continuation of the idea enunciated; and only after a third repetition with modifications is it allowed to proceed to a conclusion. It has thus become too far developed to allow of a repetition of the whole theme; it starts again in C minor, is further developed by harmonic inflections; and after a short by-play on a tributary, it is again taken up and leads on to the second theme; we have thus a complete organic development of the first motif. The second theme is then of course carried out, and finally we have the broadly designed motif which brings the part to a conclusion in a gradually increasing crescendo for all the parts; the whole movement thus gains considerably in dimensions.

The motif of the first movement of the E flat major quintet (614 K.)—[See Page Image]

is precisely rendered. But it is the germ whence the whole movement is to spring; all beyond itself is suggested by this motif, and is important only in relation thereto. The unfettered cheerfulness which runs through the whole of the movement is expressed in these few bars, given by the violas like a call to the merry chase. The opening of the C major quintet prepares us in an equally decided manner for what is to follow. The decision and thoughtfulness which form the ground-tone of the whole movement, in spite of its lively agitation, are calmly and clearly expressed in the first few bars.

The G minor quintet begins very differently, with a complete melody of eight bars, repeated in a different key. Few MOZART'S G MINOR QUINTET. instrumental compositions express a mood of passionate excitement with such energy as this G minor quintet. We feel our pity stirred in the first movement by a pain which moans, sighs, weeps; is conscious in its ravings only of itself, refuses to take note of anything but itself, and finds its only consolation in unreasoning outbreaks of emotion, until it ends exhausted by the struggle. But the struggle begins anew in the minuet, and now there is mingled with it a feeling of defiant resentment, showing that there is some healthy force still remaining; in the second part a memory of happy times involuntarily breaks in, but is overcome by the present pain; then the trio bursts forth irresistibly, as if by a higher power, proclaiming the blessed certainty that happiness is still to be attained. One of those apparently obvious touches, requiring nevertheless the piercing glance of true genius, occurs when, after closing the minuet in the most sorrowful minor accents—[See Page Image]

Mozart introduces the trio with the same inflection in the major—

and proceeds to carry it out in such a manner that only a whispered longing may be detected underlying the gently dying sounds of peace. This turn of expression decides the further course of the development. The next movement, "Adagio ma non troppo, con sordini," gives us an insight into a mind deeply wounded, tormented with self-questionings; earnest reflection, doubt, resolve, outbreaks of smothered pain alternate with each other, until a yearning MOZART'S INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC. cry for comfort arises, tempered by the confident hope of an answer to its appeal; and so the movement ends in the calm of a joyful peace instead of, as the first, in the silence of exhaustion. The conquered pain breaks out again in the introduction to the last movement, but its sting is broken—it dies away to make room for another feeling. The new émotion is not merely resignation, but joy—the passionate consciousness of bliss, just as inspired, just as restlessly excited as the previous pain. But the exultant dithyramb has not the same engrossing interest for the hearers; man is readier to sympathise with the sorrows of others than with their joys, although he would rather bear his sorrow alone than his joy. This complete change of mood may well excite a suspicion of fickleness, but it is not the less true that the anguish of the first movement, and the exultation of the last, belong to one and the same nature, and are rendered with absolute truth of artistic expression.

We turn involuntarily from the artist to the man after such a psychological revelation as this, and find traces of Mozart's nature unmistakably impressed on his work. But we may seek in vain for any suggestion of the work in his actual daily life. At the time when he wrote this quintet his circumstances were favourable, he had only lately returned from Prague covered with honour and substantial rewards, and he was enjoying an intercourse with the Jacquin family which must have been altogether pleasurable to him. It is true that he lost his father soon after (May 26), but a recollection of the letter which he addressed to him with the possibility of his death in view (Vol. II., p. 323), Mozart being at the time engaged on the C major quintet, will prevent our imagining that the mood of the G minor quintet was clouded by the thought of his father's approaching decease. The springs of artistic production flow too deep to be awakened by any of the accidents of life. The artist, indeed, can only give what is in him and what he, has himself experienced; but Goethe's saying holds good of the musician as well as of the poet or painter; he reveals nothing that he has not felt, but nothing as he felt it.

The main characteristics of the other quintets are calmer MOZART'S QUINTETS. and more cheerful, but they are not altogether wanting in energetic expression of passion. The sharper characterisation made necessary by the division of the music among a greater number of instruments was only possible by means of the agitation and restless movement of the parts, even when the tone of the whole was quiet and contained. We find therefore various sharp or even harsh details giving zest to the whole—such, for instance, as the use of the minor ninth and the comparatively frequent successions of ninths in a circle of fifths; and the quintets have apparently been a mine of wealth to later composers, who have made exaggerated use of these dangerous stimulants. Greater freedom of motion stands in close connection with the better defined characterisation of the quintets. Polyphony is their vital element; the forms of counterpoint became more appropriate as the number of parts increased. The finales to the Quintets in D and E flat Major (573, 614, K.) showed that Mozart was able to make use of the very strictest forms upon occasion. Both movements begin in innocent light-heartedness, but severe musical combinations are developed out of the airy play of fancy; ideas which have only been, as it were, suggested are taken up and worked out, severe forms alternate with laxer ones—one leads to the other naturally and fluently, and sometimes they are both made use of at the same time. The disposition of the parts is free, without any preconceived or definitive form, and its many delicate details of taste and originality give an individual charm to each separate part. The homophonie style of composition is not altogether disregarded for the polyphonic, but it is never made the determining element. Even a melody such as the second subject of the first movement of the G minor quintet, complete in itself as any melody can be, is made use of as a motif for polyphonic development. The freest and most elastic treatment of form is that of the last movements. The other movements are fully developed, and sometimes carried out at great length, but the main features are always distinct and well preserved; the outline of the finales is less firm, and capable of a lighter and more varied treatment.

MOZART'S INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC.

Another branch of concerted music high in favour in Mozart's day was the so-called "Harmoniemusik," written exclusively for wind