another uses its methods, so that the methods may afterwards be
applied to the borrower's art from the beginning, and suitably.
The artist must not forget that in him lies the power of true
application of every method, but that that power must be
developed.

In manipulation of form music can achieve results which are
beyond the reach of painting. On the other hand, painting is
ahead of music in several particulars. Music, for example, has at
its disposal duration of time; while painting can present to the
spectator the whole content of its message at one moment.
[Footnote: These statements of difference are, of course,
relative; for music can on occasions dispense with extension of
time, and painting make use of it.] Music, which is outwardly
unfettered by nature, needs no definite form for its expression.

[Footnote: How miserably music fails when attempting to express
material appearances is proved by the affected absurdity of
programme music. Quite lately such experiments have been made.
The imitation in sound of croaking frogs, of farmyard noises, of
household duties, makes an excellent music hall turn and is
amusing enough. But in serious music such attempts are merely
warnings against any imitation of nature. Nature has her own
language, and a powerful one; this language cannot be imitated.
The sound of a farmyard in music is never successfully
reproduced, and is unnecessary waste of time. The Stimmung of
nature can be imparted by every art, not, however, by imitation,
but by the artistic divination of its inner spirit.]

Painting today is almost exclusively concerned with the