The period of sensationalism and experiment in music seems to be passing; of the giants of a period which was richer in technical research than in musical achievement it is the mature Bartók and the thoughtful Hindemith who alone seem to have sufficient vitality to interest a more balanced generation; and it is even possible in the most sophisticated circles to mention British composers without making a shamefaced apology. Indeed, the gap between popular and sophisticated opinion seems to be narrowing: Peter Grimes was a popular success; A Child of Our Time aroused widespread enthusiasm; and the concertos of even the redoubtable Bartók filled the Albert Hall. All this is a sign of a new and healthier orthodoxy. But one fundamental heresy is still widespread; it is the tendency to judge music not for what it is but for what it portends; to regard works exclusively in terms of their potential significance instead of in terms of their achievement; to make (as someone put it) “the best the enemy of the good.”