s affections to
Clara Schumann, and now just loves his art, and everybody.

* * * * *

Schumann's article, "New Paths," at once determined Brahms' career. He
must either live up to the mark that had been set for him--or else run
away.

I give below an extract from Robert's estimate of Brahms and his work:

Ten years have passed away, as many as I formerly devoted to the
publication of this paper--since I have allowed myself to commit my
opinions to this soil so rich in memories. Often in spite of an
overstrained productive activity, I have felt moved to do so; many
new and remarkable talents have made their appearance, and a fresh
musical power seemed about to reveal itself among the many aspiring
artists of the day, even if their compositions were only known to
the few.

I thought to follow with interest the pathways of these elect;
there would--there must--after such a promise, suddenly appear one
who should utter the highest ideal expression of the times, who
should claim the mastership by no gradual development, but burst
upon us fully equipped, as Minerva sprang from the brain of
Jupiter. And he has come, this chosen youth, over whose cradle the
Graces and Heroes seem to have kept watch.

His name is Johannes Brahms; he comes from Hamburg, where he has
been working in quiet obscurity, instructed by an excellent,
enthusiastic teacher in the most difficult principles of his art,
and lately introduced to me by an honored and well-known master.
His mere outward appearance assures us that he is one of the
elect.

Seated at the piano, he disclosed wondrous regions. We were drawn
into an enchanted circle. Then came a moment of inspiration which
transformed the piano into an orchestra of wailing and jubilant
voices. There were sonatas, or rather veiled symphonies, songs
whose poetry revealed itself without the aid of words, while
throughout them all ran a vein of deep song-melody, several pieces
of a half-demoniacal character, but of charming form; then sonatas
for piano and violin, string quartets, and each of these creations
so different from the last that they appeared to flow from so many
different sources. Then, like an impetuous torrent, he seemed to
unite these streams into a foaming waterfall; over the tossing
wav