not think much of each other; but latterly, in the
face of certain disturbances which seem to threaten
their nourishing business, they have united in mutual
admiration; so that in the South the Mendelssohnian
school, with all that pertains to it, is now lauded
and protected—whilst, in the North, the
prototype of South-German sterility is welcomed [Footnote:
Franz Lachner and his Orchestral Suites.] with sudden
and profound respect—an honour which Lindpaintner
of blessed memory [Footnote: Peter Josef von
Lindpainter, 1791-1856, Capellmeister at Stuttgart]
did not live to see. Thus to ensure their prosperity
the two species are shaking hands. Perhaps at
the outset such an alliance was rather repugnant to
those of the old native type; but they got over the
difficulty by the aid of that not particularly laudable
propensity of Germans: namely, a timid feeling
of jealousy which accompanies a sense of helplessness
(die mit der Unbeholfenheit verbundenc Scheelsucht).
This propensity spoilt the temper of one of the most
eminent German musicians of later times, [Footnote:
Robert Schumann.] led him to repudiate his true nature,
and to submit to the regulations of the elegant and
alien second species. The opposition of the more
subordinate musicians signifies nothing beyond this:
“we cannot advance, we do not want others to
advance, and we are annoyed to see them advance in
spite of us.” This is at least honest Philistinism;
dishonest only under provocation.
In the newly-formed camp, however, things arc not
so simple. Most complicated maxims have there
been evolved from the queer ramifications of personal,
social, and even national interests. Without
going into details, I will only touch one prominent
point, that here there is A good
deal to conceal, A good deal
to hide and suppress. The
members of the fraternity hardly think it desirable
to show that they are “musicians” at all;
and they have sufficient reason for this.
Our true German musician was originally a man difficult
to associate with. In days gone by the social
position of musicians in Germany, as in France and
England, was far from good. Princes, and aristocratical
society generally, hardly recognised the social status
of musicians (Italians alone excepted). Italians
were everywhere preferred to native Germans (witness
the treatment Mozart met with at the Imperial Court
at Vienna). Musicians remained peculiar half-wild,
half-childish beings, and were treated as such by
their employers. The education, even of the most
gifted, bore traces of the fact that they had not really
come under the influence of refined and intelligent
society— (think of Beethoven when he came
in contact with Goethe at Teplitz). It was taken
for granted that the mental organisation of professional
musicians was such as to render them insusceptible
to the influence of culture. When Marschner,