Thomas Arne

“ The fog lifted more and more, the sun cut through it; there was life now about the fields and in the garden; all Arne's work sprouted out in fresh growth, sending fragrance and joy up to the mother. Spring is lovely to those who long have been surrounded by winter.
Arne had no fixed errand at the parsonage, but still he wanted to learn about the papers he and the priest took together. Recently he had seen the names of several Norsemen who had done remarkably well digging gold in America, and among them was Kristian. Now Arne had heard a rumor that Kristian was expected home. ”

“ Michael Arne, who unfortunately sold the manuscript to one Harrison, a bookseller in Paternoster-row, who becoming a bankrupt before the piece was published, it was publicly sold together with his other effects, to whom it is not now known, and never has been heard of since.” Six years after Dr. Arne’s death, in 1784, The Universal Magazine announced that Mr. Michael Arne was intending to publish his father’s “Death of Abel, Caractacus, and a Set of Concertos for the Harpsichord or Pianoforte with the Choruses in Judith.” Michael Arne died in 1786, without having accomplished his desire ”

“ Winter set in early, and it was always a relief to Arne to get out of school. He liked to get his skis and go flying down the steep slopes behind the town with Nels and Oscar and Torger and some of the other boys. Evart was away at school this year, and sometimes Arne took Bergel with him coasting. She knew how to steer the long sled almost as well as he did.
He would stop at home in the kitchen first, for he was sure to find Mother and Besta having a cup of afternoon coffee. Sometimes Aunt Tina would be there, too, and Signe and Margret. Sometimes one of the neighbors would come in. ”

“ The youth became well known as a composer and performer in London and Dublin. One of his songs, popular to-day, “The lass with a delicate air,” is sometimes ascribed in error to his father.
In 1752 Arne composed music for “Harlequin Sorcerer,” an old pantomime in which Rich had many years before made a great success. The performance took place at Covent Garden Theatre on the 11th of February, and there was an overwhelming demand for seats; the doors were therefore opened at three o’clock in the afternoon. The performers included Mrs. Arne, Mrs. Lampe, Mr. Lowe, Mr. Legge, and a Chorus. ”

“ Arne, the composer of “Rule, Britannia,” offers to the reader and to the music student an interesting and instructive story, showing that natural ability, even when combined with genius, is not sufficient to ensure a triumphant and successful career. Morality and conscientious rectitude in the affairs of life are essential, and had Arne exercised these, his exceptional gifts might have enabled him to surpass his great contemporary, Handel. ”

“ Arne felt every one looking at him, and therefore he could not raise his eyes.
"It is, as I have said," put in the first speaker; "nothing can be buried so deep [66] down in night that it will not find its way into daylight!"
"Well, now I will tell about a son who beat his own father," said a fair, heavily-built man, with a round face. Arne knew not where he was sitting.
"It was a bully of a powerful race, over in Hardanger; he was the ruin of many people. His father and he disagreed about the yearly allowance, and the result of this was that the man had no peace at home or in the parish. ”

“ But now he's gone to our Lord, and He'll be kinder to him, I'm sure." Then, as if she had been following out this thought within herself, she added, "We must pray for him. If I could, I would sing over him; but you, Arne, have such a fine voice, you must go and sing to your father."
Arne fetched the hymn-book and lighted a fir-splinter; and, holding it in one hand and the book in the other, he went to the head of the bed and sang in a clear voice Kingo's 127th hymn:
"Regard us again in mercy, O God! ”

“ No time was lost by Arne and his wife in making a venture for public favour. Faulkner’s Journal, July 13-17, exhibited the following advertisement: “At the particular Desire of several Persons of Quality, for the Benefit of Mrs. Arne, at the Great Room in Fishamble-street, on Wednesday, the 21st Inst., will be performed a grand Entertainment of Musick, to [Pg 20] be divided into three Interludes; wherein several favourite Songs and Duetto will be performed by Mrs. Arne and Mrs. Cibber. In the first Interlude (after an Overture of Mr. Handel’s) a Scene from Mr. Arne’s Opera of Rosamund, by Mrs. ”

“ He was too anxious and miserable to stay out playing, so he earned the pleased surprise of Herr Professor by going straight into the schoolroom, opening his book, and settling down. [70] But his thoughts were not on his Norwegian history, though that was a subject he really liked, full as it was of stirring events. His thoughts were with the freighter Stjerne, in peril out there on the stormy sea.
Arne hurried home right after school, hoping better news had come in. His mother was in a perfect fury of baking. She was making lefse, and he usually liked to watch her doing that. ”

“ Eli was very weak after her illness; the mother sat over her night and day, and was never down-stairs; the father made his usual visits up to the sick-room in his stocking feet, and leaving his cap outside of the door. Arne was still at the gard; he and the father sat together of evenings; he had come to think a good deal of Baard, who was a well-educated man, a deep thinker, but seemed to be afraid of what he knew. Arne helped him to get things right in his mind and told him much that he did not know before, and Baard was very grateful. ”

“ He began to go about fiddling as in former days, and took the boy with him to carry the fiddle-case. Thus Arne saw a great deal. The mother wept because he had to go along, but dared not say so to the father. "Hold faithfully to God, and learn nothing evil," she begged, and tenderly caressed her boy. But at the dances there was a great deal of diversion; at home with the mother there was none at all. Arne turned more and more from her and to the father; she saw this and was silent. [36] At the dances Arne learned many songs, and he sang them at home to his father ”

“ It shook whenever the wind was high, as though it wished to turn; and Arne stood looking at it so long that he felt at last he must climb up to unloose it. It was not frozen fast, as he thought: but a stick was fixed against it to prevent it from turning. He took the stick out and threw it down; Baard was just passing below, and it struck him.
"What are you doing?" said he, looking up.
"I'm loosening the vane."
"Leave it alone; it makes a wailing noise when it turns."
"Well, I think even that's better than silence," said Arne, seating himself astride on the ridge of the roof. ”

“ Arne, in whose 'Artaxerxes' he sang with great success, he travelled to Scotland and Ireland, returning to London in 1765, where he was the idol of the fashionable world, and received enormous sums for his performances. In spite of this, his vanity and extravagance were so unbounded that in 1776 he was forced to leave England for debt. In a year, however, he found means to return, and remained in London many years longer, singing with success as long as his voice lasted, and even when it had almost disappeared. ”

“ The people watch the advance of the season, talk over their matters, and look up at the sun and round about, to see how much he is able to do each day. They scatter ashes on the snow, and think of those who are now picking flowers.
It was at this time of year, old Margit Kampen went one day to the parsonage, and asked whether she might speak to "father." She was invited into the study, where the clergyman,—a slender, fair-haired, gentle-looking man, with large eyes and spectacles,—received her kindly, recognized her, and asked her to sit down.
"Is there something the matter with Arne again?" ”

“ A few days after, he gave Opplands-Knut a little farm on Kampen. "You shall not be lonely any longer," Arne said.
That winter Arne went to the parsonage for some time to do carpentry; and both the girls were often there together. When Arne saw them, he often wondered who it might be that now came to woo Eli Böen.
One day he had to drive for the clergyman's daughter and Eli; he could not understand a word they said, though he had very quick ears. Sometimes Mathilde spoke to him; and then Eli always laughed and hid her face. Mathilde asked him if it was true that he could make verses. ”

“ Later, when they had supped and said good-bye to the mother, Eli and Arne walked together along the road to the parsonage. It was one of those light summer nights when all things seem to whisper and crowd together, as if in fear. Even he who has from childhood been accustomed to such nights, feels strangely influenced by them, and goes about as if expecting something to happen: light is there, but not life. Often the sky is tinged with blood-red, and looks out between the pale clouds like an eye that has watched. ”

“ Then he took to going out oftener to play the fiddle at parties; this gave him more opportunities for drinking, and thus came more fighting and miserable days.
One winter day, when Arne was about six years old, he was playing on the bed, where he had set up the coverlet for a boat-sail, while he sat steering with a ladle. The grandmother sat in the room spinning, busy with her own thoughts, and every now and then nodding, as though in affirmation of her own conclusions. Then the boy knew she was taking no notice of him ”

“ As he worked, he sang some of the rollicking folk songs Besta had taught them long ago; and that made the job go even faster. Old Ole worked with them; he knew songs Arne had never heard. Before long Father joined the group; and by the time they stopped for supper, a good share of the work was out of the way.
“There, now,” said Father with satisfaction. “We are going to see to it that those poor folks in America do not starve for good Norwegian lutfisk. Time to stop for supper. I wonder what Mother will have for us to eat.”
“Hope it won’t be lutfisk,” said Arne fervently, and they all laughed. ”

“ He did not know what to answer; and he heard her weeping again in the dark. A clock that was ticking on the wall warned for striking, and then struck. Eli breathed deeply several times, as if she would lighten her breast, and then she said, "One knows so little; I knew neither father nor mother. I haven't been kind to them; and now it seems so sad to hear that hymn."
When we talk in the darkness, we speak more faithfully than when we see each other's face; and we also say more.
"It does one good to hear you talk so," Arne replied, just remembering what she had said when she was taken ill. ”

“ They heard steps on the stairs, and let go of each other's hands. It was Eli's mother, who was bringing in a light. "You are sitting quite too long in the dark," said she, and put the candlestick on the table. But neither Eli nor Arne could bear the light; she turned toward the pillow, he held his hand up before his eyes. "Oh, yes; it hurts the eyes a little at first," said her mother; "but that will soon pass off."
Arne searched on the floor for the cap he did not have with him, and then he left the room. ”

“ Arne took a seat opposite her; and, turning to him, she went on, "And to think that he should have such an end as this! even if he has not lived as he ought, truly he has suffered for it." She wept, looked over to the dead man, and continued, "But now God grant I may be repaid for all I have gone through with him. Arne, you must remember it was for your sake I suffered it all." ”

“ Mathilde and Eli both came in to look on. They were disputing about something in the corner where [113] they stood. Eli would not, but Mathilde would, and she won. Then they both crossed the floor to him, courtesied, and asked whether he could dance. He answered "No," and then they both turned, laughed, and ran away. "They keep up a perpetual laughter," thought Arne, and became sober. But the priest had a little adopted son, about ten or twelve years old, of whom Arne thought a good deal; from this boy Arne learned to dance when no one else was present. ”

“ Arne was not the mildest of men, and he cried:
“I’ll pickle your roast beef, Davey, before I am done!”
The threat was no idle one. Refused an engagement at Drury Lane, which was under Garrick’s management, Arne set up his famous pupil at Covent Garden, where she had such success in The Beggar’s Opera, that all the town flocked to hear her, and Garrick was nearly ruined.
The degree of Mus. Doc. was conferred on Arne by Oxford University in July, 1759. In addition to being a great composer, he was a great teacher, laying particular stress on the importance of clear enunciation of the words. ”

“ Arne opened the door and looked at him.
"Is that you, my clever boy? Come and help your father up!"
He was raised up and helped in toward the bench. Arne took up the fiddle-case, carried it in, and closed the door.
[46] "Yes, look at me, you clever boy. I am not handsome now; this is no longer tailor Nils. This I say—to you, that you—never shall drink brandy; it is—the world and the flesh and the devil—He resisteth the proud but giveth grace unto the humble.—Ah, woe, woe is me!—How far it has gone with me!"
He sat still a while, then he sang, weeping,—
"Merciful Lord, I come to Thee ”

“ Dr. Burney says that the adventurers, or partners, in the speculation included Arne and his son, and the performers, Miss Arne and Miss Cecilia Young, afterward young Arne’s wife. Arne now resolved to essay his powers in composition, by setting to music the libretto of Rosamond, written by Addison. The music of the chief character he designed for his sister, and the part of the Page for his young brother Michael. The work when completed was presented to the public at the theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields on the 7th of March, 1733. ”