h he was, more
than any man, the founder, which completes her system of universal
education. He had served the State as her chief magistrate. And in every
work of life he served the Nation as her first citizen. These varied
lines of duty--in which "he neglected no branch, but did about equally
well in all"--were fitly called to men's memories, as they saw the
circle of distinguished friends and fellow-laborers who met around his
grave.

FOOTNOTES:

[C] "For if one has anything worth writing, it is really worth while to
write it so it can be read."--_Address at Barre._

[D] In another scrap of his reminiscences, he says: "The oldest
political event of which I have any recollection is that of the _quasi_
French War of 1798. This I remember only in connection with the family
talk of the price of flour, which it was said would cost twenty dollars
a barrel. As we used principally brown bread, this was of less
consequence; although the price of Indian corn and meal was probably
increased also."

[E] Mr. Hedge, with whom this was a favorite passage.

NOTES OF A PIANIST.

II.

Written without method, dotted down carelessly and _currente calamo_ on
the leaves of my pocket-book, the notes I now publish were never
intended to be read by any one but myself. A wanderer for many long
years, I have contracted the habit of making daily memoranda of the
fleeting, evanescent impressions of my travels, and thus giving them a
more tangible form. These notes, drawn up hastily and for myself alone,
have no literary merit whatever, but they most unequivocally tell the
truth. Is this an adequate compensation for the numerous negligences of
style which criticism may discover in them? You answer my question
affirmatively, my dear M----. Be that as it may, these reminiscences of
travel have often solaced the ennui and fatigue of my erratic life. In
writing of the present, the bitterness of the past vanished; and again,
if the present were tedious or fraught with care, I reverted to the
sunny pages of the time that is no more, and revived the sweet emotions
of the long-forgotten past.

Under your patronage I now place these poor leaves. They have been the
partners of my joys and my griefs, of my toils and my leisure, during
the last three years that have whirled me relentlessly in that most
monotonous, yet agitated circle, yclept "a life of concerts." Should you
find evidence too flagrant, even for your prepossessed eyes, of the