Now for his Symphonies. First, his greatest, in A minor, which is supposed to owe its inspiration to his recollections of Scotland. In its wild, tender, melancholy melody and coloring, its romantic, breezy, sea-shore character, it has affinity with the _Hebrides_ overture. How deep and tender the introductory _Andante con Moto_, 3-4! And how charmingly the kindred _Allegro_ melody, 6-8, sets out from it and runs so smoothly and so rapidly, most of the way in octaves between the first violins and low clarinet tones! How it winds in and out among the instruments, now quiet and individual, now borne along upon the swelling, roaring tide of the whole orchestra! How it keeps its sweet, sad, minor mood, relieved only by one little bit of sunshiny major! Then, after the repeat, what wild, strange, sea-shore modulations, the cool, mysterious thrill of ocean and the Infinite! And when again those shuddering modulations cross the smooth mirror, the excitement swells to a furious climax, and all the strings rush up and down the chromatic scale with a tremendous vehemence; and it all dies down again, till only flutes and reeds are left streaming in the air, sliding leisurely down tone by tone, and leading back to the _Andante_. Compare this exciting climax with one correspondingly placed in the seventh symphony of Beethoven; if it has not that Promethean fire that could defy Olympus, is it feeble in comparison? In the _Scherzo_ the scene shifts to sunny playfulness. Vividly the laughing theme leaps out from voice after voice; the instruments seem to speak, as Schumann says, like men. What hurrying, huddling gleesomeness in the accompaniments, like the tiny waves that crowd up round the spot where the fountain's column falls! In hushed _staccato_ the strings whisper a new motive, which is taken up by all and developed, with fragments of the laughing theme; and there seems to be a pointed allusion, fond and playful, to a characteristic of Scotch melody, in that emphatic mocking of the cadence of a minor third! It floats sportively away, in the violins, against a skyey background of oboe and horn tones, charming the soul away with it in pleased forgetfulness, when with a sudden revulsion of consciousness we are in the minor chord of D (like a great sob, escaping involuntarily), leading with solemn, stately measure and a sound of warning into the _Adagio_ in A, 2-4, a most lovely, deep and tender movement, in which the orchestra seems to sing a Psalm of Life.... Upon this bursts, like a flash of sunshine over the sombre water, the _Vivacissimo_, a most dashing, brilliant theme, pausing anon to let a more pensive melody of reeds be heard; but with rough, impatient vehemence the basses break off the episode, and the bacchic frenzy of the movement storms itself away again, until its force is spent, and the quiet naïve little reed theme gets another chance and runs fondling and chatting along in duet between bassoon and oboe, and the strain sinks to sleep