THE READER, of his charity, will not demand of me here to survey completely the whole field of orchestral music, for that is as impossible as would be the inclusion of every poem in a book on poetry. Already it has been shown that the art (if not the science) of music in this, its supreme manifestation, has developed rapidly only within the past two hundred years. To burden ourselves, therefore, with any lengthy historical outlines of the symphony, overture, suite, tone- poem, or other forms of orchestral music could only delay unconscionably the argument now being undertaken, since, in previous chapters, we have already witnessed the centuries-old rivalry between the composer and the maker of instruments.
We are now at the point where the living flesh of all this later music concerns us more than the dry bones of mere research into archaic forms. Those who are interested to go into the subject more deeply can read at length in such works as Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians how the symphony came into being--and that almost apologetically, so small were its dimensions in the initial stages. There they may read not only of Haydn, the "father of the symphony," but of those progenitors before him, such as Abel, Stamitz, Emanuel and John Christian Bach, Wagenseil (not to be confused with that earlier musician of the same name who, in the seventeenth century, wrote a history of the Mastersingers without which Wagner's opera might never have been composed), Paradisi, and that Galuppi whose Toccata inspired Robert Browning to such brilliant versification. Yet so absorbingly interesting has this particular form of music become