ace. One evening the
guests at the hotel arranged a concert, and to our surprise--for we
knew how diffident he was--Paul, evidently moved by the _genius loci_,
volunteered to take part in it. When the time came he advanced to the
piano through the crowded room and, with an elbow resting on the
instrument, astonished the audience by a few explanatory words. He
said he was going to play the "Ride of the Valkyries," and explained
what Wagner meant to convey by that wild, stormy music. Then seating
himself at the instrument, he proceeded to play the "Ride" from
memory. His execution had a verve whose charm was irresistible. It
was a lovely summer night. Through the open windows of the
concert-room one caught glimpses of the moonlight quivering on the
waters of the swift-flowing Rhine. Nothing could be heard save the
river's melodious roar softened by distance, and this enchanting music
interpreted by one who was saturated with its spirit, both sounds
blending harmoniously like the double pipe of an ancient Greek flute
player. All of us felt the spell of the scene and the occasion.
Everyone listened tense and silent until the descending chromatic
passage at the end when the "Valkyries" vanish into space, the echo of
their laughter dies away, and the "Ride" ends in a sound like the
fluttering of wings in the distance. When Paul rose from the piano the
pent-up feelings of the audience found expression in enthusiastic
applause.

In the spring of 1913, just after he had turned 17, he wrote the
following appreciation of Wagner for the _Llanelly Star_:

The 22nd of May, 1913, marks the centenary of an event of supreme
importance in the annals of music. To-day just one hundred years
ago was born at Leipzig Richard Wagner, king of the music-drama,
who towers above all other operatic composers like some lofty
mountain rising from the midst of a dull and featureless plain.
Such a colossal revolution as was effected by Wagner in Art can
hardly find a parallel in any walk of life. What, in brief, was
the scope of Wagner's reforms? To answer this question it is
necessary to glance at the state in which the opera stood in
pre-Wagner days. From the days of Scarlatti the opera had
consisted of a number of semi-detached solos, duets or choruses
to which tunes were set. These pieces were joined up by any
jumble of notes sung by the characters on the stage, usually with
n