CHAPTER VIII.

THE CLASSICS.[26]

"Genuine work done faithfully, that is eternal."—Thomas Carlyle.

The older we grow and the more we study, the more we shall hear about the classics, about classic music, and classic art, and classic books. From the beginning let us keep it in our minds that one of our duties is to find out the difference between what is classic and what is not. Then we shall have a proper understanding. An English writer on art says: "The writers and painters of the classic school set down nothing but what is known to be true, and set it down in the perfectest manner possible in their way."[27]

And we have already learned that thought from the heart, expressed in tones, is good music. On the other hand, a thought with the heart not in it, expressed in tone, makes poor or common music. Mendelssohn wrote in one of his letters: "When I have composed a piece just as it springs from my heart, then I have done my duty toward it."[28] But in writing thoughts, whether in words or in tones, there is a very important thing to add to the bidding of the heart. It is the training of the mind. With both of these one works and judges wisely.

With thought and intention ever so pure, but with no education, one would not be able to write for others, and with a little education one would be able to write only in a partially correct way. This brings us to one of the most interesting Talks we shall have. Let us try to make it clear and simple.

We can easily imagine a man both true and good who can neither write nor spell. Happily, in these days, nearly all people who are old enough know how to do both. We can understand that this man may have beautiful thoughts—the thoughts of a true poet or of a true artist—but being unable to write or to spell he could not put his thoughts on paper for others to read and to study. This is the way thoughts are preserved and made into books so that people may benefit by them.

It would, therefore, be necessary for this man, about whom we speak, to get the assistance of some one who knew how to write thoughts and to spell their words. Then, together, they would have to talk about the thoughts, choose proper words, form the sentences, and make all fit rightly together as a writer must who desires to be clear. But it is more than likely that the one who writes would not do all these things to the satisfaction of the other. Of this there could be but one result. The person who had the beautiful thoughts would be forever wishing that he had learned in the first days to write and to spell. Then he could do all these things for himself and show his thoughts to others exactly as he wished them to appear.

Now it is clear that some may have beautiful and valuable thoughts and not know how to write them, while others may have the ability to write without having thoughts worth preserving. Evidently what one must have are both beautiful thoughts and ability to write them.

Did you think when I read you that bit from the letter of Mendelssohn that all a composer has to do is to find in his heart just what he wants to say? As we have already discovered, that is not enough. To show you that Mendelssohn was not afraid of hard work let us read a little from another of his letters.[29] Mendelssohn had resolved to work in Germany and maintain himself. "If I find that I cannot do this, then I must leave it for London or Paris, where it is easier to get on. I see indeed where I should be more honored, and live more gaily and more at my ease than in Germany, where a man must press forward, and toil, and take no rest,—still, if I can succeed there, I prefer the latter."[30]

We can now understand that it is quite the same with word-thinkers and with tone-thinkers. Good thoughts and the proper writing of them make the classics.

Out of this thought there comes another. It is this: Great thoughts, expressed well, out of a great heart, make the works which last the longest; and still further, for one truth leads out of another. Only they can appreciate the classics who have something that is classic within them. They must have the heart true in its feeling, tender in its sentiments. Even a child can have that. They must have the mind trained in the truest and best way of expressing thought. And a child may begin to learn that. Hence we see that a child may be classic worthy. Only we must never, never, no matter what is our ability, think we are better or above others. The more talents one has the more one is expected to do and the greater duty it is.[31]

Thus far we have three truths; now here is a fourth: Some love the classics sooner and better than others because they have more power. And how do they get it? They think more (thought-making); they feel more (heart-learning); and they see more (truth-seeking).

Let us at once go back and gather together these four truths. They are important. Perhaps some of us who are willing to spend the time will learn them from memory.

And to repay us for the trouble of doing it we shall have greater and greater understanding of many things. Here they are:

I. Good thoughts and the proper writing of them make the classics.

II. Great thoughts, expressed well, out of a great heart, make the
works which last the longest.

III. Only they can appreciate the classics who have something that
is classic within them.

IV. Some love the classics sooner and better than others because
they have more power.

What shall these truths teach us? That true music cannot be learned rapidly; that the way of Art is long and difficult. But if the way is long, it is yet beautiful in every turn; if it is difficult, it is yet worth a struggle for what comes. As you read the lives of the great composers you will learn that they went willingly about their tasks, doing each one well. This is done by all great men. Great men take short steps carefully, no matter how rapidly they can go.

One of them [32] wrote: "Success comes with tiny steps." And it comes entirely unsought. Besides all this we are to remember that the power for these things comes from

I. Thought-making;

II. Heart-learning;

III. Truth-seeking.

Now, just to end with let us read a few words from a book I trust we all may read some day: [33] "Great art is the expression of the mind of a great man, and mean art of a weak man." Let us remember that in choosing things to play.

Further on Ruskin says: "If stone work is well put together, it means that a thoughtful man planned it, and a careful man cut it, and an honest man cemented it." [34]

Likewise in these things one can see what is classic—work out of the heart and well done, and that comes from a thoughtful, careful, honest person.