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Updated: June 10, 2025
The keener the ear the more precise and definite is this understanding of the voice. Season after season, as the music-lover continues to attend concerts, operas, and recitals, his feeling for the voice becomes gradually more keen and discerning. Further, empirical knowledge of the voice can be acquired in no other way than by actual experience in listening to voices.
And with this general but separated and uncertain movement a vague thought, an unformulated question, passed into the mind of the Music-Lover. How would the leader reassemble the parts of his instrument in a few seconds, and make them one again, and resume his control over it? How would he make the pipes and strings and tubes and drums answer to his touch, though he laid no hand upon them?
W. Ashton Ellis has given many years of a valuable life to translating them into something which is not English and not German. For the ordinary music-lover I believe the above summary will be sufficient to enable him to understand Wagner's aims at this period, and we shall presently see how far he was able to attain them, and to what extent they refused to be, and could not be, attained.
The total harvest, however, of acquaintances I made in London was not particularly profitable. I took pleasure in the society of Mr. Ellerton, a dignified, agreeable man, the brother-in-law of Lord Brougham a poet, a music-lover, and, alas! a composer.
She can sing for me by the hour and I'll sit there by the hour and listen to her, and forget that there ever was such a person in the whole world as the late Vogner! That's the kind of a music-lover I am, and I suspect, if the truth were known, there are a whole lot more just like me.
Unconsciously the tone he adopted had been forced upon him by the bearing of his companions, above all by their accent, that of cultivated folk. Who and what were they? The musician no longer smiled. "You are a music-lover, monsieur?" he asked in a marked French patois. "I love music, and I am extremely engaged by your remarkable combination of instruments," answered Ferval.
"I do not sing," she replied, coldly, "I have no voice." "Then play for me. I have been for eight weeks on the desert and I am famishing for music." "Are you a musician?" asked Mrs. Lambert. "Oh no, only a music-lover." "My daughter is passionately fond of the piano," the mother explained, "and her teachers advised her to go on and make a specialty of it.
Come, stand at my right hand. My jewels that I seek are not dead, but alive. But the stone which led you here look! has it a flaw?" He stooped and lifted the jewel. The light of his face fell upon it. And in the blue depths of the sapphire the man saw a star. The Music-Lover had come to his favourite seat.
And through all the movement of the Allegro con brio, with its momentous struggle between Fate and the Human Soul, the orchestra answered to the leader's will as if it were a single instrument upon which he played. And so, for a time, it seemed to the Music-Lover as he looked down upon it from his lofty place.
Here the inner voice which had been running along through the Scherzo and the Trio and the Recapitulation, died away quietly with the pianissimo passage in which the double-basses and the drum carry one through the very heart of mystery; and the Music-Lover found himself intensely waiting for the great Finale. The Music-Lover drew a long breath. He sat motionless in his seat.
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