ng at my finger and saying, "Oh!" very
compassionately, he sat down and played the whole three last
movements himself. That was a great deal and showed off his powers.
It was the first time I had heard him, and I don't know which was
the most extraordinary--the Scherzo, with its wonderful lightness
and swiftness, the Adagio with its depth and pathos, or the last
movement, where the whole keyboard seemed to "donnern und blitzen."
There is such a vividness about everything he plays that it does
not seem as if it were mere music you are listening to, but it is
as if he had called up a real, living form, and you saw it
breathing before your face and eyes. It gives me almost a ghostly
feeling to hear him, and it seems as if the air were peopled with
spirits. Oh, he is a perfect wizard! It is as interesting to see
him as it is to hear him, for his face changes with every
modulation of the piece, and he looks exactly as he is playing. He
has one element that is most captivating, and that is a sort of
delicate and fitful mirth that keeps peering out at you here and
there. It is most peculiar, and when he plays that way, the most
bewitching expression comes over his face. It seems as if a little
spirit of joy were playing hide-and-go-seek with you.

At home Liszt doesn't wear his long Abbe's coat, but a short one,
in which he looks much more artistic. His figure is remarkably
slight, but his head is most imposing. It is so delicious in that
room of his! It was all furnished and put in order for him by the
Grand Duchess herself. The walls are pale gray, with a gilded
border running round the room, or rather two rooms, which are
divided, but not separated, by crimson curtains. The furniture is
crimson, and everything is so comfortable--such a contrast to
German bareness and stiffness generally. A splendid grand piano (he
receives a new one every year,) stands in one window. The other
window is always open and looks out on the park. There is a
dovecote just opposite the window, and doves promenade up and down
upon the roof of it, and fly about, and sometimes whirr down on the
sill itself. That pleases Liszt. His writing-table is beautifully
fitted up with things that match. Everything is in
bronze--inkstand, paper-weight, match-box, etc.--and there is
alw