the rhythmical consequence of the increase of tone during the
crescendo. But the modifications here indicated are usually
overlooked; and the sense of artistic propriety is outraged by a
sudden and vulgar vivace, as though the whole piece were meant
for a jest, and the gaiety had at last begun! People seem to
think this "classical." [FOOTNOTE: For further comments upon this
Quartet see Appendix B.]

I may have been top circumstantial, but the matter is of
incalculable importance. Let us now proceed to look still more
closely into the wants and requirements of a proper performance
of classical music. In the foregoing investigations I hoped to
have elucidated the problem of the modification of tempo, and to
have shewn how a discerning mind will recognise and solve the
difficulties inherent in modern classical music. Beethoven has
furnished the immortal type of what I may call emotional,
sentimental music--it unites all the separate and peculiar
constituents of the earlier essentially naive types; sustained
and interrupted tone, cantilena and figurations, are no longer
kept formally asunder--the manifold changes of a series of
variations are not merely strung together, but are now brought
into immediate contact, and made to merge one into the other.
Assuredly, the novel and infinitely various combinations of a
symphonic movement must be set in motion in an adequate and
appropriate manner if the whole is not to appear as a
monstrosity. I remember in my young days to have heard older
musicians make very dubious remarks about the Eroica. [FOOTNOTE:
Beethoven's Symphony, No. III.] Dionys Weber, at Prague, simply
treated it as a nonentity. The man was right in his way; he chose
to recognise nothing but the Mozartian Allegro; and in the strict