No. 1, in E (1815),
No. 2, in C (1815),
No. 3, in A flat (1817), and
No. 4, in E minor (1817),

had hitherto only been known by name.

In following the career of a great composer, his first efforts, however humble, however incomplete, are of interest; but from a purely musical point of view the Minuets of Nos. 2 and 3 are the most attractive portions of these sonatas; we catch in them glimpses of that freshness and romantic beauty which characterise Schubert’s later productions.

In moments of strong inspiration, Schubert worked wonders, yet the lack of regular and severe study often makes itself felt.  Though colouring may enhance counterpoint, it will not serve as a substitute for it.  Then there is, at times, monotony of rhythm; and this, to a great extent, was the result of little practice in the art “of combining melodies.”

While on the subject of Schubert’s failings, we may as well complete the catalogue.  In the later sonatas we meet with diffuseness; and sometimes a stroke of genius is followed by music which, at any rate for Schubert, is commonplace.  It seems presumption to weigh the composer in critical balances, and to find him wanting; but he stands here side by side with Beethoven, and the contrast between the two men forces itself on our notice.  Both were richly endowed by nature.  By training, and the power of self-criticism which the latter brings with it, Beethoven was able to make the most of his gifts; Schubert, on the other hand, by the very lavish display which he sometimes made, actually weakened them.  There is no page of musical history more touching than the one which records how the composer, after having written wonderful songs, grand symphonies, and other works too numerous to mention, made arrangements to study with S. Sechter, one of the most eminent theorists of the day.  The composer paid the latter a visit on the 4th November 1828; but within a fortnight, Schubert was no longer in the land of the living.  When too late, he seems to have made the discovery which, perhaps, his very wealth of inspiration had hidden from him up to that moment, namely, that discipline strengthens genius.  One may point out faults in Schubert’s art-works, yet his melodies and harmonies are so bewitching, his music altogether so full of spontaneity and inspiration, that for the time being one is spellbound.  Schumann was fairly right when he described Schubert’s lengths as “heavenly.”

Three more sonatas were produced in the year 1817, the first in the unusual key of B major; and here we find a marked advance in conception and execution.  It opens with an Allegro, the total effect of which, however, is not satisfactory; the principal theme has dramatic power, and what follows has lyrical charm, but the development section is disappointing.  The Adagio seems like an arrangement of a lovely symphonic movement; the orchestra, and not the pianoforte, must have been in the composer’s mind when he penned