed to tempt a Composer of ordinary calibre into hopeless departure from a consistent line of argument; but it did not so tempt Brahms. With all its wealth of imagery, the work proclaims its raison d'être in the first seven bars of its introductory 'Un poco sostenuto'; and, from the thesis there proposed, it never diverges. The text is illustrated, at every turn, by some unexpected comment, often extremely beautiful, and always pertinent and welcome; but it works out its appointed meaning, without interruption, from beginning to end; and by no means in unorthodox fashion. The First Part of the Allegro is duly repeated; the customary return to the primary Subject is made in the accustomed manner; and the Movement fulfils all the needful conditions of Classical Form, while the Composer gives free scope to his Imagination, throughout. The 'Andante sostenuto,' in the unexpected Key of E Major, fulfils the same conditions to the letter. The 'Un poco Allegretto e grazioso,' in A♭, takes the place, and satisfactorily performs the office, of the Scherzo. And the work concludes with a noble Finale, in C major, which forms a fitting climax to the whole. But here, again, the author introduces an unexpected feature. The Finale is so constructed, that it would scarcely have made the logical sequence of the intended climax apparent, had it fallen into its place in the usual way. Therefore the Composer has prepared it by an introductory 'Adagio,' perhaps the most interesting member of the entire work. As the whole essence of the First Allegro was compressed into the opening bars of its Preface, so is the whole essence of the Finale compressed into this beautiful Adagio, which thus forms the support of the entire work, the clue to its consistent interpretation, and the most important link in the chain of continuity which binds its elements together so closely, that, to understand it at all, we must understand it as the natural development of a single thought. In the Second Symphony, in D (op. 73), we find the same regularity of design, the same fixity of purpose, the same exuberance of subsidiary ideas, and the same depth of Imagination. The same broad characteristics are exhibited, in a marked degree, in the 'Tragic Overture' (op. 81), in combination with a direct and irresistible appeal to feelings, which, though subjectively treated in the Score, may be very easily invested with an objective sense by the hearer, who has only to connect the Music with some deeply tragic history of his own invention, in order to transfer it from the Imaginative to the Romantic School—a curious illustration of the line which parts the School to which Brahms has attached himself from that adopted by some other German writers of whom we shall speak presently.
The beauty of all these Compositions is greatly enhanced by the character of their Instrumentation. A Score by Brahms presents, at the first glance, an appearance not unlike that of a Vocal Composition for several distinct Choirs. The masses of Stringed and Wind Instruments are so often treated antiphonally, that the contrasts presented by their differences of tone serve as a valuable means of imparting clearness to passages
