This is, indeed, the fault of all German culture,
and the weakness of all German genius. A great artist should have
the sensibility and expressive genius of Schumann, the calm grandeur of Lee,
and the human breadth of Shakespeare, all in one.
Now in this particular, of being open, unprejudiced, and unenvious,
Schumann soars far above his brother Germans; he valiantly defended
our dear Chopin, and other young musicians who were struggling to make head
against the abominable pettiness of German prejudice. But, withal,
I cannot find that his life was great, as a whole; I cannot see him
caring for his land, for the poor, for religion, for humanity;
he was always a restless soul; and the ceaseless wear of incompleteness
finally killed, as a maniac, him whom a broader Love might have kept alive
as a glorious artist to this day.
The truth is, the world does not require enough at the hands of genius.
Under the special plea of greater sensibilities, and of consequent
greater temptations, it excuses its gifted ones, and even sometimes makes
"a law of their weakness". But this is wrong: the sensibility of genius
is just as much greater to high emotions as to low ones;
and whilst it subjects to stronger temptations, it at the same time interposes
-- if it WILL -- stronger considerations for resistance.
These are scarcely fair things to be saying APROPOS of Robert Schumann;
for I do not think he was ever guilty of any excesses of genius --
as they are called: I only mean them to apply to the UNREST of his life.
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