this proposal; for among these Scherzos, etc., each of us had his favourite, and did not like the idea of its being removed from the place which it had long occupied.  The master, however, pointed to the three-movement sonatas—­Op. 10 in C minor, Op. 13, Op. 14, Op. 31 (Nos. 1 and 2), Op. 57, and others.  The last sonatas—­Op. 106 and Op. 110—­which contain more than three movements must be judged in quite a different manner” (Life of Beethoven, 3rd ed. vol. ii. pp. 215-16).

Schindler’s statements have sometimes been called in question; the above, however, bears on it the stamp of truth.

But how came it to pass that Beethoven’s first four sonatas—­Op. 2 (Nos. 1, 2, and 3) and Op. 7—­have four movements?  That is a question easier to ask than to answer.  Schindler’s remark that he followed custom is difficult to understand.  In our introductory chapter we spoke of twenty sonatas containing four movements written probably about the middle of the eighteenth century, also of one of Wagenseil’s for clavier with violin accompaniment; yet among the known sonatas of that period, these form a minority.  Woelfl’s Sonata in B flat (Op. 15) has four movements:  Allegro, Andante, Scherzo Allegro, and Finale (theme and variations), but that work appeared shortly after Beethoven’s Op. 2.

Even Haydn, who is said to have introduced the Minuet into the Symphony, remained faithful to the three-movement form of sonata.  Beethoven, however, wrote six sonatas consisting of two movements.  This change in the direction of simplicity is striking, for in his quartets the composer became more and more complex.  It seems as if he were merely intent on exhibiting strong contrast of mood:  agitation and repose, or fierce passion followed by heavenly calm; we are referring especially to the Sonata in E minor (Op. 90) and to the one in C minor (Op. 111).  The two sonatas of Op. 49—­really sonatinas written for educational purposes—­may be dismissed; also Op. 54, in the composition of which the head rather than the heart of the master was engaged.  Even Op. 78, in F sharp, in spite of the Countess of Brunswick, to whom it was dedicated, does not seem the outcome of strong emotion; and therefore we do not take it now into consideration.  The two sonatas (Op. 90 and 111) mentioned above are strong tone-poems, and the master having apparently said all that he had to say, stopped.  The story, already related, about having no time to complete Op. 111 must not be taken seriously.  Nevertheless, we do not for one moment imagine that Beethoven was thus reducing the number of movements, in accordance with some preconceived scheme.