They could not all be either great or small. There must
be many kinds; then the young in time take the place of the old, and
the strong survive the weak. Together beneath the same sky,
deep-rooted in the beautiful, bountiful earth, they grow side by side.
The same sun shines upon them all, the same wind and the same rain
come to them, selecting no one before another. What are they all
doing? Each living its true life, as best it can. It is true they may
not come and go, they may not choose, but as we see them, beautiful in
their leaves and branches we feel the good purpose to which they live
and, unconsciously, perhaps, we love them.
Among us it is quite the same. Some are more skilful than others. But
be our skill great or small, we are not truly using it until we have
devoted it to a worthy purpose. And as with us, so it is with the
musicians. There are the great and small. The great ones--leaders of
thought--we call the great masters. The lesser are earnest men, who
have not as much power as the masters, but they are faithful in small
things.
They sing lesser songs it is true, but not less beautiful ones. Often
these lesser ones think more as we do. They think simply and about the
things which we have often in our minds. It is such thoughts as these
which we have in our best moments that we love so much when we see
them well expressed by one who is a good and delicate writer, either
of tones or words.
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