nable
society, with its emptiness and repeated insincerities. There is a
suggestion of entering into the closet, and of shutting the door, as a
prerequisite to the full enjoyment of these ineffable pictures and
images which come from his revelation.

In the present full-grown faith in the doctrine of the capacity of man
for a development continually progressive, it would be presumptuous to
say that the three composers, Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven, have
reached the limit of art, so far as instrumental music goes. In the
nature of the case, there is not, nor can there be an _Ultima Thule_
in art. Whatever the splendor of color, the nobility of conception, or
the sincerity and loyalty of purpose, and however resplendent the
works created by these exceptional talents, there is reason to hope
that better works still may yet be in store. Stronger and yet stronger
imaginations, more perfect technique of expression and finer
inspiration, may yet be the lot of fortunate individuals of the
twentieth century, inheriting the richly diversified musical
experiences of the present time. But in one direction there is little
doubt that these three great masters _did_ carry the art of
instrumental music to a pinnacle beyond which no one as yet has been
able to soar. They represent the climax of classical art. In the
nature of the case, the term classical itself is subject to an element
of uncertainty. According to the philosopher Hegel, the classical is
that art in which the _form_ is beautiful and wholly satisfactory in
symmetry, while the _content_ exactly matches it in fullness and
beauty. Or, in ordinary usage, the classical is the first-class, the
superior, the highly finished, the standard. And since music is a
matter of sense perception, and the impressions resulting from it are
in some degree dependent upon the ability of the hearer to find the
principles of unity (in other words, "the sense of it"), every
generation extends the list of the classical, and includes much which
the preceding one found imperfect and strained. So far as our
knowledge and experience have yet gone, however, there is a sense in
which the productions of these great masters are likely to remain long
unmatched in beauty and worth.

Nothing has been done since that surpasses the sustained beauty of the
Beethoven adagios, of which we find the most beautiful specimens
naturally among the orchestral pieces and in the chamber music, where
he could depend upon