[38] For a full discussion of these “periods,” see Lenz’s “_Beethoven et ses trois styles_.” [39] The foregoing quotations from Grove are to be found in his “Beethoven and His Nine Symphonies.” [40] E. g. Second Symphony: Larghetto: passage immediately preceding the Restatement section. [41] E. g. Second Symphony: Larghetto: passage at the end of the second subject. A motif of four sixteenth-notes in 3/8 measure. [42] E. g. Second Symphony: Finale: passage of half-notes in coda augmented later to whole notes. [43] Compare what is said on page 207, of the harmonic device used by Haydn to introduce the last entrance of the theme in the Finale of his Fifth Salomon Symphony. CHAPTER VIII BEETHOVEN (CONTINUED) CHAPTER VIII BEETHOVEN (CONTINUED) History and analytic thought alike reveal the fact that the highest pinnacles of art can be scaled only at those happy moments when favoring conditions of two distinct kinds happen to coincide. The artist who is to attain supreme greatness must in the first place have at his command a type of artistic technique that has already been developed to the verge of maturity, but that still awaits its complete efflorescence. As Sir Hubert Parry well says: “Inspiration without methods and means at its disposal will no more enable a man to write a symphony than to build a ship or a cathedral.” These means must be already highly developed, yet not to the point of exhaustion. If the technique is primitive, no ardor of artistic enthusiasm can reach through it a full utterance; if all its potencies have been actualized, no inspiration can reanimate it. In the second place, the artist so happy as to inherit a technique ripe but not over-ripe, must also, if he is to attain supreme greatness, be in unison with the thought and feeling of his age, echo from the common mind of his fellows a deep, broad, and universal eloquence, as though all mankind spoke through him as mouthpiece. He must live in the midst of some great general awakening of the human spirit, to which he lends voice. Merely personal art can be interesting, graceful, charming, moving, noble, but it cannot have the profundity, the breadth, the elevation, which we recognize in the highest art, such as Greek sculpture, Elizabethan drama, or the symphonic music we are now studying. “A great man,” says Emerson, “finds himself in the river of the thoughts and events, forced onward by the ideas and necessities of his contemporaries. He stands where all the eyes of men look one way, and their hands all point in the direction in which he should go. Every master has found his materials collected, and his power lay in his sympathy with his people and in his love of the materials he wrought in. Men, nations, poets, artisans, women, all have worked for him, and he enters into their labors.”[44]