A more purely technical work was the Études Symphoniques, written in 1834 simultaneously with the Carnival, on a theme of Fricken’s. These variations are as significant for Schumann as the Goldberg variations for Bach or the Diabelli variations for Beethoven. They are a breviary of all specialities in expression. All Schumann’s characteristics were here: the strongly accented fugue, the tied notes with repeated chord accompaniment, the cantabile with broken chords, the staccato chords in canon, the dotted rhythms of Var. IV., the complicated syncopations of Var. V., the bold phrasing of Var. VI., the Bach-like style of Var. VII., the hurrying rush of semiquavers in Étude IX., the duet of voices with tremolo accompaniment in Var. IX., the march with contrapuntal treatment on pedal points which concludes the work--all was here; and all was made into a delicate étude in which that union of technique and poetry was constantly completing itself in fresh form. In the Sonata (or concerto) “without orchestra” (Op. 14) which he recast later without introducing much warmth of feeling, we observe chiefly the strong influence of Bach, which informs the last movement. If we look closely, indeed, we shall be often reminded of Bach in the last works, particularly in the Symphonic Études. Certain slurred ornamental figures, certain tricks of accompaniment, the play of dotted and triplet rhythms, the canonic carrying-out of the theme, left no doubt that Schumann had been trained on Bach, and that he had strengthened his musical consciousness by the study of a music in which there is not a superfluous line. The Letters make this certain. In 1832 he sat over the Wohltemperiertes Klavier, his Grammar, and occupied himself in analysing the fugues down to their minutest ramifications. “The use of such a process is great, and has a morally strengthening influence upon the whole man; for Bach was a man, through and through; in him there is nothing half-finished, nothing halting; all is written for eternity.” All this has a special and peculiar influence on Schumann. The abstract music of a Bach is mingled with the concrete representative secondary aims of romance, which find an entrance all the more easily as this absolute art, free from all words and all that is ephemeral, is by far the most expressive to the profoundly musical spirit. Bach’s art expresses every phase of feeling, and the emotions are so wide-embracing that they never find a boundary in the domain of reality. This art is the original realm of all transcendental desires. “The profound power of combination, poetry and humour in the new music,” wrote Schumann in 1846, “has its origin for the most part in Bach. Mendelssohn, Bennett, Chopin, Hiller, the so-called Romantics, as a whole, stand far nearer to Bach than to Mozart; for as a whole they know Bach through and through. I myself daily confess to this high power, to purify myself,