Schubert’s late works are still the works of a young man. His last works are those of a 31-year-old.

It is sometimes hard to remember all that, no more so than when one encounters profound works like the last piano sonata, D. 969 in B-flat Major, or the Cello Quintet in C Major, D. 956.

The latter piece was the one the Takacs Quartet chose Friday to see out its multi-concert survey of Schubert’s mature quartets, quintets and solo piano music, conducted over the course of the season at Rackham Auditorium under University Musical Society auspices.

Sunshine and shadow are always a presence in Schubert’s music, early or late. Darkness gets its due, albeit not for long, amidst the cheer of an early piece like the “Trout Quintet,”which opened Friday’s program, with pianist Jeffrey Kahane at the keyboard and John Feeney on bass. But the shadows grow far longer in the Cello Quintet, for which the distinguished cellist Paul Katz joined the members of the Takacs: Edward Dusinberre and Karoly Schranz, violin; Geraldine Walther, viola; and Andras Fejer, cello.

There was lots to like in Friday’s performance of the amiable “Trout.” There were a few moments when the intonation seemed a tad fishy, and a few times it seemed like the élan of the performance might just swim away with the players. But that élan was one of the performance’s virtues. And Kahane, who was to have appeared here earlier in the series, to play the B-flat sonata — he had to drop out because of illness — was largely responsible for it. He played with wonderful, bubbling clarity — his light pedaling was immensely welcome — and great rhythmic drive. Everyone was “on” in the Beethovian scherzo, accents jumping brightly, and everyone had his or her turn at the fun of the Theme and Variations movement.

Good as all this was, the evening belonged to the Cello Quintet. Schubert’s penumbral musings on mortality and life’s meaning are so achingly beautiful here — as they are, also, in that last piano sonata. When the playing is as true to his musical embodiment of those musings as it was on Friday, it is both sublime and moving. This was intimate playing — the carefully constructed opening and closing chords of the first movement; the gorgeous cello duet reiterated with inmost feeling; the quiet questions and answers of the Adagio, proposed against the very human heartbeat of a cello pizzicato. Again, as in the final piano sonata, the finale is a dance movement that is music of consolation and acceptance.

The performance got a universal standing ovation. There were no encores, and none were needed.