The four symphonies in C minor, D, F and E minor are justly regarded as the most important orchestral works of our generation. Much is still written against them, and not everybody is willing or able to share the enthusiasm which their good performance arouses among the majority of cultivated audiences. Yet nothing can shake their high position among all symphonic works written since the great master of the immortal Ninth has left this earth. They have each a very individual character and, although in the main the old form is retained, new features are to be found in almost every movement. The first symphony opens with an impressive sostenuto introduction, the others begin at once with the principal subject of the allegro. Usually the first part of the latter is brought to a formal close and repeated; only in the fourth symphony, so rich in thematic material, no repetition occurs, but a very elaborate working out prepares for the climax reached in the concentrated recapitulation. Everywhere noble themes are finely contrasted, wonderfully developed, wholly or in fragments, in the working out, so as to hold the listener in breathless suspense. The allegros of the first and second symphonies have particularly fine codas. The slow movements are not very extensive and are easily enjoyed, their quieter and lofty mood being but little disturbed. However, the adagio in No. 2 is more complicated, has richer material, more frequent changes of key and rhythm, a more elaborate figure work and a peculiarly intimate spirit. A remarkable innovation is the consequent substitution for a minuet or scherzo of a sort of intermezzo, full of grace, sunshine and innocent playfulness, hardly disturbed by more serious episodes. Most extended is this in No. 4, a rondo with themes of an almost grotesque character, surprising details in their development and a spirit of true Beethoven-like humor. Yet those of the first three symphonies are of no less importance, having two distinct parts, of which the second one (contrary to the older trio) has a livelier character. Especially that of No. 2 is one of the most delightful orchestral pieces of modern literature. That Brahms is indeed a symphonist of the highest rank, is particularly evident in his finales. That of No. 1 is conceived in the grandest spirit, opened by a solemn introduction of overwhelming beauty and impressiveness, the allegro based on themes of rare inspiration, their wonderful development rising from climax to climax like a great triumphal procession. Still the finale of No. 2 is not less inspiring; even more brilliant, with its glorious themes, the splendid instrumentation and exciting coda. In No. 3 the closing movement has the unusual minor key, is less dithyrambic, yet not lacking in life, a choral-like episode forming a fine contrast, and the whole ending happily in a long, quiet coda in F major with a poetic reminiscence of the principal subject of the opening movement. One may justly regard the