rt.
"You are a dear, good lady," said the boy in gratitude, "and when I
grow up I am going to marry you." Liszt never made any such promise as
that. Liszt never offered to marry anybody. But it is too bad that Marie
Antoinette did not hold the lad to his promise. It would have probably
proved a valuable factor for her in the line of longevity; and her
husband's circumstances would have saved her from making that silly
inquiry as to why poor people don't eat cake when they run short of
bread. These moods of merriment continued with Mozart, as they did with
Liszt, all his life--not always manifesting themselves, though, in the
way just described.

As a companion I would choose Mozart--generous, unaffected, kind--rather
than any other musician who ever played, danced, sang or
composed--excepting, well, say Brahms.

* * * * *

South Bend: We take an interest in the lives of others because we
always, when we think of another, imagine our relationship to him. "Had
I met Shakespeare on the stairs I would have fainted dead away," said
Thackeray.

Another reason why we are interested in biography is because, to a
degree, it is a repetition of our own life.

There are certain things that happen to every one, and others we think
might have happened to us, and may yet. So as we read, we unconsciously
slip into the life of the other man and confuse our identity with his.
To put yourself in his place is the only way to understand and
appreciate him. It is imagination that gives us this faculty of
transmigration of souls; and to have imagination is to be universal; not
to have it is to be provincial. Let me see--wouldn't you rather be a
citizen of the Universe than a citizen of Peoria, Illinois, which modest
town the actors always speak of as being one of the provinces?

As I read biography I always keep thinking what I would have done in
certain described circumstances, and so not only am I living the other
man's life, but I am comparing my nature with his. Everything is
comparative; that is the only way we realize anything--by comparing it
with something else. As you read of the great man he seems very near to
you. You reach out across the years and touch hands with him, and with
him you hope, suffer, strive and enjoy: your existence is all blurred
and fused with his.

And through this oneness you come to know and comprehend a character
that has once existed, very much better than the people d