Another personality that I desired to analyse, and perhaps the greatest, was Richard Wagner. The Leipzig youth, who hated the tawdry tinsel of the theatre, and was so little of a musical prodigy that he could never learn to play the piano, impelled by a strange instinct has yet wrought music and the stage to a poetic height never before approached. Just as our arts rise out of our industries, so the manifold art of Wagner--woven of music and poetry and drama--rises to something that is beyond art. Wagner has made the largest impersonal synthesis yet attainable of the personal influences that thrill our lives, and has built it on the broadest physiological basis of our senses, so that faith has here become sight. Such harmony is what we are accustomed to call Heaven, and such art--to the mere musician cacophony and confusion--is truly called religion. It will take some time yet before we understand its place in life as a new expression of the human soul. Generations must pass before it will be possible for a greater artist, by a still wider sensory appeal, to lift us to any higher Heaven. It is not the men of one idea--important as these are--who most truly represent the spirit of an age. Such men most often represent the spirit of some earlier generation, which in them has become definitely crystallised. It is the men whose ideas are still free in pungent, penetrating, often confused solution that we may count nearest to the natural forces of an age, and it is these that are most interesting to analyse. In such men the feebler instincts of their fellows are concentrated, and the flaming energy of their spirits attracts few, repels most, of their fellows. It is, no doubt, because of this high degree of emotional exaltation that these men bring us to religion. It all comes to religion. I would point out to those who think that this result needs apology, that such men do not bring before us the pale, animistic children of dreams, who for so many ages have sought with their shadowy arms to beckon men away from the world to a home on the other side of the sky, but the robust children of our working life, the offspring of our living energies and emotions, the harmonised satisfaction of all that we have lived, of all that we have felt.