But let me not stay too long in this Sicilian valley,
gathering my flowers, for "night cometh."'
* * * * *
'The other evening, while hearing the Creation, in the music
of "There shoots the healing plant," I felt what I would ever
feel for suffering souls. Somewhere in nature is the Moly, the
Nepenthe, desired from the earliest ages of mankind. No wonder
the music dwelt so exultingly on the passage:--
"In native worth and honor clad."
Yes; even so would I ever see man. I will wait, and never
despair, through all the dull years.'
* * * * *
'I am "too fiery." Even so. Ceres put her foster child in the
fire because she loved him. If they thought so before, will
they not far more now? Yet I wish to be seen as I am, and
would lose all rather than soften away anything. Let my
friends be patient and gentle, and teach me to be so. I never
promised any one patience or gentleness, for those beautiful
traits are not natural to me; but I would learn them. Can I
not?'
* * * * *
'Of all the books, and men, and women, that have touched me
these weeks past, what has most entered my soul is the music
I have heard,--the masterly expression from that violin; the
triumph of the orchestra, after the exploits on the piano;
Braham, in his best efforts, when he kept true to the dignity
of art; the Messiah, which has been given on two successive
Sundays, and the last time in a way that deeply expressed its
divine life; but above all, Beethoven's seventh symphony.
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