The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1856-1888, 1870-12-10

Sekrets are kussid poor property emmy how ii
you circulate them yu lOze them, and if yu keep
them yu loze the interest on the investment.
Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.
1t happened at Bonn. One moonlight winters
evening L called upon Beethoven, for l wanted
him to take a walk and afterwards sup with me.
In passing through some dark, narrow street, he
paused suddenly.
"Hush !" he said, " what sound is that? Is
it from my symphony in F." he continued.
&C Hark how well it is played"
1t was a mean little dwelling, and we paused
outside and listened. The player went on and
in the midst of the finale there was a sudden break,
then the voice of sobbing. " cannot play any
more-it is so beautiful 1t is utterly beyond
my power to do it justice. Oh what would 1
not give to 60 to the concert at Cologne"
"Ah, my sister, said her companion, I" why
create regrets when there is no remedy? We can
scarcely pay our rent
you are right and yeti wish for once in my
life to hear some really good music. But it is of
no usc.'
Beethoven looked at me.
"Let us go in" he said.
600 i'm" 1 exclaimed. "What can we 90
in for?"
81 will play to her !" he exclaimed in an ex-
cited tone. Here is feeling, genius, understand
ing. / will play to her, and she will appreciate
it." And before could prevent, his hand was
upon the door.
a pale young man was sitting by the table
making shoes, and near him, leaning sorrowfully
upon an old-fashioned harpsichord, sat a young
girl with a profusion of light hair falling over her
bent face. Both were cleanly but very poorly
dressed, and both started and turned towards US
as we entered.
" Pardon me- said Beethoven, SO but heard
music, and was tempted to enter 1 am a musi-
cian.''
The girl blushed, and the young man looked
grave-somewhat annoyed.
"fl also overheard something of what you
said,' continued my friend " you wish to hear
that is, you would like-that is-shall 1 play
for you? 2"
There was something so odd in the whole affair,
and something eccentric and pleasant in the man
ner of the speaker, that the ice seemed broken in
a moment, and all smiled involuntarily.
Thank you" said the shoemaker, &" but our
harpsichord is SO wretched, and we have no
music"
"No music +" echoed my friend, " how then
does the Fraulein-?"
He paused and colored up, for the girl looked
full at him and he saw that She was blind.
81 entreat your pardon" he stammered,
&C but | had not perceived before. Then you play
from ear p"
Entirely"
And where do you hear the music since you
frequent no concerts?"
IL used to hear a lady practicing near us when
W. llNCu uG III w JOdlo dSOs DoAAhS ShO
evenings her windows were generally
open, and walked to and fro outside to listen to
her."
And you have never heard any other music?"
Nome, except street music" =
She seemed shy, so Beethoven said no more,
but seated himself quietly at the instrument and
began to play. He had no sooner struck the first
chord than l knew what would follow-how grand
he would be that night And l was not mistaken.
Never, during all the years l knew him, did 1
hear him play as he then played to the blind girl
and her brother. lie was inspired, and for the
instant that his fingers began to wander along the
keys. the very tone Of the instrument began to
grow sweeter and more equal.
The brother and sister were silent with wonder
and rapture. The former laid aside bis work
the latter, with her head bent slightly forward
and her hands pressed tightly over her breast,
croucbed down near the end of the harpsichord
as if fearing lest the beating of her heart would
break the flow of those magnificent, sweet sounds.
1t was as if we were all bound in a strange dream,
and only feared to wake.
Suddenly, the fame of the single candle wavered,
sunk, fiickered and went out. Beethoven paused,
and l threw open the shutters, admitting n flood
of brilliant moonlight. The room was almost as
light as before. and illumination fell strongest
upon piano and player. But the chain of his ideas
seemed to have been broken by the accident. His
head dropped on his breast his hands rested
upon his knees he seemed absorbed in medita-
ton. 1t was thus for some time.
At length the young hoemake arose and ap-
preached him eagerly, yet reverently. " Wonder
full man," he said in a low tone, /" who and what
are your"
The composer smiled as he could only smile,
benevolently, indulgently, kindly.
Listen " he said, as he played the opening
bars of the symphony F.
A cry of delight and recognition burst from
both, and exclaiming, "Then you are Beethoven. !"
they covered his hands with tears and kisses.
He arose to go, but they held him back with
tears and entreaties. I" Play to us once more-only
once morei"
He suffered himself to be led back to the in
The moon shown brightly In through
the window and lit up his glorious head and mas
sive figure.
81 will improvise a sonata to the moonlight ="
he said, looking up thoughtfully to the sky and
stars. Then his hands dropped upon the keys,
and he began playing a sad and infinitely lovely
movement which crept over the instrument like
the calm flow of moonlight over the dark earth.
This was followed by a wild, elm passage in
triple time-a sort of grotesque interlude, like
the dance of sprites upon the sward. Then came
a swift Ggnata tnaLe-a breathless, hurrying,
trembling movement, descriptive of fight and I'M
certainty, and vague, impulsive terror, which car
ried us away upon its rustling wings, and left us
oil emotion and wonder