* * * * *

Ashtabula: The place of a man's birth does not honor him until after he is dead, and every man of genius has been distrusted by his intimate kinsmen. If he is granted recognition by the outside world, those who have known him from childhood wink slyly and repeat Phineas T. Barnum's aphorism, a free paraphrase of which the Germans have used since the days of the Vandals.

Leopold Mozart returned home with his wonderful boy not much richer than when he went away. He had left the management of finances to others, and was quite content to travel in a special carriage, stop at the best hotels, and have any "label" he might order, just for the asking.

Reports had reached Germany of the wonderful success of the youthful Mozart in Italy, but Vienna smiled and Salzburg sneezed.

* * * * *

North East: It is not so very long ago that all the beautiful things of earth were supposed to belong to the Superior Class. That is to say, all the toilers, all the workers in metals, all the bookmakers, authors, poets, painters, sculptors and musicians, did their work to please this noble or that. All bands of singers were singers to His Lordship, and if a man wrote a book he dedicated it to His Royal Highness. At first these thinkers and doers were veritable slaves, and no court was complete that did not have its wise man who wore the cap and bells, and made puns, epigrams and quoted wise saws and modern instances for his board and keep. This man usually served as a clerk or overseer, during his odd hours, and only appeared to give a taste of his quality when he was sent for.

It was the same with the musicians and singers—they were cooks, waiters and valets, and when there were guests these performers were notified to be in readiness to "do something" if called upon. It was the same with painters—every court had its own. Rubens, as we know, was looked upon by the Duke of Mantua as his private property, and the artist had to run away, when the time was ripe, to save his soul alive. Van Dyck was court painter to Charles the First, and married when he was told to do so.

There is no such office as "Poet Laureate of England"—the Laureate is poet to the King, and used to dine with the Master of the Hounds. Later he was allowed to choose his domicile and live in his own house, like Saint Paul, the prisoner at Rome. His yearly stipend is yet that tierce of Canary.

* * * * *

Silver Creek: Leopold Mozart, and the son who caused his name to endure, were in the employ of the Archbishop of Salzburg. The Archbishop was a veritable prince, with short breath and a double chin, and no shade of doubt ever came to him concerning the divinity of his succession. He ruled by divine right, and everybody and everything were made to minister to the well-being of his person and estate. The Mozarts were too poor to escape from the employ of the Archbishop, and he took pains to warn all interested persons not to harbor, encourage or entice his servants away on penalty of dire displeasure. Mozart ate with the servants, and we have his letters written to his sister showing how his seat was next below that of the coachman. When he was to play before invited guests he was made to wait in the entry until the footman called him, and there he often stood for hours, first on one foot, then on t' other.

It is easy to ask why a man of such sublime talent should endure such treatment, but the simple fact is Mozart was gentle, yielding, kind—immersed in his music—with no power to set his will against the tide of tendency that 'compassed him round. The Archbishop forbade his playing at concerts or entertainments, and blocked the way to all advancement. The Archbishop didn't have a diplomat like Rubens to cope with, or a fighter like Wagner, or a plotter like Liszt, or a stiletto-bearing man like Paganini, and so Mozart wrote his music on a table in one corner of a beer-garden, and waltzed with his wife, Constance, to keep warm when there was no fire and the weather was cold, and all the time danced attendance on the Archbishop of Salzburg. All of his feeble, spasmodic efforts at freedom came to naught, because there was no persistency behind them.

Gladly would he have sold his services for three hundred gulden a year, but even this sum, equal to one hundred fifty dollars a year, was denied him. He was always composing, always making plans, always seeing the silver tint in the clouds, but all of his music was taken by this one or that in whom he foolishly trusted, and only debt and humiliation followed him.

When at long intervals a sum would come his way from a generous admirer touched with pity, all the beggars in the neighborhood seemed to know it at once. Then it was that music filled the air at the beer-garden, carking care and unkind fate were for the time forgot, and all went merry as a wedding-bell.

Finally the position of Court Musician to the Emperor of Austria fell vacant, and certain good friends of Mozart secured him the place. But the Emperor was not like Frederick the Great, for he could not distinguish one tune from another, and did not consider it any special virtue so to do. The result was that his musicians were looked after by his valet, and Mozart found that his position was really no better than it had been with the Archbishop of Salzburg.

And still his mind proved infirm of purpose, and he had not the courage to demand his right, for fear he might lose even the little that he had.

* * * * *

Buffalo: Mozart was in his twentieth year when he met Aloysia Weber. She was a gifted singer, surely, and was needlessly healthy. She was of that peculiar, heartless type that finds digression in leading men a merry chase and then flaunting and flouting them. Young Mozart, the impressionable, Mozart the delicate and sensitive, Mozart the AEolian harp, played upon by every passing breeze, loved this bouncing bundle of pink-and-white tyranny.

She encouraged the passion, and it gradually grew until it absorbed the boy and he grew oblivious to all else. He lived in her smile, bathed in the sunshine of her presence, fed on her words, and as for her singing in opera it was not so much what her voice was now but what he was sure it would be.

His glowing imagination made good her every deficiency. He thought he loved the girl. It was not the girl at all he loved: he only loved the ideal that existed in his own heart. His father opposed the mating and hastily transferred the youth from Vienna to Paris; but who ever heard of opposition and argument and forced separation curing love? So matters ran on and letters and messages passed, and finally Mozart made his way back to Vienna and with breathless haste sought out the object of his whole heart's love.

She had recently met a man she liked better, and as she could not hold them both, treated Mozart as a stranger, and froze him to the marrow.

He was crushed, undone, and a fit of sickness followed. In his illness, Constance, a younger sister of Aloysia, came to him in pity and nursed him as a child. Very naturally, all the love he had felt for Aloysia was easily and readily transferred to Constance. The tendrils of the heart ruthlessly uprooted cling to the first object that presents itself.

And so Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Constance Weber were married. And they were happy ever afterward. It would have been much better if they had quarreled, but Mozart's gentle, yielding character readily adapted itself to the weaker nature of his wife. In his music she took a sort of blind and deaf delight and guessed its greatness because she loved the man. But when two weak wills combine, the net result is increased weakness—never strength.

Constance was as beautiful a specimen of the slipshod housekeeper as ever piled away breakfast dishes unwashed, or swept dirt under a settee. If they had money she bought things they did not need, and if there was no money she borrowed provisions and forgot to return the loan. Irregularity of living, deprivation and hope deferred, made the woman ill and she became a chronic sufferer. But she was ever tended with loving, patient care by the overburdened and underfed husband.

A biographer tells how Mozart would often arise early in the morning to set down some melody in music that he had dreamed out during the night. On such occasions he would leave a little love-letter for his wife on the stand at the head of the bed, where she would find it on first awakening. One such note, freely translated, runs as follows: "Good-morning, Dear Little Wife. I hope you rested well and had sweet dreams. You were sleeping so peacefully that I dare not kiss your cheek for fear of disturbing you. It is a beautiful morning and a bird outside is singing a song that is in my heart. I am going out to catch the strain and write it down as my own and yours. I shall be back in an hour."

* * * * *

East Aurora: Aloysia married the man of her choice—an actor by the name of Lange. They quarreled right shortly, and soon he used to beat her. This was endured for a year or more, then she left him. For a while she lived with Wolfgang and Constance, and Mozart, true to his nature, gave her from his own scanty store and deprived himself for her benefit. He stood godfather to one of her children and was a true friend to her to the last.

After Aloysia lived to be an old woman, and long after Mozart had passed out, and the world had begun to utter his praises, she said: "I never for a moment thought he was a genius—I always considered him just a nice little man."

Mozart's soul was filled with melody, and all of his music is faultless and complete. He possessed the artistic conscience to a degree that is unique. Careless and heedless in all else, if his mood was not right and the product was halting, he straightway destroyed the score. He was always at work, always hearing sweet sounds, always weighing and balancing them in the delicate scales of his judgment.

So absorbed was he in his art that he fell an easy victim to the designing, and never stopped his work long enough to strike off the shackles that bound him to a vain, selfish and unappreciative court.

Worn by constant work, worried by his wife's continued illness, dogged by creditors, and unable to get justice from those who owed it to him, his nerves at the early age of thirty-five gave way.

His vitality rapidly declined and at last went out as a candle does when blown upon by a sudden gust from an open door.

It was a blustering winter day in December, Seventeen Hundred Ninety-one, when his burial occurred. A little company of friends assembled, but no funeral-dirge was played for him, save the blast blown through the naked branches of the trees, as they hurried the plain pine coffin to its final resting-place. At the gate of the cemetery the few friends turned back and left the lifeless clay to the old gravedigger, who never guessed the honor thus done him.

It was a pauper's grave that closed over the body of Mozart—coffin piled on coffin, and no one marked the spot. All we know is, that somewhere in Saint Mark's Cemetery, Vienna, was buried in a trench the most accomplished composer and performer the world has ever known. It was a hundred years afterward before the city made tardy amends by erecting a fitting monument to his memory.

His best monument is his work. The melody that once filled his soul is yours and mine; for by his art he made us heirs to all that wealth of love that was never requited, and the dreams, that for him never came true, are our precious and priceless legacy.



JOHANNES BRAHMS

What is music? This question occupied my mind for hours last night before I fell asleep. The very existence of music is wonderful, I might even say miraculous. Its domain is between thought and phenomena. Like a twilight mediator, it hovers between spirit and matter, related to both, yet differing from each. It is spirit, but spirit subject to the measurement of time; it is matter, but matter that can dispense with space.

—Heine

JOHANNES BRAHMS

Emerson has said that, next to the man who first voices a great truth, is the one who quotes it.

Truth is in the air; it belongs to all who can appreciate it; and the difference between the man who gives a truth expression and the listener who at once comprehends and repeats it, is very slight. If you understand what I say, it is because you have thought the same thoughts yourself—I merely express for you that which you already know. And so you approve and applaud, not stopping to think that you are applauding your own thought; and your heart beats fast and you say, "Yes, yes, why didn't I say that myself!"

All conversation is a sort of communion—an echoing back and forth of thoughts, feelings and emotions. We clarify our thoughts by expressing them—no idea is quite your own until you tell it to another.

Music is simply one form of expression. Its province is to impart a sublime emotion. To give himself is the controlling impulse in the heart of every artist—to impart to others the joy he feels—this is the dominant motive in his life.

Hence the poet writes, the artist paints, the sculptor models, the singer sings, the musician plays—all is expression—a giving voice to the Silence. But it is all done for others. In ministering to others the artist ministers to himself. In helping others we help ourselves. We grow strong through exercise, and only the faculties that are exercised—that is to say, expressed—become strong. Those not in use atrophy and fall victims to arrested development.

Man is the instrument of Deity—through man does Deity create. And the artist is one who expresses for others their best thoughts and feelings. He may arouse in men emotions that were dormant, and so were unguessed; but under the spell of the artist-spirit, these dormant faculties are awakened from lethargy—they are exercised, and once the thrill of life is felt through them, they will probably be exercised again and again.

All art is collaboration between the performer and the partaker—music is especially a collaboration. It is a oneness of feeling: action and reaction, an intermittent current of emotion that plays backward and forward between the player and his audience. The player is the positive pole, or masculine principle; and the audience the negative pole, or feminine principle.

In great oratory the same transposition takes place. Almost every one can recall occasions when there was an absolute fusion of thought, feeling and emotion between the speaker and the audience—when one mind dominated all, and every heart beat in unison with his. The great musician is the one who feels intensely, and is able to express vividly, and thus impart his emotion to others.

Robert Schumann was such a man. In his youth, when he played at parlor gatherings he could fuse the listeners into an absolute oneness of spirit. You can not make others feel unless you yourself feel; you can not make others see unless you yourself see. Robert Schumann saw. He beheld the moving pictures, and as they passed before him he expressed what he saw in harmonious sounds. His many admirers say he gave "portraits" on the piano, and by sounds would describe certain persons, so others who knew these persons would recognize them and call their names.

Sterndale Bennett has told of Schumann's playing Weber's "Invitation to the Dance," and accompanying it with little verbal explanations of what he saw, thus: "There," said the player as he struck the opening chords, "there, he bows, and so does she—he speaks—she speaks, and oh! what a voice—how liquid! listen—hear the rustle of her gown—he speaks, a little deeper, you notice—you can not hear the words, only their voices blending in with the music—now they speak together—they are lovers, surely—see, they understand—oh! the waltz—see them take those first steps—they are swaying into time—away!—there they go—look!—you can not hear their voices now—only see them!"

Schumann studied law, and had he followed that profession he would have made a master before a jury. He saw so clearly and felt so deeply, and was so full of generosity and bubbling good-cheer, that he was irresistible. As we know, he proved so to Clara Wieck, who left father and mother and home to cleave to this unknown composer.

This splendid young woman was nine years younger than Robert, but she had already made a name and fortune for herself before they were married.

In passing it is well enough to call attention to the fact that this is one of the great loves of history. It ranks with the mating of Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett. How strange that such things are so exceptional that the world takes note of them!

Yet for quite a number of years after their marriage, Madame Schumann was at times asked this question: "Is your husband musical?"

But Robert Schumann, like Robert Browning, was too big a man to be jealous of his wife. Jealousy is an acknowledgment of weakness and insecurity. "Robert and Clara," their many dear friends always called them. They worked together—composed, sang, played, and grew great together. And as if to refute the carping critics who cry that domesticity and genius are incompatible, Clara Schumann became the happy mother of eight children, and not a year passed but she appeared upon the concert stage, while a nurse held the baby in the wings. Schumann was very proud of his wife. He was grateful to her for interpreting his songs in a way he could not. His lavish heart went out to every one who expressed the happiness and harmony which he felt singing in his soul.

And so he welcomed all players and all singers, and all who felt the influence of an upward gravitation. Especially was he a friend of the young and the unknown. His home at Dusseldorf was a Mecca for the aspiring—worthy and unworthy—and to these he gave his time, money and influence. "Genius must have recognition—we will discover and bring forth these beautiful souls; we will liberate and give them to the world," he used to say. Not only did he himself express great things, but he quoted others.

Among those who had reverenced the Schumanns from afar, came a young man of twenty, small and fair-haired, from Hamburg. He was received at the regular "Thursday Night" with various other strangers. These meetings were quite informal, and everybody was asked to play or sing. On being invited to play, our young man declined. But on a second visit he sat down at the piano and played. It was several minutes before the company ceased the little buzz of conversation and listened—the fledglings were never taken seriously except by the host and hostess. The youth leaned over the keyboard, and seemed to gather confidence from the sympathetic attitude of the listeners, and especially Clara Schumann, who had come forward and stood at his elbow.

He played from Schumann's "Carnival," and as he played, freedom came to him. He surprised himself. When he ceased playing, Robert kissed his cheek, and the company were vehement in their applause. Next day Schumann met Albert Dietrich, another disciple who had come from a distance to bask in the Schumann sunshine, and said with an air of mystery: "One has come of whom we shall yet hear great things. His name is Johannes Brahms."

* * * * *

We have at least four separate accounts of Brahms' first appearance and behavior when he arrived at the city of Dusseldorf. These descriptions are by Robert and Clara Schumann, Doctor Dieters and Albert Dietrich. All agree that Johannes Brahms was a most fascinating personality. Dieters and Dietrich were about the age of Brahms, and were lesser satellites swinging just outside the Schumann orbit. Very naturally when a new devotee appeared, they gazed at him askance. Many visitors were coming and going, and from most of them there was nothing to fear, but when this short, deep-chested boy with flaxen hair appeared, Dietrich felt there was danger of losing his place at the right hand of the Master.

Brahms carried his chin in, and the crown of his head high. He was infinitely good-natured, met everybody on an equality, without abasement or condescension. He was modest, never pushed himself to the front, and was always ready to listen. A talented performer who can listen well, is sure to be loved. And yet when Brahms went forward to play, there was just a suggestion of indifference to his hearers in his manner, and a half-haughty self-confidence that won before he had sounded a note. We always believe in people who believe in themselves.

Young Brahms brought a letter of introduction from Joachim. But that was nothing—Joachim was always giving letters to everybody. He was like the men who sign every petition that is presented; or those other good men who give certificates of character to people they do not know, and recommendation letters to those for whom they have no use.

So the letter went for little with Robert Schumann—it was the way Brahms approached the piano, and settled his hands and great shock-head over the keyboard, that won.

"He is no beginner," whispered Clara to Robert before Johannes had touched a key.

It didn't take Brahms long to get acquainted—he mixed well. In a few days he dropped into that half-affectionate way of calling his host and hostess by their first names, and they in turn called him "Johannes." And to me this is very beautiful, for, at the last, souls are all of one age. More and more we are realizing that getting old is only a bad habit. The only man who is old is the one who thinks he is. Of course these remarks about age do not exactly apply just here, for no member of the trinity we are discussing was advanced in years. Robert was forty-three, Clara was thirty-four, and Johannes was twenty.

Johannes Brahms was thrice well blest in being well born. His parents were middle-class people, fairly well-to-do. They proved themselves certainly more than middle-class in intellect, when they adopted the plan of being the companions and comrades of their children. Johannes grew up with no slavish fear of "old folks." He had worked with his father, studied with him; learned lessons from books with his mother, and played "four hands" with her at the piano, by the hour, just for fun.

Then when Remenyi came that way with his violin, and wanted a pianist, he took young Brahms. When their lines crossed the line of Liszt, they played for him at his inn; and then Liszt played for them.

This Remenyi was our own "Ol' Man Remenyi," who passed over only a year or so ago. I wonder if he was Ol' Man Remenyi then! He never really was an old man, and that appellation was more a mark of esteem than anything else—a sort of diminutive of good-will. I met Remenyi at Chautauqua, where he spent a month or more in Eighteen Hundred Ninety-three. He gave me my first introduction to the music of Brahms, of whom he never tired of talking. He considered Brahms without a rival—the culminating flower of modern music; and if the Ol' Man slightly exaggerated his own influence in bringing Brahms out and presenting him to the world, I am not the one to charge it up against his memory.

In explaining Brahms and his music, Remenyi used to grow animated, and when words failed he would say, "Here, it was just like this"—and then he would seize his violin, the bow would wave through the air, and the notes would tell you how Brahms transposed Beethoven's "Kreutzer Sonata" from A to B flat—a feat he never could have performed if Remenyi had not told him how. It was Remenyi who introduced Brahms to Joachim, and it was Joachim who introduced Brahms to Schumann, and it was Schumann's article, "New Paths," in the "Neue Zeitschrift fur Musik," that placed Brahms on a pedestal before the world. Brahms was not the great man that Schumann painted, Remenyi thought, but the idealization caused him to put forth a heroic effort to be what Clara and Robert considered him. So it was really these two who compelled him to push on: otherwise he might have relaxed into a mere concert performer or a leader of some subsidized band.

Remenyi always seemed to me like a choice antique mosaic, a trifle weather-worn, set into the present. He used to quote Liszt as if he lived around the corner, and would criticize Wagner, and tell of Moescheles, Haertel, the Mendelssohns and the Schumanns, as if they might all gather tomorrow and play for us at the Hall in the Grove.

Recently I met dear old Herr Kappes, eighty years young, who knew the Mendelssohns, and admired Brahms, loved Clara Schumann, and liked Remenyi—sometimes. They were too much alike, I fear, to like each other all the time. But the harmony is still in the heart of Herr Kappes. He gives music-lessons, and lectures, and will explain to you just how and where Brahms differs from Schumann, and where Schubert separates from both.

Herr Kappes can speak five languages, but even with them all he finds difficulty in making his meaning clear, and at times adopts the Remenyi plan, and will just turn to the piano and cry, "It's like this, see! Schumann wrote it in this way"—and then the strong hands will chase the keys down and back and over and up. "But Brahms took the motif and set it like this"—and Herr Kappes will strike the bass a thunderous stroke—pause, look at you, glide back and down, up and over, and you are carried away in a swirl of sweet sounds, and see a pink face framed in its beautiful aureole of white hair. You listen but you do not "see" the fine distinctions, because you do not care—Herr Kappes is all there is of it, so animated, so gentle, so true, so lovable—because he used to pay court to Fanny Mendelssohn and then transferred his affections to Clara Schumann, and now just loves his art, and everybody.

* * * * *

Schumann's article, "New Paths," at once determined Brahms' career. He must either live up to the mark that had been set for him—or else run away.

I give below an extract from Robert's estimate of Brahms and his work:

Ten years have passed away, as many as I formerly devoted to the publication of this paper—since I have allowed myself to commit my opinions to this soil so rich in memories. Often in spite of an overstrained productive activity, I have felt moved to do so; many new and remarkable talents have made their appearance, and a fresh musical power seemed about to reveal itself among the many aspiring artists of the day, even if their compositions were only known to the few.

I thought to follow with interest the pathways of these elect; there would—there must—after such a promise, suddenly appear one who should utter the highest ideal expression of the times, who should claim the mastership by no gradual development, but burst upon us fully equipped, as Minerva sprang from the brain of Jupiter. And he has come, this chosen youth, over whose cradle the Graces and Heroes seem to have kept watch.

His name is Johannes Brahms; he comes from Hamburg, where he has been working in quiet obscurity, instructed by an excellent, enthusiastic teacher in the most difficult principles of his art, and lately introduced to me by an honored and well-known master. His mere outward appearance assures us that he is one of the elect.

Seated at the piano, he disclosed wondrous regions. We were drawn into an enchanted circle. Then came a moment of inspiration which transformed the piano into an orchestra of wailing and jubilant voices. There were sonatas, or rather veiled symphonies, songs whose poetry revealed itself without the aid of words, while throughout them all ran a vein of deep song-melody, several pieces of a half-demoniacal character, but of charming form; then sonatas for piano and violin, string quartets, and each of these creations so different from the last that they appeared to flow from so many different sources. Then, like an impetuous torrent, he seemed to unite these streams into a foaming waterfall; over the tossing waves the rainbow presently stretches its peaceful arch, while on the banks butterflies flit to and fro, and the nightingale warbles her song.

Whenever he bends his magic wand towards great works, and the powers of orchestra and chorus lend him their aid, still more wonderful glimpses of the ideal world will be revealed to us.

May the Highest Genius help him onward! Meanwhile another genius—that of modesty—seems to dwell within him. His comrades greet him at his first step in the world, where wounds may, perhaps, await him, but the bay and the laurel also; we welcome this valiant warrior!

Robert Schumann had been before the public as essayist, poet, pianist and composer for twenty years. He had given himself without stint to almost every musical enterprise of Germany, and his sympathy was ever on tap for every needy and aspiring genius. You may give your purse—he who takes it takes trash—but to give your life's blood and then hope for a renewal of life's lease, is vain.

The public man owes to himself and to his Maker the duty of reserve.

The desert and mountain are very necessary to the individual who gives himself to the public. That any man should so bestride the narrow world like a colossus that the multitude must stop to gaze, and thousands feed upon his words, is an abnormal condition. The only thing that can hold the balance true is solitude. Relaxation is the first requirement of strength. Watch the cat, the tiger or the lion asleep. See what complete absence of intensity—what perfect relaxation! It is all a preparation for the spring.

Schumann had not sought the mountain, nor abandoned himself to the woods in old shoes, corduroys and a flannel shirt. Now he was paying the penalty of publicity. Virtue had gone out of him; and in the article just quoted, there are signs that he is clutching for something. He hails this new star and proclaims him, because in some way he feels that the ruddy, valiant and youthful Brahms is to consummate his work. Brahms is an extension of himself. It is a part of that longing for immortality—we perpetuate ourselves in our children and look for them to accomplish what we have been unable to do.

Johannes Brahms was the spiritual son of Robert Schumann.

In less than a year after Brahms and Schumann first met, there were ominous signs and evil portents in the air. "Why do you play so fast, dear Johannes? I beg of you, be moderate!" cried Robert on one occasion. Brahms turned, and his quick glance caught the ashy face and bloodshot eyes of a sick man. His reply was a tear and a hand-grasp.

Soon, to Schumann, all music was going at a gallop, and in his ears forever rang the sound of A. He could hear naught else. Tenderness, patience, and even love were of no avail. Indeed, love is not exempt from penalty—the law of compensation never rests. Nature forever strives for a right adjustment.

The richness and intensity of Schumann's life were bought with a price. The first year after his marriage he composed one hundred thirty-eight songs. Sonatas, scherzos, symphonies and ballads followed fast, and in it all his gifted wife had gloried.

But when, in Eighteen Hundred Fifty-four, Robert had, after sleepless nights, in a fit of frenzy thrown himself into the Rhine, and had been rescued, shattered, unable to recognize even his nearest friends—the loyal and devoted wife saw where she herself had erred.

Writing to Brahms she says: "I encouraged him in his work, and this fired his ambition to do and to become. Oh! why did I not restrain that intensity and send him away into the solitude to be a boy; to do nothing but frolic and play and bathe in the sunshine, and eat and sleep? The life of an artist is death. Kill ambition, my Brother!"

Activity and rest—both are needed. The idea of the "retreat" in the Catholic Church is founded on stern, hygienic science. Wagner's forced exile was not without its advantages, and the "retreats" of Paganini and the "retirements" of Liszt were very useful factors in the devolution of their art.

* * * * *

For the malady that beset Robert Schumann, there was no cure save death; his only rest, the grave. When his spirit passed away in Eighteen Hundred Fifty-six, his devoted wife and the loyal Brahms attended him. Owing to the insidious creeping of the disease, Schumann's affairs had got into bad shape; and it was now left to Brahms, more than all others, to smooth the way of life for the stricken wife and her fatherless brood.

The versatility and sturdy commonsense of Brahms were now in evidence. In business affairs he was ready, decisive and systematic. And the delicacy, tact and charming good-nature he ever showed, reveal the man as a most extraordinary figure. Great talent is often bought at a price—how well we know this, especially with musicians! But Brahms was sane on all subjects. He could take care of his own affairs, lend a needed hand with others, but never meddle—smile with that half-sardonic grimace at all foolish little things, weep with the stricken when calamity came; yet above it all the little man towered, carrying himself like the giant that he was. And yet he never made the mistake of taking himself too seriously. "I am trying to run opposition to Michelangelo's 'Moses,'" he once called to Dietrich, as he leaned out of the window in the sunshine, and stroked his flowing beard. In his later years many have testified to this Jovelike quality that Brahms diffused by his presence. No one could come into his aura and fail to feel his sense of power. Around such souls is a sacred circle—if you are allowed to come within this boundary, it is only by sufferance; within this space only the pure in heart can dwell.

* * * * *

Tolstoy in "Anna Karenina" speaks of that quiet and constant light to be seen on the faces of those who are successful—those who know that their success is acknowledged by the world.

Brahms was a successful man by temperament, for success (like East Aurora) is a condition of mind. There is no tragedy for those who do not accept tragedy; and the treatment we receive from others is only our own reflected thought.

Brahms thought well of everybody, if he thought of any one at all. He reveled in the sunshine, and everywhere made friends of children. "We saw Brahms on the hotel veranda at Domodossola," wrote a young woman to me in Eighteen Hundred Ninety-five, "and what do you think?—he was on all fours, with three children on his back, riding him for a horse!"

For many years Brahms used to make an annual pilgrimage to Italy, and often on these tours at fairs he would fall in with Gipsy bands. At such times he would always stop and listen, and would lustily applaud the performance. On one such occasion, Dietrich tells, the leader recognized Brahms, and instantly rapped for silence. He was seen to pass the whispered word along, and then the band struck up one of Brahms' pieces, greatly to the delight of the composer.

He was a man of the people, and I am glad to know that he hated a table d'hote, smiled a smile of derision at all dress-coats, had small sympathy with pink teas, loved his friends, doted on babies, and was never so happy as when in the country walking along grass-grown lanes in the early summer morning, when the dew was on and the air was melodious with the song of birds. He had a habit of going bareheaded, carrying his hat in his hand; and on these country walks, always with bared head, he would sing or whistle, and unconsciously in his mind the music would be taking shape that was to be written out later in the quiet of his study.

Brahms knew the world—not simply one little part of it—he knew it as thoroughly as any man can, and was interested in it all. He knew the world of workers—the toilers and bearers of burdens. He knew the weak and the vicious, and his heart went out to them in sympathy; for he knew his own heart and realized the narrow margin that separates the so-called "good" from the alleged "bad." He knew that sin is only a wrong expression of life, and reacts to the terrible disadvantage of the sinner.

He was interested in mechanics—bookbinding, printing, iron-working, carpentry, and was well acquainted with all new inventions and labor-saving devices. He knew the methods of farming, the different breeds of cattle; he knew what soil would produce best a certain crop, and understood "rotation." He could call the wild birds by name and imitate their notes, and studied long their haunts and habits. That excellent man and talented, George Herschel, in a letter to a friend speaks of walking with Johannes Brahms along the highway, and Brahms suddenly calling in alarm, "Look out! look out! you may kill it!"

It was only a tumblebug, but he shrank from putting foot on any living thing. Brahms reverenced all life, and felt in his heart that he was brother to that bug in the dust, to the birds that chirruped in the hedgerows, and to the trees that lifted their outstretching branches to the sun.

He was deeply religious—although he never knew it. All music is a hymn of praise, a song of thanksgiving, a chant of faith. Music is a making manifest to our dull ears the divine harmony of the universe, and thus all music is sacred music, and all true musicians are priests, for by their ministrations we are made to realize our Oneness with the Whole. Through music we read the Universal.

Music is the only one of the arts that can not be prostituted to a base use. We hear of bad books, of the "Index Expurgatorius," and in every State there are laws against the publication of immoral books and indecent pictures. We also hear of orders issued by the courts requiring certain statues to be removed or veiled, but no indictment can be brought against music. It is the only one of the arts that is always pure.

Brahms realized this and felt the dignity of his office, holding high the standard; and yet he knew that the toilers in the fields were doing a service to humanity, just as necessary as his own. And possibly this is why he uncovered, walking with bared head. All is holy, all is good—it is all God's world, and all the men and women in it are His children.

* * * * *

For forty-two years Brahms was the devoted friend of Clara Schumann. She was thirteen years his senior, yet their spirits were as children together. From the first he was to her, "Johannes," and she was "Clara" to him. A few of their letters have been published in the "Revue des deux Mondes," and this woman, who was a great-grandmother, and had sixty years before captured a world, then in her seventy-fifth year, wrote to her "Dear Johannes" with all the gentle fervor of a girl of twenty, congratulating him on some recent success. In reply he writes back to his "Dear Clara" in gracious banter; mentions rheumatism in his legs as an excuse for bad penmanship; hopes she is keeping up her practise; tells of a "Steinway Grand" that some one has sent him, and regrets that she does not come to try it "four hands," as he has failed utterly to get out of it alone the melody that he knows is there.

Brahms never married—the bond between himself and Clara was too sacred to allow another to sever or share it. And yet the relationship was so high, so frank, so openly avowed, that no breath of scandal has ever smirched it.

The purity and excellence of it all has been its own apology, as love ever should be its own excuse for being.

For about three months every year these two friends dwelt near each other. Together they worked, composed, sang, read, wrote and roamed the woods. "None of Madame Schumann's children is as young as she is," wrote Doctor Hanslick, when Clara was sixty and Johannes was forty-seven. "With the hope of passing for her father, Brahms is cultivating a patriarchal beard," continues Hanslick.

In his essay on "Friendship," Emerson speaks of the folly of forcing our personal presence on the friend we love best, and of the faith that ideality brings. Something of this thought is shown in the letters of Madame Schumann to Brahms, and in his to her.

Often for six months they would not meet, he doing his work in his own way, she doing hers, but each ever conscious of the life and love of the other—feeding on the ideal—writing or not writing, but glorying in each other's triumphs—lives linked first by the love of a third person, cemented by dire calamity, and then fused by a oneness of hope and aspiration.

Brahms' nature was too decidedly masculine, that is to say, one-sided, to exist without the love of woman; Clara Schumann, gentle, generous, motherly, plastic, needed Johannes no less than he needed her.

When Clara's spirit passed away, in May, Eighteen Hundred Ninety-six, Brahms attended her funeral at Frankfort. Hero that he was in body and spirit, the shock unnerved him. No rebound came—every bodily faculty seemed to have lost its buoyancy. The doctors tried to cheer him by telling him that he had no organic ailment, and that twenty years of life and work were before him. He knew better, and told them so. Men do not live any longer than they wish to. "Shall I live to see the anniversary of her death?" asked Brahms of the doctor in March, Eighteen Hundred Ninety-seven. "Oh, undoubtedly—you can live many years if you only will to," was the answer. Three weeks later—on April Third—Max Kalbrech telegraphed to Widmann, this message, "Brahms fell asleep early this morning."



SO HERE ENDETH "LITTLE JOURNEYS TO THE HOMES OF GREAT MUSICIANS," BEING VOLUME FOURTEEN OF THE SERIES, AS WRITTEN BY ELBERT HUBBARD: EDITED AND ARRANGED BY FRED BANN; BORDERS AND INITIALS BY ROYCROFT ARTISTS, AND PRODUCED BY THE ROYCROFTERS, AT THEIR SHOPS, WHICH ARE IN EAST AURORA, ERIE COUNTY, NEW YORK, MCMXXII

- Transcriber's note: The index covers the complete set of "Little Journeys" books. -

INDEX

(Compiled for Wm. H. Wise & Co., by John T. Hoyle, Managing Editor "The Fra" Magazine.)

Abbey, Edwin A., birth of, vi, 305; evolution of the art of, vi, 312; work of, in the Boston Public Library, vi, 323; studio of, vi, 322; George W. Childs and, vi, 309; Henry James on, vi, 311.

Abbotsford, home of Sir Walter Scott, iv, 321.

Abbott, John S. C., iii, 7; his life of Napoleon, vi, 129.

Abbott, Lyman, on H. W. Beecher, vii, 378.

Abildgaard, the painter, Thorwaldsen and, vi, 105.

Ability, a bucolic estimate of, viii, 173.

Abnegation, v, 243.

Abolition, v, 205; in New England, vii, 408.

Abraham, x, 19.

Abraham, Rembrandt's, iv, 63.

Abstinence, v, 248.

Account of the English Poets, Addison, v, 246.

Achievement, the price of, v, 135.

Acton, Lord, i, 60.

Adam Bede, Eliot, i, 59; v, 148.

Adams, Brooks, The Law of Civilization and Decay, xii, 89.

Adams, John, iii, 79, 251, 239; quoted, iii, 89.

Adams, John Quincy, mother of, iii, 143; marriage of, iii, 145; president, iii, 146; member of Congress, iii, 146; death of, iii, 146; on business, ix, 131; on Thomas Paine, ix, 158.

Adams, Maude, i, p xxvii; xii, 169.

Adams, Samuel, letter of, to Arthur Lee, iii, 78; politics of, iii, 80; part of, in the Boston uprising, iii, 81; member of the Calkers' Club, iii, 85; as a member of the Congress of the Colonies, iii, 91; characteristics of, iii, 94; place in history of, iii, 95, 251; typical Puritan, iii, 232; quoted, iii, 240.

Adams, Sarah Flower, v, 48.

Addison, Joseph, iii, 60; birthplace of, v, 239; the perfect English gentleman, v, 239; education of, v, 244; travels of, v, 247; under-secretary of State, v, 252; Parliamentary experience of, v, 252; meeting of, with Steele, v, 254; his connection with the Tatler and the Spectator, v, 254; referred to, v, 294; on Plato, x, 121.

Adirondack Murray, vii, 375.

Adler, Felix, ix, 282; preaching of, vii, 310.

Adolescence, Dr. Charcot on, xii, 23.

Adoration of the Magi, Botticelli, vi, 70.

Adversity, uses of, i, 110.

AEschines, disciple of Socrates, viii, 29.

AEschylus, ii, 28.

AEsthetic England, Walter Hamilton, xiii, 272.

Affectation, v, 238.

Africa, Petrarch, xiii, 239.

Agassiz, Louis, xi, 419; xii, 407; Darwinism and, xii, 230; Thoreau and, viii, 417; compared with Disraeli, v, 338.

Age, of enlightenment, viii, 271; of Herbert Spencer, viii, 354; of Michelangelo, iv, 6; of Rembrandt, iv, 78.

Age of Reason, The, Thomas Paine, ix, 157, 160, 179.

Agitators, personality of, vii, 409.

Agnosticism, x, 342.

Agnostic School, the, xii, 327.

Agriculture, Humboldt on, xii, 140.

Aida, Verdi, xiv, 294.

Aids to Reflection, Coleridge, v, 313.

Alameda smile, the, viii, 365.

Alaska, population of, iv, 128.

Albert memorial, i, 314.

Alcibiades, Socrates and, viii, 29; Nero compared with, viii, 71.

Alcott, Bronson, viii, 403; Emerson and, viii, 405; xi, 392; Socrates compared with, viii, 27.

Alcott, Louisa, on the death of Thoreau, viii, 428.

Alden, John, iii, 135.

Alden, John B., i, p xxxv.

Alderney, island of, i, 195.

Aldus, on the Bellinis, vi, 253.

Alexander the Great, iii, 119; iv, 160; Aristotle and, viii, 93; Diogenes and, viii, 96.

Alexander VI, Pope, vi, 43.

Ali Baba, i, p xv; ii, p x; vii, 189.

Allegri, Antonio, of Correggio, vi, 232.

Allen, Grant, educator, iv, 288; quoted, viii, 18; on sparrows, viii, 400.

All Sorts and Conditions of Men, Besant, i, 262.

Allston, American artist, iv, 318.

Almagest, The, Ptolemy, xii, 99.

Alma-Tadema, painter, vi, 14.

Almighty, The, Rembrandt, iv, 63.

Almsgiving, xi, 15.

Alsatia, reference to, iii, 281.

Alschuler, Sam, ix, 283.

Altgeld, John P., x, 65, 111; as an orator, vii, 22.

Altruistic injury, law of, xi, 390.

Amazons, the, iv, 9.

Ambition, iii, 260; iv, 46.

Ambrosian Library, Milan, vi, 52.

Ambrosius, Bishop Georgius, iii, 101.

Amelia, Fielding, iv, 302.

America, art in, iv, 282; Ary Scheffer's interest in, iv, 235; Blue Book of, i, p vi; famous paintings in, iv, 142; freedom in, vi, 146; Richard Cobden on, ix, 142; the greatest need of, vii, 38.

American institutions, Bruce on, iii, 75.

American natural oil, xi, 371.

American Revolution, Sons of, iii, 95.

American travelers in Ireland, i, 155.

American Undertakers' Association, i, 230.

Americanization of the World, The, W. T. Stead, vi, 341.

American Note-Book, Dickens, viii, 297.

Americans in England, ii, 95.

Amiel's Journal, vi, 273.

Anabasis, Xenophon, iii, 119.

Ananias and Sapphira referred to, ii, 217.

Anatomy Lesson, The, Rembrandt, iv, 59.

Anaxagoras, Greek philosopher, xii, 98, 369; pupil of Pythagoras, x, 71; teacher of Pericles, vii, 17; work of, i, 343.

Anaximander, Greek philosopher, xii, 368.

Ancestor worship, x, 19, 59.

Ancient Mariner, The, Coleridge, v, 305.

Andersen, Hans Christian, on Thorwaldsen, vi, 93.

Anderson, Mary, vi, 321.

Anecdotes of Painting, Walpole, iv, 101.

Angelus, The, Millet, iv, 281; vi, 215.

Anglican church, Voltaire on the, viii, 297.

Animality, vi, 71.

Animal Kingdom, The, Swedenborg, viii, 194.

Animal magnetism, x, 342.

Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe, xiii, 256.

Anna Karenina, Tolstoy, xiv, 351.

Ansidei, Raphael, vi, 29.

Anthony, Susan B., ii, 52; Dr. Buckley's opinion of, i, 135.

Anti-Corn-Law League, the, ix, 147, 236.

Anti-Masonic party, iii, 266.

Antisthenes, the Cynic, friend of Socrates, viii, 28.

Antoninus, Roman emperor, character of, viii, 120.

Antony, Mark, Cleopatra and, vii, 63; Caesar and, vii, 54; oration of, vii, 59; death of, vii, 76.

Antwerp, Spanish influence in, iv, 81; Venice compared with, xiv, 224.

A. P. A., the, iii, 265.

Apollo referred to, i, 279.

Apostle of negation, the American, v, 27.

Apostle of the ugly, Beardsley, vi, 31.

Apostolic succession, i, 114; v, 289.

Appleton, Daniel, American publisher, ix, 58.

Appreciation, vi, 238.

Approbation, xiv, 81.

Aquarellists, the, vi, 320.

Archbold, John D., xi, 379.

Architecture, Middle Ages in, v, 14.

Ariosto, Ludovico, sonnet to Gian Bellini, vi, 254.

Aristides the Just, iii, 244; friend of Socrates, viii, 28.

Aristocracy, iv, 242.

Aristophanes, i, 342; on the Pythagorean philosophy, x, 73; on Cheropho, viii, 27; quoted, vii, 32; of heaven, Heine's estimate of, i, 147.

Aristotle, xii, 99, 224, 370; quoted, viii, 93; the world's first naturalist, i, 341; on happiness, viii, 82; Leonardo compared with, viii, 91; influence of, viii, 109;

Kant compared with, viii, 154; Alexander the Great and, viii, 93; the Stagirite, viii, 86; Plato and, viii, 88; x, 114; the world's first scientist, xii, 265; John Ray on, xii, 275; Moses compared with, x, 13; on science, xi, 386.

Armour, Philip D., father of the packing-house industry, xi, 178; boyhood of, xi, 167; epigrams of, xi, 183; David Swing and, xi, 186; Joseph Leiter and, xi, 200; Nelson Morris and, xi, 189; Robert Collyer and, xi, 185; in California, xi, 174; business ideals of, xi, 199.

Armstrong, Gen. Samuel C., founder of Hampton Institute, x, 198.

Arnold, Matthew, quoted, v, 148; viii, 267; Frederic Chopin and, xiv, 103; Tennyson and, v, 80; in America, x, 220; home of, i, 218.

Arnold of Brescia, x, 223.

Arnold, Sir Edwin, as a lecturer, vii, 377.

Arnold, Thomas, a teacher of teachers, x, 222; education of, x, 226; as head master of Rugby, x, 231; Judge Lindsey compared with, x, 241; parents of, x, 225; the genius of, x, 234; Thomas Jefferson compared with, x, 241.

Arouet, Francois Marie, birthname of Voltaire, viii, 275.

Arrested development, v, 72; vi, 175.

Art, iv, 135; v, 183, 215; definition of, i, p xl; vi, 17; Venetian school of, vi, 255; Wagner on, xiv, 22; laws of, viii, 99; for art's sake, i, 281; roguery in, i, 241; of the ugly, vi, 73; of mentation, Spencer, viii, 355; Wagner's essay on, iv, 260; controlled by fad and fashion, iv, 220; the Bible in, iv, 58; the mintage of the soul, vi, 156; evolution and, iv, 159; the seven immortals of, vi, 244; in the Middle Ages, vi, 17; patriotism and, vi, 321; sublimity and, x, 38.

Artist, the, described, i, 132; illustrator and, difference between, iv, 329; Whistler on the, vi, 353; personality of the true, vi, 178.

Artistic conscience, the, iv, 133; vi, 177; x, 363.

Artistic jealousy, vi, 176, 275.

Artistic roustabouts, vi, 300.

Artists, two classes of, iv, 49; as teachers, iv, 53.

Asbury, Francis, Methodist missionary, ix, 50.

Asceticism, v, 105, 124, 235; sensuality and, vi, 91.

Aspasia, wife of Pericles, vii, 26; Socrates and, vii, 32; viii, 20.

Asser, father of English history, x, 139.

Assumption, The, Titian, iv, 151, 167.

Astor, John Jacob, boyhood of, xi, 205; as a fur-trader, xi, 211; prophecies of, xi, 213; marriage of, xi, 214; Thomas Jefferson and, xi, 221; Fitz-Greene Halleck and, xi, 227.

Astoria, history of, xi, 221.

Astrology as a profession, xii, 184; astronomy and, xii, 97; Dean Swift's ridicule of, i, 149.

Astronomy, Chinese, xii, 97; the study of, xii, 176.

Astuteness, John Fiske on, viii, 250.

As You Like It, Shakespeare, v, 119.

Atavism, vi, 97.

Athens, i, 321; iv, 13; climate of, viii, 28; decline of, iii, 232.

Atterbury, Bishop, reference to, i, 124.

Attila, i, 238.

Auburn, village of, i, 283.

Audubon, the naturalist, v, 133.

Augustus, age of, ix, 94; the boast of, viii, 48.

Austen, Jane, novels of, ii, 247; family of, ii, 243; home of, ii, 249; friends of, ii, 254; characters of, ii, 253; referred to, v, 294.

Austin, Hon. James T., attorney-general of Massachusetts, vii, 407.

Australia, animals of, xii, 388.

Authors, favorite, vi, 244; troubles of, v, 308.

Autobiography, xiii, 313.

Autobiography, J. S. Mill, xiii, 153.

Avon, the river, i, 301.

Aztecs, the, vi, 70.

Babel, tower of, iv, 115.

Bacchus, Michelangelo's statue of, iv, 19.

Bachelors, classification of, viii, 290; two kinds of, xi, 325.

Bach, Johann Sebastian, xiv, 137; home life of, xiv, 155; Michelangelo compared with, xiv, 137.

Bacon, Lord, referred to, iii, 37; Shakespeare and, vi, 47.

Baedeker's description of Stratford, i, 312; description of London, ii, 118.

Baer, Karl von, xii, 371.

Ballad of Boullabaisse, Thackeray, i, 241.

Ball family, the, xi, 404.

Ballou, Hosea, and Thomas Paine compared, ix, 184.

Balmoral, home of Queen Victoria, iv, 324.

Baltimore and Ohio Railroad Company, formation of, xi, 247.

Balzac and Madame De Berney, xiii, 282; Napoleon and, xiii, 279; on literary reputation, xiii, 209; Victor Hugo on, xiii, 308; Contes Drolatiques, iv, 338.

Banbury Cross, i, 301.

Bancroft, historian, quoted, iii, 48.

Bandello and Leonardo, vi, 50.

Baptists, Hook-and-Eye, v, 236.

Barbarelli, Giorgio, vi, 258.

Barbary pirates, the, iv, 295.

Barbecue defined, vii, 247.

Barbers' university, a, iii, 237.

Barbizon, hills of, iv, 339; school, the, vi, 189; village of, iv, 278.

Barnabee, Henry Clay, i, p xxvii.

Barnum and Bailey Circus, iii, 194.

Barnum of Science, the, i, 163.

Barnum of Theology, the, i, 163.

Barnum, Phineas T., iv, 344; xii, 383; xiv, 90, 319.

Barons, age of the, xi, 306.

Barrett, Elizabeth, ii, 239; v, 58.

Barrie, James, xiii, 11; on the Scotch, xi, 263.

Barr, Robert, i, p xxvii.

Bartenders, American, vii, 214.

Bartol, Dr. C. A., on Starr King, vii, 313.

Bartolomeo, the friend of Raphael, vi, 23.

Bartolomeo, the friend of Savonarola, vi, 24.

Bashfulness, Emerson on, v, 248.

Bashkirtseff, Marie, diary of, vi, 273.

Bastile, iii, 72.

Bates, Joshua, on Starr King, vii, 317.

Bath, English watering-place, xii, 167.

Battle of Wad Ras, Fortuny, iv, 219.

Bayreuth, home of Wagner, xiv, 35.

Beaconsfield, Earl of, quoted, v, 41.

Bear-baiting, v, 238.

Beard, Dr. Charles, description of Luther's trial, vii, 145.

Beardsley, Aubrey, iv, 159; vi, 73; the apostle of the ugly, vi, 81.

Beata Beatrix, Rossetti, xiii, 270.

Beau Brummel, ii, 197.

Beaumont, Sir George, and the Wordsworths, i, 215.

Beau Nash, xiii, 412; "the King of Bath," vi, 141.

Beauty, v, 237; xiv, 26; intellect and, x, 277; Greek idealization of, iv, 9.

Beecher, Henry Ward, vi, 148; xi, 258; boyhood of, vii, 352; influence of, vii, 345; a man's preacher, vii, 356; ministries of, vii, 356; parents of, vii, 348; preaching of, viii, 173; wife of, vii, 368; Lyman Abbott and, vii, 378; Dr. E. H. Chapin and, vii, 320; Robert Ingersoll and, vii, 357; Lincoln and, vii, 379; Lincoln compared with, vii, 348; Major Pond and, vii, 360; Talmage compared with, vii, 359; the Tiltons and, vii, 364; Rufus Choate on, vii, 359; on elocution, viii, 54; vi, 187; on the human heart, vii, 344; on Henry Thoreau, viii, 424.

Beecher, Lyman, logician, vii, 348; W. L. Garrison and, vii, 395.

Beecher, Sarah Porter, vii, 351.

Beechers, the, ii, 115.

Beef-eaters, the, v, 46.

Beethoven, Ludwig van, xiv, 234; blindness of, viii, 346; influence of, on Wagner, xiv, 245.

Beggar, A, Rembrandt, iv, 63.

Beggar's Opera, The, Gay, viii, 295.

Beilhart, Jacob, ix, 283.

Bellamy, Edward, iii, 261; x, 117.

Bellini, Gentile, vi, 252; Giovanni and, iv, 156; the Turkish Sultan and, vi, 261.

Bellini, Gian, vi, 252; Mrs. Oliphant's estimate of, vi, 248; pupils of, vi, 254.

Bellini, Giovanni, vi, 256.

Bellini, Jacopo, iv, 60, 99; vi, 252.

Bells and Pomegranates, Browning, v, 58.

Benedictines, ii, 23; industry of the, x, 318.

Bentham, Jeremy, jurist, xi, 34; Mill on, v, 289.

Bergerac, Cyrano de, quoted, xi, 200.

Berlitz method, the, ii, 245.

Bernhardt, Sara, viii, 278; xiv, 266.

Besant, Annie, Theosophist, x, 342; Charles Bradlaugh and, ix, 266.

Besant, Walter, i, 262; iii, 189.

Bessemer, Sir Henry, xi, 278.

Beveridge, Sen. Albert J., xi, 24.

Bible, Dore's illustrations of, iv, 388; in art, iv, 58.

Bibliotheke, the, i, p xxvi.

Bigelow, Poultney, and Herbert Spencer, viii, 189.

Bigotry, vii, 30.

Billingsgate fish market, i, 259.

Biographies, machine-made, ii, 17; the writing of, vi, 129.

Biography, Edmund Gosse on, vii, 346; James Anthony Froude on, vii, 347; writers of, ii, 17.

Biology, Humboldt on, xii, 140.

Birrell, Augustine, the English essayist, quoted, i, 143; v, 176, 218; on George Henry Lewes, viii, 339; on Ruskin, vi, 126.

Birth of Venus, The, Botticelli, vi, 69.

Bishop of outsiders, Henry George, ix, 69.

Bispham, David, i, p xxvii.

Blacksmith, The, Whistler, vi, 177.

Blackstone, xii, 179; Burke and, vii, 164; Commentaries, i, 295; referred to, i, 295.

Blaine, James G., Roscoe Conkling and, vii, 23; compared with Henry Clay, iii, 222.

Blair, John, v, 163.

Blake, Admiral, and Oliver Cromwell, ix, 332.

Blake, Harrison, friend of Thoreau, viii, 424.

Blake, William, birth of, ii, 124.

Blanc, Louis, i, 56.

Blenheim, battle of, v, 250.

Blessed Damozel, The, D. C. Rossetti, ii, 123; iv, 51; v, 16; xiii, 255.

Blessington, Lady, and Lord Byron, v, 21.

Blithedale Romance, Hawthorne, viii, 402.

"Bloody Monday" at Harvard, i, 192.

Bloomington, Ill., birthplace of Republican Party, iii, 287.

Blue Book of America, i, p vi.

Blue-coat school, ii, 218.

Blue Grass Aristocracy, iii, 212.

Boarding-schools, viii, 369; English, ix, 135.

Boccaccio and Petrarch, xiii, 232.

Body and Mind, Maudsley, viii, 191.

Boer war, the, vii, 35.

Boleyn, Anne, ii, 198.

Bolingbroke, Viscount, vii, 168.

Bonaparte, Joseph, i, 185.

Bonaparte, Napoleon, ii, 267.

Bonheur, Rosa, v, 107; xiii, 22; xiv, 267; father of, ii, 155; birth of, ii, 155; Paris home of, ii, 156; success of, ii, 150; home of, at By, ii, 147; vi, 213; the Barbizon School and, vi, 213.

Book-agents, Joseph Cannon on, viii, 349.

Book-collectors, v, 44.

Bookmaking, early, iv, 55.

Book of Rules, St. Benedict, x, 324.

Bookplate, Washington's, iii, 8.

Bookplates, iv, 120.

Books, illumination of, i, p xxv; Charles Lamb's love of, iv, 140; Turner's opinion of, i, 132.

Boone, Daniel, iii, 216.

Borgia, Cesare, and Leonardo, vi, 43.

Borgia, Lucrezia, i, 75; v, 216; vi, 43.

Bossism, political, v, 186.

Boston Ideal Opera Company, i, p xxvii.

Boston, founding of, ix, 337; Washington at, iii, 19.

Boston Massacre, iii, 114.

Boston Public Library, vi, 323.

Boston Thursday Lecture, ix, 358.

Boswell, i, 259; iv, 8; ix, 164; xii, 179; biographer of Samuel Johnson, v, 145; Goldsmith's characterization of, viii, 26; Garrick's characterization of, viii, 26; Reynolds and, iv, 299; Vasari compared with, vi, 19; quoted, i, 294.

Botany, science of, xii, 268.

Botticelli, Sandro, iv, 28; vi, 12, 69; Adoration of the Magi, vi, 70; appearance of, vi, 70; Burne-Jones and, vi, 71; George Eliot on, vi, 69; Goldsmith compared with, vi, 70; influence of, iv, 159; Rembrandt compared with, vi, 69; Simonetta and, vi, 83; Spring of, vi, 78; Birth of Venus of, vi, 69; Walter Pater on, vi, 65.

"Bottled Hate," i, 240.

Bouncers described, i, 218.

Bow-legs, vi, 308.

Boyd, Hugh Stuart, ii, 21.

Boys, Elbert Hubbard's love for, vi, 102.

Bradlaugh, Charles, Annie Besant and, ix, 266; Gladstone and, ix, 268; Henry Labouchere and, ix, 266; Mark Marsden and, ix, 246; J. S. Mill and, xiii, 171; John Morley and, ix, 271; biography of, ix, 243; Paine and Ingersoll compared with, ix, 243; law practise of, ix, 256; on the clergy, xii, 154; services of, ix, 243; wife of, ix, 255.

Brahms, Johannes, and the Schumanns, xiv, 337.

Brain power described, i, 342.

Brain versus Brawn, vi, 51.

Bramante, Italian architect, iv, 26.

Brann the Iconoclast, ix, 97.

Brantwood, i, 88.

Brashear, John, maker of telescopes, xii, 178.

Breathing habit, the, viii, 159.

Breeds in birds and animals, ix, 275.

Breton, Jules, ix, 198.

Bridge of Sighs, Venice, iv, 150; v, 200.

Bright, John, Robert Owen and, ix, 226; Richard Cobden and, ix, 149, 231; Gladstone on, ix, 238; on the Corn Laws, ix, 216; Sir Robert Peel on, ix, 238; on taxation, ix, 228.

Bright, Dr. Richard, physician, ix, 224.

Bright's Disease, iii, 123.

Brisbane, Arthur, x, 338.

British Museum, origin of, i, 124.

Broadway, the village of, vi, 319.

Brockway methods, viii, 72.

Bronco-busting, viii, 328.

Bronte, Charlotte, ii, 239; father of, ii, 98; mother of, ii, 99; death of, ii, 99; home of, ii, 107; sisters of, ii, 108; works of, ii, 112; Thackeray and, i, 240; referred to, v, 294.

Bronze, casting of, vi, 274.

Brooke, Lord, referred to, i, 303.

Brooke, Stopford, quoted, v, 78.

Brook Farm, viii, 402; x, 319; influence of the, viii, 402; Theodore Parker and, ix, 293.

Brookfield and Alfred Tennyson, v, 76.

Brooklyn, Washington at, iii, 24.

Brooks, Phillips, preaching of, vii, 309.

Brooks, Shirley, i, 236.

Brotherhood, of Fine Minds, the, v, 304; of Latter-Day Swine, i, 71; of man, ix, 133; of Saint Luke, Antwerp, iv, 173.

Brougham, Lord, i, 108; ii, 83: Byron and, v, 218.

Brown, Dr. John, xi, 264.

Brown, Ford Madox, ii, 125; v, 18; vi, 11; his description of Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal, xiii, 261.

Brown, John, vii, 409; Theodore Parker and, ix, 300; Major Pond and, vii, 360.

Brown, Osawatomie, vi, 148.

Browning, Elizabeth B., date of birth, ii, 17; early years of, ii, 19; mother of, ii, 19; father of, ii, 20; education of, ii, 21; London home of, ii, 27; friends of, ii, 30; meeting of, with Robert Browning, ii, 35; marriage of, ii, 37; Italian home of, ii, 38; favorite book of, ix, 376; grave of, v, 64; influence of, on William Morris and Burne-Jones, v, 12; quoted, iv, 5.

Browning, Robert, i, 96, 236; ii, 109; v, 97; appearance of, v, 40; his ancestry, v, 41; grave of, v, 43; parents of, v, 44; life of, by Mrs. Sutherland Orr, v, 40; habits of, v, 42; love for Lizzie Flower, v, 48; gipsy life of, v, 51; his friendship for Fanny Haworth, v, 56; his meeting with Elizabeth Barrett, ii, 35; v, 58; his marriage, v, 61; death of, v, 65; homage rendered his memory, v, 66; Elizabeth Barrett and, xiv, 125; John Stuart Mill compared with, xiii, 170; Rembrandt compared with, vi, 67; Wordsworth compared with, i, 222; on spiritual advisers, viii, 174; quoted, iii, 41; v, 62; love of society, v, 79.

Brown-Sequard, Dr., i, 247.

Bruno, Giordano, xii, 47; Luther and, xii, 54; Sir Philip Sidney and, xii, 51; statue of, ix, 123.

Bryant, William Cullen, iv, 51; v, 97; xi, 258.

Bryce, James, on American institutions, iii, 75; on Parnell, xiii, 204.

Buck, Dudley, on Mozart, xiv, 298.

Bucke, Dr., friend of Whitman, i, 166.

Bucke, Richard Maurice, quoted, xiii, 61.

Buckingham, Duke of, iv, 115.

Buckingham, poet, contemporary of Addison, v, 249.

Buckle, Henry Thomas, the historian, v, 196; grave of, i, 231; noted, iv, 42; quoted, iii, 60; vii, 180; referred to, v, 289.

Buckley, Dr., opinion of, regarding Susan B. Anthony, i, 135; ii, 52.

Buddha, quoted, xiii, 84.

Buffalo Bill, i, 119; ii, 149.

Buffalo Normal School, i, p xvii.

Buffon, French naturalist, xii, 370.

Builder's itch, x, 313.

Bull Run, battle of, iii, 200.

Bulwer-Lytton, and Disraeli, v, 333; on Verdi, xiv, 274.

Bunker Hill, battle of, iii, 140.

Bunsen, Robert, German chemist, xii, 351.

Bunyan, John, and Oliver Cromwell, ix, 331.

Buonarroti, Michel Agnola, iv, 6.

Burbank, Luther, and Andrew Carnegie, xi, 290.

Burgoyne, British general, iii, 168.

Burial of Sir David Wilkie at Sea, The, Turner's painting, i, 138.

Burke, Edmund, ix, 164; xii, 179; appearance of, vii, 160; birthplace of, vii, 159; at Bath, xii, 169; English Settlements in North America, vii, 172; Blackstone and, vii, 164; Frances Burney and, vii, 161; Charles Fox and, vii, 179; William Gerard Hamilton and, vii, 174; Warren Hastings and, vii, 161; Samuel Johnson and, v, 162; vii, 165; Hannah More and, vii, 161; Thomas Paine and, ix, 173; Reynolds and, iv, 305; vii, 160, 174; Marquis of Rockingham and, vii, 177; Richard Shackleton and, vii, 165; Cicero compared with, vii, 174; Goldsmith compared with, vii, 161; Daniel Webster compared with, iii, 204; influence of Bolingbroke on, vii, 168; Macaulay on, vii, 173; on the Hessians, xi, 149; on the Irish, xi, 335; on Malthus, ix, 11; On the Sublime, vii, 172, 318; The Vindication of Natural Society, vii, 168; on William Pitt, vii, 186; parentage of, vii, 159; wife of, vii, 170; quoted, iii, 48; referred to, i, 280; v, 188.

Burke, John, Peerage, iii, 8, 210; iv, 303.

Burne-Jones, Edward, v, 12; avatar of Giorgione, iv, 158; avatar of Raphael, vi, 12; Botticelli and, vi, 71; influence of, on Morris, v, 15; William Morris and, xiii, 254; marriage of, ii, 125; referred to, iii, 150.

Burney, Frances, ii, 183; xii, 183; Reynolds and, iv, 299; Jane Austen compared with, ii, 247; Edmund Burke and, vii, 161.

Burns, James A., ix, 283.

Burns, Robert, worth as a poet, v, 97; love-affairs of, v, 102; classification of his poems, v, 103; his moral and religious nature, v, 105; main facts in the life of, v, 115; as a farmer, v, 26; Aubrey Beardsley compared with, vi, 73.

Burr, Aaron, iv, 193; vii, 191; member of Washington's family, iii, 166; character of, iii, 175; parentage of, iii, 176; attorney-general of N. Y. State, iii, 177; vice-president, iii, 177; quarrel of, with Alexander Hamilton, iii, 177; duel of, with Hamilton, iii, 179; arrest of, iii, 180; death of, iii, 181; U. S. Senator, iii, 177.

Burr, Margaret, wife of Gainsborough, vi, 139.

Burroughs, John, x, 249; xii, 273; Elbert Hubbard and, xii, 376; Rousseau and, ix, 394; Prof. Youmans and, viii, 346; on Henry Thoreau, viii, 423; quoted, v, 108.

Bushnell, Uncle Billy, i, p xxv; vii, 189.

Business, as a profession, ix, 130; success in, xi, 355.

Businessman, definition of a, xi, 315.

Butler, Ben, Wendell Phillips and, vii, 388.

Butterbriefe, vii, 126.

Butterfly, The, Wordsworth, i, 214.

Byron, Lord George Gordon, ii, 184, 306; iv, 196; v, 97, 203; birth of, v, 203; the true Byron, v, 204; father of, v, 206; mother of, v, 206; viii, 57; life of, at Harrow, v, 211; love-affairs of, v, 212; birth of his poetic genius, v, 215; admission to the House of Lords, v, 220; travels of, v, 221; meeting of, with Thomas Moore, v, 224; marriage of, v, 226; death of, v, 231; corsair life of, i, 179; Coleridge and, v, 310; Disraeli and, v, 324; Giorgione and, iv, 165; Shelley and, v, 229; Southey and, v, 281; Thorwaldsen and, vi, 116; Aubrey Beardsley compared with, vi, 73; Shakespeare compared with, v, 204; John Galt's life of, vi, 129; opinion of, on painting, i, 134; quoted, vii, 67; xiii, 226; referred to, v, 50; v, 183; poem of, on Thomas Moore, i, 157.

By, village of, ii, 146.

Cabbages and cauliflowers, vi, 67.

Caesar, iv, 193; character of, vii, 49; Cleopatra and, vii, 44; funeral of, vii, 58; Mark Antony and, vii, 54; Mark Antony on, vii, 49; referred to, iii, 119; v, 185, 201.

Caesar Augustus, nephew of Julius Caesar, x, 125.

Caine, Hall, ii, 129.

Calamity, vii, 318.

Calcutta, i, 233.

Calhoun, John C., iii, 199.

California, ii, 241; a land of extremes, ix, 71; Southern, ii, 111.

Caligula, Roman emperor, ii, 195; viii, 49.

Calvert, William, and the Wordsworths, i, 215.

Calvinism, iii, 80.

Calvin, John, i, 238; ii, 183; ix, 187, 197; referred to, v, 123; Servetus and, ix, 201; wife of, ix, 210.

Cambrai, Archbishop of, ii, 54.

Camden, N. J., description of, i, 168.

Campaign, The, Addison, v, 251.

Canada, boundary-line of, iii, 247.

Cane-rush, a college, viii, 245; reference to, i, 192.

Canned life, vi, 170.

Canning, George, referred to, v, 188.

Cannon, Joseph, on book-agents, viii, 349.

Canova, Antonio, sculptor, vi, 107; Thorwaldsen and, vi, 108.

Canute, king of England, x, 148.

Capitol at Washington, dome of, iv, 35.

Caprera, home of Garibaldi, ix, 121.

Captain, My Captain, Whitman, iv, 262.

Carlile, Mrs. Richard, suffragist, ix, 249.

Carlisle, Lord, and Byron, v, 220.

Carlyle, Thomas, i, 56; ii, 127; iv, 253; mother of, i, 69; father of, i, 69; education of, i, 70; philosophy of, i, 71; his domestic life, i, 74; home of, in Chelsea, i, 77; statue of, i, 77; Emerson and, ii, 286, vi, 155; Simonne Evrard and, vii, 226; eulogy of Tennyson, v, 80; eulogy of Daniel Webster, iii, 184; Herbert Spencer and, xii, 340; influence of, on John Tyndall, xii, 349; Life of Frederick, viii, 312; on Oliver Cromwell, ix, 305; on Darwin, xii, 230; on death, xi, 407; on John Knox, ix, 213; on J. S. Mill, xiii, 151; on Lord Nelson, xiii, 429; on respectability, xi, 362; Macaulay and, v, 182; Milburn and, vii, 227; quoted, iii, 40, 231; v, 85; xiii, 49; referred to, v, 162; remark concerning George Eliot, xiv, 95; Taine on, viii, 312; Jeannie Welsh and, i, 75; his "House of Lords," ii, 57.

Carlyle Society, the, i, 79.

Carman, Bliss, xiv, 49.

Carnegie, Andrew, beneficences of, xi, 282; boyhood of, xi, 267; governmental experience of, xi, 276; James Anderson and, xi, 281; the Bessemer steel process and, xi, 278; Luther Burbank and, xi, 290;

Elbert Hubbard and, xi, 284; Bill Jones and, x, 161; the Pittsburgh bankers and, xi, 322; Thomas A. Scott and, xi, 273; Booker T. Washington and, xi, 290; Lincoln compared with, xi, 295; quoted, xi, 65; xiii, 88; as a telegraph-operator, xi, 273.

Carnegie Hall, i, p xxxvii; xi, 282.

Carnegie libraries, xi, 286.

Carnot, president, death of, i, 202.

Carpenter, Edward, quoted, v, 101; Walt Whitman and, x, 46.

Carrara quarries, the, iv, 26.

Cartesian philosophy, the, viii, 226.

Carthage, iii, 232.

Carus, Dr. Paul, xiv, 114; American exponent of Monism, xii, 260.

Casabianca, xiii, 420.

Cassiodorus, vii, 114.

Caste, social, xi, 139.

Castiglione, v, 258.

Castle Garden, iii, 131; xi, 56.

Catholic clergy, celibacy of, i, 153.

Catholicism, ix, 279.

Catholics, Protestant opinions regarding, vi, 13.

Cato, Addison's tragedy of, v, 260.

Cato's Soliloquy, Addison, v, 234.

Cato, suicide of, ii, 164; v, 250.

Cats, Manx, viii, 328.

Cat's Paw, Landseer, iv, 321.

Cauliflowers and cabbages, vi, 67.

Cause and effect, viii, 270.

Caveat emptor, xi, 11.

Cazenovia creek, i, p xxiv.

Cebes, disciple of Socrates, viii, 29.

Celibacy of the Catholic clergy, i, 153.

Cellini, Benvenuto, boyhood of, vi, 277; Michelangelo and, vi, 281; Tasso and, vi, 282; Torrigiano and, vi, 281; Vasari and, vi, 288; life of, in Pisa, vi, 279; personality of, vi, 273; in prison, vi, 289; The Perseus of, vi, 291.

Centennial Exposition, Philadelphia, i, 329.

Central Music Hall, Chicago, i, p xxxvii.

Cerebrum, fatty degeneration of the, vi, 20.

Cervantes, i, 317; vi, 50.

Chaillu, Paul du, xii, 382.

Chains of Slavery, The, Marat, vii, 220.

Chair, the Morris, v, 21.

Chalmers, Hugh, i, p vi.

Channel Island boats, i, 195.

Channing, William Ellery, xiii, 238; Thoreau and, viii, 397.

Chapin, Dr. E. H., and Beecher, vii, 320; on Starr King, vii, 316.

Character, Cobden on, ix, 139; Socrates on, viii, 27.

Charcot, Dr., on adolescence, vii, 353; quoted, xii, 23.

Charity, v, 238; xi, 304.

Charles Albert of Piedmont, ix, 118.

Charles I, King of England, iv, 114; execution of, ix, 332.

Charles V, Emperor of Germany, vii, 144.

Charles X, King of France, i, 191.

Charles XII of Sweden, equestrian statue of, vi, 99.

Charlestown, burning of, iii, 140.

Charmides, disciple of Socrates, viii, 29.

Charm of manner, xi, 317; xiii, 42.

Charon, referred to, v, 97.

Charterhouse School, i, 233.

Chateaubriand, quoted, iv, 258.

Chateauneuf, Abbe de, Voltaire and, viii, 278.

Chatham, Lord, referred to, i, 151; quoted, iii, 93; Daniel Webster compared with, iii, 204.

Chatterton, Thomas, v, 97.

Chaucer, i, 110; v, 14.

Chautauqua, i, p xxxviii.

Chavannes, Puvis de, vi, 323.

Chelsea, i, 61; i, 77.

Chemistry of a Sunbeam, The, Youmans, viii, 347.

Cheropho, disciple of Socrates, viii, 26.

Chesterfield, letter of Johnson to, v, 144.

Chiaroscuro, Rembrandt's ideas of, iv, 57.

Chicago, as an art center, iv, 142.

Chicago Convention, nomination of Lincoln at, iii, 304.

Chicago Fair, the, iv, 60.

Chicago fire, the, Fortuny's contribution to the sufferers of, iv, 218.

Childe Harold, Byron, v, 200, 224; Contarini compared with, v, 332.

Child, evolution of the, vi, 196; xii, 279.

Childhood, impressions of, iv, 341.

Child-labor, xi, 23.

Child, Professor, and William Morris, v, 30.

Children, diseases of, xi, 137; education of, xi, 173; ix, 224; God-given tenants, vi, 313; Macaulay's love of, v, 193; sorrows of, x, 157.

Childs, George W., vi, 318; Abbey and, vi, 309.

Child's History of England, Dickens, i, 248.

China, astronomers of, xii, 97; Edward Carpenter on, x, 46; future of, x, 43.

Chivalry, v, 249.

Choate, Rufus, on Beecher, vii, 359.

Choir Invisible, The, George Eliot, i, 48.

Chopin, Frederic, Aubrey Beardsley compared with, vi, 73; Giorgione and, vi, 254; mother of, xiv, 88; Stephen Crane compared with, xiv, 81.

Christ at Emmaus, Rembrandt, vi, 66.

Christian astrology, xii, 97.

Christian dogma, Ingersoll on, vii, 257.

Christianity, ii, 195; evolution in definition of, vi, 146; freethought and, xii, 151; paganism and, vi, 224; vii, 49; ix, 276; primitive, ix, 19.

Christian Science, ix, 19; x, 329, 336; orthodox Christianity and, x, 372; Transcendentalism and, viii, 404.

Christian Scientists, characteristics of, x, 329.

Christian Socialists, v, 22.

Christ life, the, ii, 201.

Chromos, v, 33.

Chrysalis, the, v, 175.

Church, divine authority of, i, 111; Martin Luther on the, vii, 131; a menace, ix, 182; the mother of modern art, iv, 18; State and, xiv, 231.

Churches as trysting-places, xiii, 122.

Churchill, Winston, vii, 21.

Cicero, on Mark Antony, vii, 61; referred to, v, 162, 185;

Cigarette habit, the, iv, 108; x, 204.

Cimabue, Giovanni, Florentine painter, vi, 21.

Cincinnatus, Roman patriot, xiii, 85.

Circuit-rider, the, ix, 42.

City slums, ix, 83.

Civilization, ii, 193; the badge of, xi, 296; English, x, 134; xiii, 52; the problem of, xii, 221; problems of, xii, 155; savagery and, iv, 263.

Clairvoyant, the, viii, 174.

Clarissa Harlowe, Richardson, iv, 302.

Clarke, Mary Cowden, ix, 285.

Clarkson, Thomas, and the Wordsworths, i, 215.

Class-day poets, vi, 325.

Classic art, xiv, 252.

Classification of Animals, Huxley, xii, 327.

Claudius, Roman emperor, viii, 49; James I compared with, viii, 58.

Clay, Henry, iii, 269; ancestry of, iii, 209; home of, iii, 212; education of, iii, 218; as a lawyer, iii, 219; member of the Fayette County bar, iii, 220; U. S. Senator, iii, 220; speaker of the House, iii, 220; as an agitator, iii, 221; as an orator, iii, 222; monument of, iii, 226.

Clemens, Samuel L. (Mark Twain), i, 164; H. H. Rogers and, x, 110; xi, 389.

Clement VII, Pope, iv, 31.

Cleopatra, death of, vii, 77; Julius Caesar and, vii, 44; Mark Antony and, vii, 63.

Clergymen, the children of, v, 294; orthodox, iii, 81.

Clergy, Voltaire's contempt for, viii, 280.

Cleveland, as an art center, iv, 142.

Cleveland, Grover, xii, 238.

Clinton, De Witt, iii, 239, 263; xiii, 185.

Cobbett, William, and Thomas Paine, ix, 161, 167.

Cobden, Richard, ii, 83; v, 30; on America, ix, 142; John Bright and, ix, 149, 231; Disraeli's criticism of, ix, 140; influence of, ix, 127; John Morley on, ix, 140; ix, 153; on boarding-schools, ix, 135; on the moral power of England, ix, 126; Lord Palmerston on, ix, 152; Sir Robert Peel and, ix, 150; political life of, ix, 146; Arthur F. Sheldon and, ix, 138.

Cobden-Sanderson, T. J., partner of William Morris, v, 30; wife of, ix, 234.

Code duello, the, i, 276.

Cohen, origin of name, x, 30.

Coke, Sir Edward, ix, 313.

Coleridge, Hartley, v, 274.

Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, ii, 221; his place as a philosopher, v, 289; birth of, v, 294; parents of, v, 294; precocity of, v, 295; education of, v, 297; fame of, as a poet, v, 301; home of, in the Lake District, v, 303; marriage of, v, 302; friendship of Dorothy Wordsworth for, v, 304; his literary work, v, 307; physical and mental breakdown of, v, 309; death of, v, 310; the creator of the higher criticism, v, 314; Aids to Reflection, v, 313; The Ancient Mariner, v, 305; Byron and, v, 310; Dr. Gillman and, v, 309; Keats and, v, 310; Harriet Martineau and, ii, 83; Shelley and, v, 310; Josiah Wedgwood and, v, 305; Mary Wollstonecraft and, xiii, 102; the Wordsworths and, i, 212, 216; cited, ii, 220; Dore's illustrations of the works of, iv, 338; estimate of Jane Austen, ii, 254; Mill on, v, 289; Principal Shairp on, v, 314; Mary Lamb and, ii, 220.

Collecting and collectors, iv, 119.

Colleges, in America, xii, 244; the small college, x, 240; education, worth of, iv, 128; college training, xii, 241; Thoreau on, viii, 397.

Collins, William, on Dean Swift, i, 151; referred to, iii, 37.

Collyer, Rev. Robert, James Oliver and, xi, 79; Philip D. Armour and, xi, 185.

Cologne—Evening, Turner's painting, i, 135.

Colonia Agrippina, viii, 67.

Colonial "broadsides," ix, 74.

Colosseum, Rome, i, 317.

Colosseum, The, Corot, vi, 188.

Columbus, Christopher, vi, 50; xii, 144.

Comedy, v, 240.

Come-outers, ii, 189; ix, 318.

Comets, iv, 331.

Commerce, Cobden on, ix, 128; Emerson on, ix, 130.

Common Sense, Thomas Paine, ix, 157.

Communists, classes of, xi, 42.

Companionship, xiv, 110; spiritual, v, 227.

Compasses, proportional, xii, 64.

Compensation, Emerson's essay on, xii, 261.

Compensation, law of, ii, 238; iv, 226; vii, 349; xi, 149; xiv, 41.

Competition, xiii, 247; co-operation and, v, 23.

Complacency, i, 237.

Compromise, Morley, vii, 17.

Comte, Auguste, ii, 86; marriage of, viii, 250; insanity of, viii, 255; teachings of, ii, 86; Clothilde de Vaux and, viii, 264; Benjamin Franklin and, viii, 246; Harriet Martineau and, viii, 257; John Stuart Mill and, viii, 257; Napoleon and, viii, 242; Saint Simon and, viii, 247, 277; Alexander von Humboldt and, viii, 254.

Comus, Milton, v, 137.

Condorcet, Marquis de, viii, 241.

Confessional, the, iv, 339; need of, v, 86.

Confessions of St. Augustine, vi, 273.

Confessions, Rousseau, i, 55; ix, 376.

Confidence, v, 238.

Confucius, Emerson compared with, x, 51; Socrates compared with, x, 50, 60; contemporaries of, x, 44; influence of, x, 43; mother of, x, 59; Lao-tsze and, x, 63.

Congregationalism, ix, 279.

Congregational singing, vii, 338.

Congregational societies, ix, 297.

Congreve on Addison, v, 252; Voltaire and, viii, 295.

Coningsby, Disraeli, v, 341.

Conjugal Love, Swedenborg, viii, 191.

Conkling, Roscoe, as an orator, vii, 22.

Conklin, James C., friend of Lincoln, iii, 288.

Connecticut policy, the, v, 173.

Connecticut, Washington on, iii, 27.

Connestabile Madonna, Raphael, vi, 27.

Conotancarius, Indian name of Washington, iii, 17.

Consanguinity, v, 295.

Conscience, the artistic, iv, 133.

Constable, the English painter, iv, 318; influence of, on Corot, vi, 201.

Constant, Benjamin, writer and politician, ii, 178.

Constantine the Great, xi, 131; composite religion of, ix, 279.

Contarini Fleming, Disraeli, v, 324.

Contes Drolatiques, Dore's illustrations of, iv, 338.

Convent life, advantages of, vi, 227.

Conversations of Meissonier, iv, 118, 140.

Conversion of St. Paul, Michelangelo, iv, 34.

Conway, Rev. Moncure D., ix, 243; life of Thomas Paine by, xi, 100.

Cook, Captain, ix, 164; xi, 214.

Cook's tourists, i, 100; v, 284.

Co-operation, ix, 225; competition and, v, 23.

Co-operative stores, xi, 47.

Cooper, Peter, America's first businessman, xi, 233; as a glue-manufacturer, xi, 244; as an inventor, xi, 245; boyhood of, xi, 237; marriage of, xi, 242; public services of, xi, 253; Benjamin Franklin compared with, xi, 234; Cyrus W. Field and, xi, 235; Matthew Vassar and, xi, 242; R. G. Ingersoll and, xi, 259.

Cooper Union, the, xi, 255; Faneuil Hall compared with, xi, 258.

Copernicus, Nicholas, parentage of, xii, 101; epitaph of, xii, 120; at Frauenburg, xii, 111; Columbus and, xii, 107;

King Sigismund of Poland and, xii, 112; Novarra and, xii, 104; Pythagoras compared with, x, 92; the teachings of, xii, 49.

Copley, the Boston artist, iv, 304.

Copperheads, definition of, iii, 287.

Coquetry, flirtation and coyness, differentiated, xiii, 235.

Corday, Charlotte, i, 75; assassination of Marat by, vii, 227.

Coriolanus, Shakespeare, i, 317.

Corn Laws, John Bright on the, ix, 216.

Cornwall, Barry, v, 55.

Cornwallis, General, Washington's friendship for, iii, 27; monument of, i, 314; quoted, iii, 242.

Corot, Camille, iv, 339; early efforts of, vi, 187; compared with other painters of the Barbizon School, vi, 217; good-nature of, vi, 198; friend of Millet, iv, 281; landscapes of, vi, 137; life of, at Barbizon, vi, 212; parents of, vi, 193; poetical character of, vi, 204; style of, vi, 214; Constable, the English painter, and, vi, 201; Claude Lorraine and, vi, 201; Achille Michallon and, vi, 198; Jean Francois Millet and, vi, 213; George Moore and, vi, 205; Turner compared with, vi, 189; Walt Whitman compared with, vi, 190; letter to Stevens Graham, vi, 187, 205; at the siege of Paris, vi, 190; tribute to his mother, vi, 198.

Corporal punishment, v, 75.

Correggio, iv, 99; Leonardo and, vi, 233; John Ruskin and, vi, 222; place of, among artists, vi, 244; "putti" of, vi, 240; The Day, vi, 222; Ludwig Tieck on, vi, 220.

Correggio, village of, vi, 236.

Correlation of forces, law of, xii, 272.

Cortelyou, George B., xi, 181.

Corwin, Tom, on Mexico, xi, 149.

Cosmic consciousness, vii, 292.

Cosmic urge, the, x, 304.

Cosmos, Humboldt, xii, 159.

Cotter's Saturday Night, Burns, i, 69; v, 104.

Cotton, Rev. John, ix, 294; ix, 338.

Country, advantages of, ii, 239; liberty of the, iii, 280; life in the, xi, 171.

Country Doctor, The, Balzac, xiii, 276.

Courage, v, 174; vi, 25.

Courtesy compared with genius, ii, 49.

Courtier, Castiglione, v, 258.

Covenant, of grace, ix, 346; of works, ix, 346.

Covetousness, v, 238.

Cowden-Clarke, Mary, ii, 233.

Cowley's Elegy on Sir Anthony Van Dyck, iv, 172.

Craik, Dr., Washington's acquaintance with, iii, 26.

Crane, Stephen, ii, 253; xiv, 80; Aubrey Beardsley compared with, vi, 73; Frederic Chopin compared with, xiv, 81; Chancellor Symms and, v, 300.

Cranks, v, 111.

Crapsey, Dr. Algernon S., on truth, xi, 319.

Crassus and Pompey, vii, 50.

Crawford, Captain Jack, x, 249.

Creation, Christian view of, xii, 98.

Cremation, i, 230.

"Cretinous wretch," i, 95.

Crimean war, Dore's illustrations of, iv, 338.

Crisis, The, Winston Churchill, vii, 21.

Crisis, The, Thomas Paine, ix, 159.

Criticism, Johnson on, v, 147.

Critique of Pure Reason, Kant, viii, 169.

Crito and Socrates, viii, 28, 35, 37.

Crivelli, Lucrezia, Leonardo's painting of, vi, 54.

Cromwell, Oliver, i, 81; at the execution of Sir Walter Raleigh, ix, 309; Thomas Carlyle on, ix, 305; Paul Jones compared with, ix, 331; mother of, ix, 317; Parliamentary experiences of, ix, 313; parents of, ix, 305; referred to, i, 303; rule of, ix, 332; Shakespeare and, ix, 307.

Cromwell, Richard, ix, 334.

Crookes tube, viii, 359.

Crosby, Ernest, viii, 53.

Crossing of the Bar, Tennyson, v, 90.

Crotona, Italy, home of the Pythagorean School, x, 84.

Crucifixion of St. Peter, Michelangelo, iv, 34.

Crucifixion, The, Rubens, iv, 102.

Cryptograms, vi, 65.

Culture, vii, 314; ix, 191; the pursuit of, viii, 104; religion of, ix, 188, 192.

Cunningham, Allan, on Gainsborough, vi, 131.

Curie, Madame, Herbert Spencer and, viii, 359.

Curtis, George William, ii, 39, 286; v, 254; vii, 409; as an orator, vii, 314; Brook Farm and, viii, 402;

Lincoln and, i, 165; Lowell on, viii, 87.

Custom, tyranny of, v, 205.

Cynicism, i, 240.

Dalton, Richard, and Reynolds, iv, 306.

Damascus, iii, 41.

Damocles, the sword of, v, 184.

Damrosch, Walter, xi, 282; on Handel, xiv, 253; and Wagnerian opera, xiv, 26.

Dana, Charles A., v, 254; and Brook Farm, viii, 402.

Dancing, v, 236.

Daniels, George H., i, xxx; James Oliver and, xi, 82; Rev. Thomas R. Slicer compared with, xi, 83.

Dante, i, 113, 317; ii, 61; iv, 23, 120; referred to, v, 83; on Aristotle, viii, 109; Archdeacon Farrar on, xiii, 138; Galileo on, xii, 60; Longfellow on, xiii, 110; Dore's illustrations of the works of, iv, 338; father of modern literature, xiii, 139; his description of Beatrice, xiii, 120; influence of, on Milton, xiii, 137; meeting of, with Beatrice, xiii, 127; Hamlet compared with, xiii, 126; Walt Whitman compared with, i, 170.

Danton, ii, 265; Marat and, vii, 224; Thomas Paine and, ix, 172.

Dartmouth College case, iii, 202.

Dart, the almanac-maker, Franklin on, i, 150.

Darwin, Charles, Benjamin Disraeli and, vi, 341; Asa Gray and, xii, 198; Professor Henslow and, xii, 206; Alfred Russel Wallace and, xii, 223, 372; Emerson compared with, xii, 203; Huxley compared with, xii, 313; Huxley on, xii, 198; Swedenborg compared with, viii, 179; quoted, ii, 97; iv, 46; referred to, v, 174, 289; xi, 370; xiii, 78; on Sir Isaac Newton, xii, 34; voyage in the Beagle, xii, 210; wife of, xii, 216.

Darwin, Dr. Erasmus, on the study of medicine, xii, 203.

Daubigny, Charles Francois, French landscape painter, iv, 129, 281.

Daughters of the Revolution, xi, 146.

Daumier, friend of Meissonier, iv, 129.

Davenant, Sir William, and Leonardo compared, vi, 48.

David Copperfield, Dickens, i, 251.

David, Jacques Louis, French historical painter, iv, 229.

David, Michelangelo, iv, 23, 102.

Davidson, John, his dedication of a book, vi, 331.

Davis, David, judge, nominator of Lincoln, iii, 288.

Davis, Jefferson, i, 112; iii, 293.

Davitt, Michael, xiii, 185.

Davy, Sir Humphry, vi, 149; Michael Faraday and, xii, 352; the Wordsworths and, i, 215.

Dawn, Michelangelo, vi, 32.

Day, The, masterpiece of Correggio, vi, 222.

Dead Sea, the, iii, 40.

Death, Carlyle on, v, 85; Johnson's dread of, v, 167; Whitman on, i, 175.

Debating societies, iii, 188.

Debs, Eugene, x, 117.

Debtors' Prison, the, i, 253.

Decimal monetary system, iii, 75.

Declaration of Independence, Jefferson's part in, iii, 75.

De Clementia, Seneca, ix, 201.

Dedications, vi, 331.

Defense of Guinevere, The, William Morris, v, 13.

Defense of Idlers, A, Stevenson, xiii, 16.

Defensio Secunda, Milton, v, 128.

Definition, religion by, ix, 188.

Degradation and woman, vi, 74.

De Keyser, rival of Rembrandt, iv, 68.

Delacroix, Ferdinand, French painter, iv, 230.

De l'Allemagne, Madame de Stael, ii, 179.

Delaroche, friend of Millet, iv, 271; Meissonier and, iv, 136.

Delftware, xiii, 52.

Delices, home of Voltaire, viii, 314.

Delilah, i, 75.

Delium, the battle of, viii, 31.

Delsarte, Seneca compared with, viii, 56; quoted, iii, 121.

Democracy, Shakespeare's limitations regarding, i, 179.

Demosthenes, i, 248, 306; iii, 188; v, 162.

Denominations in religion, origin of, ix, 19.

Denslow's dandies, iv, 67.

Dentists, v, 207; vi, 70.

Departure of the Pilgrims, The, Robert Weir, vi, 343.

Depew, Chauncey, on Scotch humor, xiii, 11; quoted, xiv, 238.

De Quincey, life at Dove Cottage, i, 212; referred to, iii, 130.

Descartes' Meditations, viii, 226.

Descent From the Cross, Rubens, iv, 102.

Deschaumes, friend of Meissonier, iv, 129.

Deserted Village, Goldsmith, ii, 232; iii, 256; selections from, i, 283.

Desire, suppression of, xii, 89.

De Stael, Madame, father of, ii, 163; mother of, ii, 165; appearance of, ii, 168; charm of, ii, 169; marriage of, ii, 171; literary efforts of, ii, 173; religion of, ii, 176; exile of, ii, 181; death of, ii, 182; Swiss home of, ii, 183; conflicts of, with Napoleon, ii, 180; referred to, viii, 216.

De Tocqueville, recipe for success, x, 319.

Development, arrested, v, 72.

Devotion, v, 238.

Devotional Exercises, Harriet Martineau, ii, 79.

DeWet, Christian, Boer leader, ix, 107.

Dewey, John, x, 249.

Dial, The, Thoreau's contributions to, viii, 421; Theodore Parker's contributions to, ix, 293.

Dialogue, The, Galileo, xii, 79.

Diana Bathing, Rembrandt, iv, 68.

Diary of John Adams, iii, 81.

Diary of John Quincy Adams, iii, 210.

Diaz, friend of Millet, iv, 281.

Dickens, Charles, i, 57, 236, 248, ii, 119; v, 97; birthplace of, i, 196; education of, i, 248; early life of, i, 249; as a playwright, i, 249; popularity of, i, 249; American tour of, i, 250; the London of, i, 251; characters of, i, 267; Robert Browning and, v, 55; his idea of betterment, xi, 15; Thackeray's estimate of, i, 228; Voltaire compared with, viii, 283; on the boarding-school, ix, 135; on Oliver Cromwell, ix, 317; on Preraphaelitism, xiii, 252.

Diderot, quoted, ii, 174; on Erasmus, x, 152; on Rousseau, ix, 386.

Dido Building Carthage, painting, i, 129.

Diet of Worms, Luther at the, vii, 143.

Dignity, xiv, 304.

Dilettante Society, the, iv, 302.

Dilettante, Whistler on the, vi, 353.

Diminishing returns, law of, x, 308.

Diminutives, use of, iv, 5.

Diodati, friend of Milton, v, 127.

Diogenes, viii, 19; Alexander the Great and, viii, 96; influence of, viii, 204.

Diotalevi Madonna, Perugino, vi, 27.

Diplomacy, women and, v, 114.

Dipsy Chanty, Kipling's, ii, 75.

Disagreeable girl, the, described, xiii, 113.

Discipline, Thomas Arnold on, x, 231; the parental idea of, vi, 160.

Discontent, xiv, 77.

Discord, uses of, vi, 329.

Disestablishment, i, 114.

Dispute, The, Raphael, vi, 32.

Disraeli, Benjamin, xii, 199; ancestry of, v, 322; education of, v, 324; personality of, v, 325; literary efforts of, v, 327; political life of, v, 331; marriage of, v, 338; Chancellor of the Exchequer, v, 340; Prime Minister, v, 340; Coningsby, v, 341; Contarini Fleming, v, 324; Endymion, v, 342; Lothair, v, 342; Sybil, v, 341; Tancred, v, 341; Vivian Gray, v, 324; attitude toward Free Trade, v, 340; Agassiz compared with, v, 338; Mrs. Austen and, v, 327; Lady Blessington and, v, 333; Bulwer-Lytton and, v, 333; Lord Byron and, v, 324; Froude on, v, 326; Mrs. Wyndham Lewis and, v, 333; Macaulay compared with, v, 197; Mephisto compared with, v, 320; Thomas Moore and, v, 333; Lady Morgan and, v, 333; Napoleon compared with, v, 321; O'Connell and, v, 336; Count d'Orsay and, v, 333; Pitt and, v, 331; Voltaire compared with, viii, 295; N. P. Willis on, v, 329; Mrs. Willyums and, v, 344; on Cobden, ix, 140; on Charles Darwin, v, 341; on democracy, xi, 255; on the Established Church, xii, 155; on initiative, xiv, 152; on Dr. Jowett, viii, 351; on love, xiii, 158; quoted, iv, 160; v, 41; xiii, 408.

Disraeli, Isaac, v, 322.

Dissection, iv, 59.

Divine Comedy, The, Dante, xiii, 134.

Divine passion, the, ii, 36; iv, 242.

Divine right of kings, ii, 83; v, 291.

Divinity, idea of, vi, 49.

Divinity of business, xi, 14.

Division of labor, iii, 99.

Divorce, i, 111; Milton on, v, 130; women and, viii, 133; Voltaire on, viii, 290.

Dixon, photographer of animals, ii, 125.

Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde, Stevenson, xiii, 27.

Doctors, v, 203; Kant on, viii, 162.

Dodo, Edward F. Benson, i, 148.

Dogmatism, vi, 348; x, 292.

Dog-star, influence of, v, 103.

Doll's House, Ibsen, xiii, 112.

Don Juan, referred to, iii, 176; Byron compared with, v, 221.

Donnelly, Ignatius, vi, 65.

Donniges, Helene von, xiii, 363.

Donnybrook Fair, ix, 252; spirit of, xii, 337.

Dore Gallery in London, the, iv, 344.

Dore, Gustave, early life of, iv, 332; "the child illustrator," iv, 336; life in Paris, iv, 338; love for his mother, iv, 339; ability as a musician, iv, 340; decorated with the Cross of the Legion of Honor, iv, 340; characteristics of his art, iv, 341; his visit to England, iv, 344; presented to Queen Victoria, iv, 345; death of, iv, 346.

Dorset, poet, contemporary of Addison, v, 249.

Douglas, Fred, vii, 409.

Draco, laws of, ii, 20.

Drake, Edwin L., xi, 370.

Drake, English admiral, iv, 81.

Draper, J. W., historian, v, 94.

Dream of Fair Women, A, Tennyson, v, 78.

Dream of John Ball, A, William Morris, v, 23.

Droll Stories, Balzac, xiii, 300.

Drummond, Henry, referred to, v, 290.

Drum-Taps, Whitman, i, 175.

Drunkard's home, the, xiv, 234.

Dryden, Addison and, v, 246; Shakespeare and, i, 124; his opinion of Shakespeare, i, 134.

Duality of the human mind, i, 113.

Duane, James, New York's first Continental Mayor, iii, 238.

Dumas, Alexandre, iv, 249; friend of Meissonier, iv, 126; a negro, x, 205; on Garibaldi, ix, 115.

Dunciad, Pope, i, 179; vi, 329.

Dunkards, the, ii, 189.

Duplicity, evils of, vii, 371.

Durer, Albrecht, xii, 119; vi, 259; Martin Luther and, vii, 139; Moses compared with, x, 37; on Erasmus, x, 157.

Duse, Eleanor, xiv, 127.

Dutch, industry of, iv, 42.

Dyer, Mary, execution of, ix, 365; Governor Endicott and, ix, 363; Anne Hutchinson and, ix, 359.

Dynamic force, iv, 193.

Earth, early notions regarding the, xii, 92.

East Aurora, home of Vice-Pres. Fillmore in, iii, 270; racetracks of, xi, 291; village of, i, p xxiv; ii, p ix.

East India Company, the, v, 189.

Eastlake, Sir Charles, the artist, grave of, i, 231.

East, religion of the, ii, 18.

Ecce Labora, motto of St. Benedict, x, 318.

Eccentricities of genius, i, 97.

Ecclesiastes, Book of, compared with Meissonier's Conversations, iv, 141.

Economics, v, 94; religion and, ix, 192.

Economy, blessings of, iv, 289.

Economy of the Universe, The, Swedenborg, viii, 194.

Ecstasy, x, 208; an essential of genius, iv, 253.

Eddy, Mary Baker, characteristics of, x, 336; founder of Christian Science, x, 329; marriages of, x, 333; Julius Caesar compared with, x, 360; Hypatia compared with, x, 280; Jesus compared with, x, 361; Shakespeare compared with, x, 338; Herbert Spencer and, viii, 189; Swedenborg and, x, 355; Swedenborg compared with, viii, 190.

Eden, Garden of, ii, 111; iii, 282.

Edgeworth, Miss, Jane Austen compared with, ii, 245.

Edison, Thomas A., ii, 238; xi, 196; xii, 21; prophecy of, regarding 20th century, i, 320; mother of, i, 321; birthplace of, i, 323; early life of, i, 324; first invention of, i, 325; success of, i, 328; some inventions of, i, 329; appearance of, i, 330; humor of, i, 337; position of, in history, i, 341; age of, i, 345; Leonardo compared with, vi, 41; on science, xi, 386; quoted, vi, 41.