The Beaux Arts Trio, founded in 1955, gave its final New York concert on Sunday night. The venue was the Metropolitan Museum of Art, long the home of this trio. The audience was capacity, spilling over onto the stage. It would be a pleasure to report that the trio gave a good concert — and, lo, they did. Indeed, it was a concert touched with greatness.

The trio was originally composed of Menahem Pressler, pianist; Daniel Giulet, violinist, and Bernard Greenhouse, cellist. Since then, they have had several changes, particularly in the violinist’s chair. (Five people have sat in it.) Since 2002, the violinist has been Daniel Hope, and, since 1998, the cellist has been Antonio Meneses. The pianist has forever remained the same: Mr. Pressler, born in 1923.

He has a deep, evident, and touching love of music. Don’t they all? Don’t all professional musicians? Not really. I once heard Mr. Pressler talk about the wonder of music, the amazing, infinite things represented by little black dots on a page. It was one of the most moving statements I have ever heard about music.

But Mr. Pressler’s love of music is most clearly manifested in his playing. A colleague of his, Jerome Rose, said to him, “Menahem, you so love playing, you shouldn’t charge others to hear you. You should pay them to listen to you.” And what did the Beaux Arts Trio choose to play for its final New York concert? This question of a valedictory program is tricky, and fun. A month and a half ago, the Alban Berg Quartet, from Vienna, played its final New York concert. It chose splendidly: the quartet by Berg, of course (a must). And a late, great quartet of Haydn, father of the string quartet. And a late work of Beethoven.

Perfect.

And the Beaux Arts? I myself would have done a Beethoven trio, a Schubert (the B-flat), and a Brahms (the B-major). But the Beaux Arts Trio — probably Mr. Pressler — thought differently: They played both piano trios that Schubert wrote. In between was a brief piece — one of those micro jobs — by György Kurtág, a friend of Mr. Pressler’s.

I’m not so sure about programming Schubert’s Trio No. 2 in E flat after the Trio No. 1 in B flat. In my view, the later work — the E-flat trio — is far inferior. That said, it is still a masterpiece (a mark of how good the Trio No. 1 is). Besides, Mr. Pressler seems really to love his Schubert, and who can blame him?

For years, the same words have been applied to his playing: tasteful, elegant, Old World, aristocratic, shapely. All true. Mr. Pressler is a purveyor of perfect proportions. He seems almost incapable of a wrong accent. There is never anything vulgar, coarse, or clumsy about his playing.

And on Sunday night, he played very well. I can say that I have never heard him play better. And I can say that without hyperbole or a trace of wishful thinking. He is the definition of spry (as I keep noting, year after year). He moves on and off the stage with alacrity. And the wisdom — the wisdom combined with pleasure — in his playing is considerable.

In a recent review of Andrius Zlabys, the young Lithuanian-born pianist, I commented that age and experience are often overrated. True. But they don’t count for nothing, when the individual takes advantage of them.

Messrs. Hope and Meneses were in good form, too. Mr. Meneses, in particular, did some admirable singing in the Schubert pieces. One could make a few objections, about the Schubert playing at large. For example, I regarded a couple of the ritards in the first movement of the B-flat trio as outlandish. And, now and then, the threesome’s playing was too meek, bordering on mousy. There is a difference, of course, between autumnal and wan.

But mainly this music was handled in masterly, appreciative, and exemplary fashion. The slow movement of the Trio No. 1 was positively divine.

Before the Kurtág piece, Mr. Pressler spoke to the audience a bit — special pleading, of the type new music so often receives. But he was charming and wise in his special pleading, so it was hard to fault him.

At the end of the evening, the players gave us three encores — they were not content with a Schubertiade (with a pinch of Kurtág). They played a movement of Shostakovich, a movement of Haydn, and a movement of Dvorák (the “Dumka”). Before the Haydn, Mr. Pressler claimed to the audience that Haydn is underrated. This claim has been made, by one and all, for the whole of my lifetime. If every human being on the planet believes that Haydn is underrated — is he underrated?

In any case, the trio played its encores superbly. Mr. Pressler sparkled in the Haydn. And everyone was deft and enchanting in the Dvorák. Simply put, this was great trio playing.

And, indeed, the Beaux Arts is one of the great chamber ensembles in history. Like everything human, chamber ensembles expire. But the music Menahem Pressler so loves lives forever. And the Beaux Arts Trio, for more than a half-century, has served it well.