eighteenth-century music.  The second plan would not be approved by musicians who hold the classical masters in veneration; with a little modification, the first one, however, ought to meet with general acceptance.  We may write in keeping with the spirit of a past age, but the music must now be played on an instrument of different character, compass, and quality of tone; so surely in making additions (and, so far as certain ornaments are concerned, alterations) these things ought to be taken into consideration.  A certain latitude should, therefore, be allowed to the transcriber; hard-and-fast rules in such a delicate task are impossible.  The late Dr. Buelow edited six of Emanuel Bach’s sonatas,[67] and though he was well acquainted with the composer’s style of writing, his anxious desire to present the music in the most favourable light sometimes led him to make changes of which even lenient judges would not approve.  The matter is an interesting one, and we may therefore venture to refer somewhat in detail to one passage.  In the 3rd Sonata (F minor) of the 3rd Collection, the passage—­

[Music illustration]

has been changed by Buelow:  he has altered the C flat in the second half of the first bar into a C natural, thus smoothing down the hard progression to the key of B flat minor.  Now this very passage had already, nearly a hundred years previously, attracted the notice of Forkel, who admitted that, apart from the context, it jarred against his musical feeling.  But he had thought over the composer’s intention in writing that sonata, and had come to the conclusion that, in the opening Allegro, Bach wished to express indignation.[68] He therefore asks:  “Are the hard, rough, passionate expressions of an angry and indignant man beautiful?” In this case, Forkel was of opinion that the hard modulation was a faithful record of what the composer wished to express.[69] The natural order of history seems inverted here.  One would have expected Forkel to look upon the music from an abstract, but Buelow from a poetical point of view.  C.H.  Bitter—­also on purely musical grounds—­condemns Buelow’s alterations.  He says:—­“Even weaknesses of great masters, among which the passages in question are not to be counted, still more so, special peculiarities, should be left untouched.  What would become of Beethoven, if each generation of musicians, according to individual judgment, arrogated to itself the right, here and there, of expunging hardnesses, smoothing down peculiarities, and softening even sharp points with which, from time to time, we come into unpleasant contact?  Works of art must be accepted as they are.”

The first part of Bitter’s argument is sound; but, unfortunately for the last, the writer in his life of Emanuel Bach and his brothers insists on the necessity of not accepting Emanuel’s clavier works as they are.

He quotes a passage from the Andante of the 4th Sonata of the second set of the “Reprisen Sonaten,” and comes to the natural conclusion that it was only an outline requiring filling up.