It was inevitable that the pure symphonic form should decline in esteem during the romantic period; for it is based primarily on a love of pure design--the ‘da capo’ scheme of statement, development, and restatement, which remains the best method ever invented for vividly presenting musical ideas without extra-musical association or aid. It is primarily a mold for receiving ‘pure’ musical material, and the romantic period, as we have seen, had comparatively little use for music without poetic association. Of the best symphonies of the time the greater part have some general poetical designation, like the ‘Italian’ and ‘Scotch’ symphonies of Mendelssohn, or the ‘Spring’ and ‘Rhenish’ symphonies of Schumann. These titles were in some cases mere afterthoughts or concessions to the demands of the time, and in every case the merest general or whimsical suggestion. Yet they can easily be imagined as fitting the musical material, and they always manage to add interest to the work without interfering with the ‘absolute’ musical value. And even when they are without specific title they are infused with the spirit of the age--delight in sensuous effects and rich scoring, emotional melody, and varied harmonic support. For all this, as for nearly everything else in modern music, we must go back to Beethoven if we wish to find the source, but for purposes of classification Schubert may be set down as the first romantic symphonist. He adhered as closely as he could to the classical mold, though he never had a predominant gift for form. A beautiful melody was to him the law-giver for all things, and when he found such a melody it went its way refusing to submit to the laws of proportion. Yet this willfulness can hardly be regarded as standing in the way of outward success; the ‘Unfinished’ symphony in B minor could not be better loved than it is; it is safe to say that of all symphonies it is the most popular. It was written (two movements and a few bars of a scherzo) in 1822, was laid aside for no known reason, and lay unknown in Vienna for many years until rescued by Sir George Grove. The mysterious introduction in the ‘cellos and basses, as though to say, ‘It happened once upon a time’; the haunting ‘second theme’ introduced by the ‘cellos; the stirring development with its shrieks of the wood-wind--all are of the very stuff of romantic music. A purist might wish the work less diffuse, especially in the second movement; no one could wish it more beautiful. In the great C major symphony, written in the year of his death, Schubert seems to have been attempting a _magnum opus_. If he had lived, this work would certainly have been regarded as the first composition of his ‘second period.’ He labored over it with much more care than was his custom, and showed a desire to attain a cogent form with truly orchestral ideas. The best parts of the ‘Unfinished Symphony’ could be sung by the human voice; the melodies