CHAPTER I MY FATHER AND I CALL ON CAPTAIN WHIDDEN My father's study, as I entered it on an April morning in 1809, to learn his decision regarding a matter that was to determine the course of all my life, was dim and spacious and far removed from the bustle and clamor of the harbor-side. It was a large room paneled with dark wood. There were books along the walls, and paintings of ships, and over... more...

MUSKRAT CITY The Irish cook one day proposed to the ship's captain the following conundrum: "Is anny thin' lost whin yeez know where 'tis?" The Captain assured him that in such case the thing was not lost. And Dennis responded: "Well, thin, shure, the ta-kettle is safe, for 'tis in the bottom av the ocean." Bige and I thought we were lost. We did not know the way to... more...

MUSLIN I The convent was situated on a hilltop, and through the green garden the white dresses of the schoolgirls fluttered like the snowy plumage of a hundred doves. Obeying a sudden impulse, a flock of little ones would race through a deluge of leaf-entangled rays towards a pet companion standing at the end of a gravel-walk examining the flower she has just picked, the sunlight glancing along her... more...

MY DOG TRAY.Twice every week a poor, thin man,Holding his little daughter’s hand,Walked feebly to a hospital,Close by the busy London Strand.He hoped the clever doctors thereIn time would make him strong and well,That he might go to work again,And live to care for little Nell.Beside wee Nell, her faithful friend,Good old dog Tray was always seen,Never a day apart the pairSince Nelly’s babyhood had... more...

It is perhaps fitting that the series of volumes comprising The Musician's Bookshelf should be inaugurated by the present collection of essays. To the majority of English readers the name of that strange and forceful personality, Romain Rolland, is known only through his magnificent, intimate record of an artist's life and aspirations, embracing ten volumes, Jean-Christophe. This is not the... more...

At intervals of a few years the torpor of London Society is stirred by the carefully disseminated intelligence that a new planet has begun to twinkle in the firmament of fashion, and the telescopes of all those who are in search of novelty are immediately directed to the spot. Partially dropping metaphor, it may be stated that a hitherto unknown lady emerges, like the planet, from a cloud under which,... more...

"PLACE AUX DAMES!" [Following the brilliant success of Miss Fawcett at Cambridge, Mlle. Belcesco, a Roumanian lady, took her degree to-day as Docteur en Droit. Like Miss Fawcett, she obtained the highest place at the examination for the Licentiate's Degree, and her success was not less brilliant at the examination for the Doctor's Degree.—"Daily News" Paris Correspondent.]... more...

Wagner Wagner's music, more than any other, is the sign and symbol of the nineteenth century. The men to whom it was disclosed, and who first sought to refuse, and then accepted it, passionately, without reservations, found in it their truth. It came to their ears as the sound of their own voices. It was the common, the universal tongue. Not alone on Germany, not alone on Europe, but on every... more...

CHILDHOOD My mother was fond of travelling: she would go from Spain to England, from London to Paris, from Paris to Berlin, and from there to Christiania; then she would come back, embrace me, and set out again for Holland, her native country. She used to send my nurse clothing for herself and cakes for me. To one of my aunts she would write: "Look after little Sarah; I shall return in a... more...

THEINTRODUCTION. I AM very much concerned when I see young gentlemen of fortune and quality so wholly set upon pleasure and diversions, that they neglect all those improvements in wisdom and knowledge which may make them easy to themselves and useful to the world.  The greatest part of our British youth lose their figure, and grow out of fashion, by that time they are five and twenty.  As soon as the... more...