If I have ventured to translate Dr. Eduard Hanslick's Vom Musikalisch-Schonen, I have done so with a full knowledge of the shortcomings which every translation must present, and especially one like this, the original of which is so inimitable in style and so thoroughly German in construction that even far more competent writers than myself would find it difficult, if not impossible, to do complete justice to it. My excuse for undertaking so arduous a task must be the desire to introduce to the English reader one of the most remarkable books on musical aesthetics, and one which has deservedly gained a wide reputation among the German-speaking communities. The work is not of recent date, the first edition having appeared close on forty years ago; yet, as is the case with all works dealing with principles and not with questions of local or contemporary interest, the fact of its age in no way detracts from its importance. In conclusion, I may say that I have not aimed so much at perfection in style as at reflecting with fidelity the mind and spirit of the author. 

GUSTAV COHEN May, 1891

PREFACE TO THE SEVENTH EDITION

This, the seventh edition of the work which first appeared in the year 1854, does not differ materially from the fifth (1876) and sixth (1881) editions, but merely contains some explanatory and amplifying additions. By way of introducing it to the public I should best like to borrow the words with which the estimable Fr. Th. Vischer has just prefaced the reprint of an older essay of his ("Der Traum"). 

I include this essay in the present collection without defending it from the attacks which have been leveled against it. I have also refrained from improving it except for some minor alterations. I might now, perhaps, here and there choose a different mode of expression, give a fuller exposition, or assert things in a more qualified and guarded manner. Who is ever completely satisfied with a work when he reads it again after the lapse of years? Yet everyone knows only too well that corrective touches often rather spoil than improve.

If I were to enter upon a polemic campaign and reply to all criticisms which my book has provoked, this volume would grow to an alarming size. My convictions remained unchanged, and so has the irreconcilable opposition of some contemporary, contrary musical parties. Therefore the reader will allow me to repeat some of the remarks which I made in the preface to the third edition.

I know the shortcomings of this essay but too well. But the favorable reception accorded to the earlier editions, a reception which far exceeded my expectations, and the highly gratifying interest taken in the book by eminent philosophers and experts in music, have convinced me that my views­-the somewhat categorical and rhapsodical manner in which they were originally stated notwithstanding--fell on fertile ground. To my happy surprise, I found a very notable agreement with these views in the aphorisms and short essays on music by [Franz] Grillparzer, published only some ten years ago, after the poet's death. Some of the most valuable of his propositions I could not refrain from quoting in this new edition. I have discussed them at greater length in my essay, "Grillparzer und die Musik."

Vehement opponents have occasionally imputed to me a flat and unqualified denial of whatever goes under the name of feeling, but every impartial and attentive reader will have readily observed that I only protest against the intrusion of the feelings upon the province of science; in other words, that I take up the cudgels against those aesthetic enthusiasts who, though presuming to tell musicians what to do, are really only expressing their own tinkling opium dreams. 

I agree with those who hold that the ultimate worth of the beautiful must ever depend upon the immediate verdict of the feelings. But at the same time I firmly uphold the conviction that all the customary appeals to our emotional faculty never provide us with a single musical law.

This conviction forms the principal but negative thesis of this inquiry. This thesis is mainly and primarily rejects the widely accepted doctrine that the office of music is "to represent feelings." It is difficult to see why this should be thought equivalent to affirming that music is absolutely destitute of feeling. The rose smells sweet, but we do not say that its subject represents the sweet odor; the forest is cool and shady, but it certainly does not represent the feeling of coolness and shadiness. It is not a mere verbal quibble to challenge the term "to represent," because from this term arises the grossest errors in musical aesthetics. The "representing" of something always involves the conception of two separate and distinct objects, each of which by a special act are purposely brought into relation with the other.

In a felicitously chosen parallel, Emanuel Geibel describes this relation in the following couplets with greater perspicuity and more agreeably than philosophic analyses could ever do:

Warum glückt es dir nie, Musik mit Worten zu schildern?

Weil sie, ein rein Element, Bild und Gedanken verschmäht. 

Selbst das Gefühl ist nur wie ein sanft durchscheinender Flussgrund,

Drauf ihr klingender Strom sinkend und schwellend entrollt. 

[Why doesn't it ever work out to describe music with words? 

Because a pure element rejects pictures and thoughts. 

In itself, feeling is only a smooth and transparent riverbed, 

Upon which rolls the ringing stream of feeling, subsiding and swelling.] 

Now, as I have reason to believe that the author of these beautiful lines was inspired by my essay, it appears to me that my views, so vigorously denounced by romantic enthusiasts, are actually compatible with true poetry.

This negative proposition is complemented by its correlative, the affirmative proposition that the beauty of a composition is specifically musical, i.e., it inheres in the combinations of musical tones and is independent of all extrinsic, extramusical notions. The author has honestly endeavored to make an exhaustive inquiry into the positive aspects of the "musically beautiful" as the source of our art and the supreme laws of its aesthetics. If, however, the controversial and negative elements predominate, I must plead the circumstances of the time as my excuse. When I wrote this treatise the advocates of the "music of the future" were loudest in their praises of it, provoking a reaction on the part of people with opinions such as mine. Just when I was busy preparing the second edition, Liszt's "Program Symphonies" appeared, which denied to music more completely than ever before its independent sphere and infused the listener with a sort of vision-promoting medicine. Since then, the world has been enriched by Richard Wagner's Tristan, The Ring of the Nibelungen, and his doctrine of endless melody, i.e., formlessness exalted into a principle, the intoxicating effect of opium manifested both in vocal and instrumental music, for whose worship a temple has been specially erected at Bayreuth.

I trust I may be applauded when, in the face of such symptoms, I felt no inclination to shorten or soften the polemic part of this essay, but on the contrary pointed out more emphatically than ever to the one immutable factor in music, musical beauty, such as our great masters have embodied in their works, and such as true musical genius will produce to the end of time.

EDUARD HANSLICK 
Vienna, January, 1885.