Programme . ature that for more than a dozen years allhis music was impregnated by it. His bedside book for many, many years soon after his passion forGiulietta Guicciardi was the Lehr und Erbauungs Buch of underscored show the truth of the assertions just made, andhe copied these lines that they might always be in his sight: Naturecan be justly called the school of the heart; it shows us beyond alldoubt our duty towards God and our Neighbor. I wish therefore tobecome a disciple of this school, and offer my heart to it. Desirous ofself-instruction, I wish to search after the wis
Programme . ature that for more than a dozen years allhis music was impregnated by it. His bedside book for many, many years soon after his passion forGiulietta Guicciardi was the Lehr und Erbauungs Buch of underscored show the truth of the assertions just made, andhe copied these lines that they might always be in his sight: Naturecan be justly called the school of the heart; it shows us beyond alldoubt our duty towards God and our Neighbor. I wish therefore tobecome a disciple of this school, and offer my heart to it. Desirous ofself-instruction, I wish to search after the wisdom that no disillusioncan reject; I wish to arrive at the knowledge of God, and in this knowl-edge I shall find a foretaste of celestial joys. Nature to Beethoven was the country near by, which he couldvisit in his daily walks. If he was an indefatigable pedestrian, he wasnever an Tourisme, a mania of modern Germany car-ried to such an extent with its instinct of militarism that it is clothed. iil©red Costumes, Coats an* DANCING DRESSES A SPECIALTY717 BOYLSTON STREET TELEPHONE. 5818 394 in a uniform (gray green coat with hartshorn buttons, and a shabby-little hat ornamented with a shaving brush *)—tourisme, I say, did notexist at the beginning of the 19th century. When any one undertooka distant journey, it was for business, not for pleasure; but pedestriantours were then very common. M. dIndy draws a picture of the little Wirthschaften in the suburbs ofthe large towns, humble inns not yet ticketed with the pompousbarbarism of restaurant. They were frequented by the bourgeoisie,who breathed the fresh air and on tables of wood ate the habitualsausage and drank the traditional beer. There was a dance hall witha small orchestra; there was a discreet garden with odorous alleys inwhich lovers could walk between the dances. And beyond was theforest where the peasant danced and sang and drank, but the songs anddances were here of a ruder nature. Beethoven
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