At this point the question naturally arises: "Just what do we mean by classic beauty?" In a general way a book, a picture or a piece of music becomes a "classic" when it is universally accepted as a model of its kind. In this sense Grey's "Elegy in a Country Churchyard" is a classic; so are Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, the Sistine Madonna, and the Apollo Belvedere. The same term is applied to Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, and to Schumann's "Tr?merei." These works of art represent many varieties of mood, of style, and of structure, and the application to them all of the term "classic" is a very broad usage. "Classic," as opposed to "Romantic," in music, means something quite different and much more definite. It refers to purity of outline and simplicity of harmony; to pure beauty of sound as opposed to luxuriance or the poignancy produced by dissonances; to clear and translucent colors and definite lines curved in beauty, rather than to picturesqueness. Classical music tells its story clearly and definitely and does not depend on suggestion, as does, for example, the romantic music of Schumann.

Our illustrations from Haydn have revealed how this classic spirit gradually approached its culmination. In his Andante with Variations there is something of the classic spirit, though the occasional diffuse ornamentation of the trio theme mars the purity of the composition. In the movement from the "Surprise" Symphony there is too much that is rustic to admit of its being considered altogether classic. But a fine example of the classic type is afforded by the first movement of Mozart's G-minor Symphony, discussed in Chapter IX. The distinction may be made still more clear by reference to Figure XLIV, containing (a) the opening phrases of the Finale of Tschaikowsky's "Path?ique" Symphony, and (b) a short quotation from Schumann's Novelette, op. 21, No. 1.

(a)

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(b)

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FIGURE XLIV.