otting of trees,
imparted a pleasant suggestion of the country, whilst the waters of
the canal reflected the blueness of the sky, or, when rippled by the
breeze, lapped the grassy banks with a murmuring sound that was half
sigh, half song. To this spot daily resorted the Mendelssohn children
in company with the occupants of other nurseries in the promenade, and
here amongst the rest might often have been seen little Felix, his
eyes sparkling with merriment, and his black curls tossed by the wind,
as, with surprising quickness of movement and ringing peals of
laughter, he joined with his sister Fanny in the excitement of the
game.

Every encouragement was given to the development of Felix's musical
talent as soon as his fondness for the art made itself apparent. In
company with Fanny he began to receive little lessons on the
pianoforte from his mother when he was about four years old. Then came
a visit to Paris, when Abraham Mendelssohn, taking the two children
with him, placed them under the care of a teacher named Madame Bigot.
Their progress was so satisfactory--for the lady was an excellent
musician and quick to recognise the abilities of her pupils--that on
their return to Berlin it was decided to engage the services of
professional musicians to carry on the instruction in the pianoforte,
violin, and composition as a regular part of the children's education.
There was a continual round of lessons in the Mendelssohn home at this
time, for in addition to music the children were taught Greek, Latin,
drawing, and other subjects; and with so much to get through it was
necessary to begin the day's work at five o'clock. As a consequence of
this close application to study, the children used to long for Sunday
to come round, in order that they might indulge themselves a little
longer in bed. No amount of lessons, however, could detract from the
happiness of a home wherein love was the dominant note, and in which
each strove for the good of all; whilst as for Felix himself, no name
could have been more symbolical of his true nature than that by which
he was called. Nothing served to check the flow of his spirits. Both
in work and play he was thoroughly in earnest--indeed, he regarded
both in the same enjoyable light. He and Fanny were inseparables, and
very soon after he began to compose they were often to be found
laughing heartily together over Felix's attempts at improvisation upon
some incident of a comical nature which