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.

CHAPTER IX.

WHAT WE SHOULD PLAY.

"But blessings do not fall in listless hands."_--Bayard Taylor._

We already begin to understand what the classics are. Year by year as
our interest in the beautiful increases, we shall gain more definite
knowledge about classic art. That which is classic will begin to
announce itself in us. Our own choice indicates our taste but does not
always indicate what is best for us. And one of the purposes of art is
to improve the taste by setting before us the finest works; in these,
by study, we find beauty with which we are unacquainted. Thus we
enlarge our capacity for it.

Because we are born with taste unformed and untrained you can at once
see the reason for gradually increasing the tasks. They are always a
little more difficult--like going up a mountain--but they give a finer
and finer view. The outlook from the mountain-top cannot be had all at
once. We must work our way upward for it. Hence you will observe in
your lessons that what was once a fitting task is no longer of quite
the same value because of your increased power. But about this
especially we shall have a Talk later on.

When one has heard much music of all kinds, one soon begins to
understand that there are two kinds commonly chosen. Some players
choose true music with pure thought in it, and do their best to play
it well after the manner called for by the composer. Their aim is to
give truthful expression to the music of a good writer. Other players
seem to work from a motive entirely different. They select music which
is of a showy character, with much brilliancy and little thought in
it. Their aim is not to show what good music is, but to show
themselves. The desire of the first is truth, of the second is vanity.

Now, as we examine into this, and into both kinds of music, we
discover much. It proves that we must work for the best; for the
truthful music, not for the vain music. As we get better acquainted
with true music we find it more and more interesting--it keeps saying
new things to us. We go to it again and again, getting new meanings.
But the showy music soon yields all it has; we find little or nothing
more in it