of a movement, but of the movements inter se), and, therefore, the unity of the whole becomes more evident.  We must not be understood to mean that Weber worked without plan, or even careful thought; but merely, that the organic structure of his sonatas is far less closely knit than in those of the Bonn master; there is contrast rather than concatenation of ideas, outward show rather than inner substance.  The slow movements (with exception of those of the 1st and 2nd Sonatas, which have somewhat of a dramatic character) and Finales are satisfactory, per se, as music:  the former have charm, refinement; the latter, elegance, piquancy, brilliancy.  Now, in these sonatas, the opening movements seem like the commencement of some tragedy:  in No. 2 there is nobility mixed with pathos; in No. 3, fierce passion; and in No. 4, still passion, albeit of a tenderer, more melancholy kind.  But in the Finales it is as though we had passed from the tragedy of the stage to the melodrama, or frivolity of the drawing-room; they offer, it is true, strong contrast, yet not of the right sort, not that to which Beethoven has accustomed us.

Throughout the four sonatas we detect the hand of a great pianist.  In the first, the element of virtuosity predominates; the first and, especially, the last movement (the so-called Perpetuum mobile) are show pieces, though of a high order.  In the other sonatas the same element exists, and yet it seldom obtrudes itself; the composer is merely using, to the full, the rich means at his command to express his luxuriant and poetical thoughts.  In his writing for the instrument Weber recalls Dussek,—­the Dussek of the “Retour a Paris” and “Invocation” sonatas.  The earlier master was also a great pianist, and filled with the spirit of romance; still he lacked the force and fire of Weber.  Then, again, Dussek, in early manhood, passed through the classical crucible, whereas Weber was born and bred very much a la Bohemienne; he developed from within rather than from without.  It is easier to criticise than to create.  If we cannot place the sonatas of Weber on the same high level as those of Beethoven, we may at least say that they take very high rank; also, that in the hands of a great pianist they are certain to produce a powerful impression.

II.  Schubert

The other great contemporary of Beethoven was Franz Schubert, born in 1797, the year in which the former published his Sonata in E flat (Op. 7).  Then, again, Schubert’s earliest pianoforte sonata was composed in February 1815, while Beethoven’s Sonata in A (Op. 101) was produced at a concert only one year later (16th February 1816).  It is well to remember these dates, by which we perceive that Beethoven had written twenty-seven of his thirty-two sonatas before Schubert commenced composing works of this kind.  But though here and there the influence of the Bonn master may be felt in Schubert, the individuality of the latter was so strong, that we regard him as an independent contemporary.  The influence of Haydn and Mozart, plus his own mighty genius, seem almost sufficient to account for Schubert’s music.  The new edition of the composer’s works published by Messrs. Breitkopf & Haertel contains fifteen sonatas for pianoforte solo.  The first four—­