the
development section is disappointing. The Adagio seems like an
arrangement of a lovely symphonic movement; the orchestra, and not the
pianoforte, must have been in the composer's mind when he penned it.
The lively Scherzo, with its quiet Trio, is a little gem. The
clear-cut, concise form of such movements saved Schubert from all
danger of diffuseness; and in them, as Mozart remarked to the Emperor
Joseph, who complained of the number of notes in his opera, _Die
Entfuehrung_, there are "just as many as are necessary." The sonata in
A minor (Op. 164), which consists of three movements, is short and
delightful from beginning to end. In the opening Allegro the second
subject occurs, by way of exception, in the major key of the
submediant. There is much to admire in the 3rd, in E flat, especially
the Minuet and Trio; yet the music is not pure Schubert. About six
years elapsed between this and the next sonata, in A minor (1823).
Schubert had already written his B minor Symphony, and though the
first two movements of the sonata will not compare with those of the
former in loftiness of conception, there is a certain kinship between
the two works. In both there are fitful gusts of passion, a feeling of
awe, and a tone of sadness which tells of disappointed hopes, of lost
illusions. The Finale, though fine, stands on a lower level. During
the years 1825-26, Schubert wrote, besides one in A major (Op. 120),
three magnificent sonatas: one in A minor, dedicated to the Archduke
Rudolph (Op. 42), another in D (Op. 53), and a third in G (Op. 78). In
these three works we have the composer's ripest efforts. The first
movement of the 1st, in A minor, is well-nigh perfect. That opening
phrase--

[Music illustration]

haunts one like a sad dream; and the development section, long,
though not monotonous, is full of it. Without sacrificing his
individuality, Schubert has here caught something of Beethoven's
peculiar method of treating a theme,--that is, of evolving new phrases
from its various sections. The coda, again, has penetrating power, and
the fierce concluding phrase sounds like the passionate resistance of
a proud artist to the stern degrees of fate. The tender melody and
delicate variations of the Andante, the bold Scherzo, with its soft
Trio, and the energetic Finale are all exceedingly interesting; yet
they do not affect us like the first movement, in which lies not only
the majesty, but the mystery of genius. The sonata in