how to speak his thought clearly, forcibly, with elegance, often with brilliant wit, but also with unfailing graciousness, even when finding fault. His literary impulse led him to an easy amplitude of style, often full of apt discussion or illustration, yet nothing is said that is not worth saying. Though he abounds in quotable apothegms, there is none of the journalist's eagerness to seem clever. The thrill of imaginative ideality is seldom absent, and many pages are made charming by the play of quiet humor.
In his earlier works the extravagant dialect of Jean Paul and his
school is much in evidence, but this gradually disappears. For several
years (from about 1833) he often used the device of introducing imaginary
personages, giving voice to varying views. Some of these, like
'Florestan,' 'Eusebius' and 'Meister Raro,' refer to aspects of himself—the
first standing for his impulsive and fanciful eagerness, the second for
his quieter and more contemplative thoughtfulness, and the third for his
cool judgment as between opposing impulses. A variety of other names
refer to various friends, especially to his colleagues in the Zeitschrift
enterprise and to Clara Wieck. Many of these fictitious names were
freely used with his shorter piano-works as well as in his literary writings.
Prominent among the composers to whom he gives careful attention were the following:—Bach, Beethoven, Schubert, Weber, Field, Berlioz, Mendelssohn, Chopin, Liszt, Wagner, Henselt, Heller, Franz, Bennett, Gade, Clara Wieck, and (in 1853) Brahms. When one considers how rich the period was in the outpouring of musical inspiration, it is easy to see what a magnificent field it offered for a truly great critic.
But Schumann's influence extended beyond what is often considered
to be the domain of criticism. He recognized the value
of genuine music-history and perceived its large structural outlines.
Although not himself a historian by formal publication,
he was thoroughly historical in habit of thought. He had a
fine sense of the large movements of musical art, and of the
relation of composers and styles to them. He had the scholar's
desire for accuracy and willingness to spend time in research.
He did valuable service in bringing to light forgotten works of
Schubert, and he set a pattern in the important task of purifying
scores from errors and glosses. He was also pedagogically
wise, and his many aphorisms about the spirit, methods
and objects of music-study have permanent validity and cogency.
Hence it is safe to call him the first shining example
of truly modern musical scholarship, one whose influence has
been enduring and altogether beneficial.
