that he only meant his abode in that body to be a temporary one.

He was now quite comfortably settled, and began to take a lively interest in what he saw and heard about him. The sounds which before he had known to be present by a sort of attraction to them, he now was able to distinguish. There were two kinds. One was that of sounds which had entered the mind of some one of those present in the evening and had served as the material for some creation. They had entered by the ear and found personality, and indeed, individuality, and having once entered a human soul, were, like our hero, incapable of enjoyment from sources outside of themselves, unless harbored in some form approaching at least the human; for they are no longer pure sounds, but by their abode in man, have acquired something of the character of his soul, and hence require a bodily complement. It is the aspiration of all such, driven out of the mind where they had been first welcomed, to return again to their old haunts; nor do they obtain rest until they achieve their purpose. Perhaps for months or even vears they wander desolately about, separated ach from the dimidium animæ suæ, yet do they sometimes receive a fresh welcome; what

wonder then, that readmitted, they persistently remain, and all day long we work and play and read to the melody which will not away from our minds? These, therefore, had, like our hero, obtained various tenements: one, more fortunate than the rest, in the face and chest of the lovable Mozart; one in the faces that make up the Sistine Madonna; out of the eyes of the two cherubs looked forth others, and the cloud-faces swarmed with them. Some had established themselves in the various personages in the large picture already mentioned. Even the Professor's grandfather's portrait in oil was not without its lodger; and the image of the lively Zouave that stood upon a bracket, surmounted by a feather, housed a very merry sound.

Our

But these were not the only ones. student, in his sound-soul, did gain something from his bereft condition, for he was able to see what would have been forbidden to his merely physical eyes. There were a multitude of sounds present which belonged to no one but themselves, and which never had been inclosed in a human soul; these were such as had, to use a familiar expression, entered one ear and passed out of the other. They had character, for the musician had created them

with a meaning; but not having been granted as yet a responsive creation in the mind of some other, their life was but a germ. The musically creating and the musically receiving mind must be, as it were, married, else the germs are never recognized, they never come into the children's place. Therefore, the student, looking from his perch, could see these crowding upon the keys of the piano, and hovering about the strings of the violins and violoncello. Here was their orphaned home, and if they wandered it was to return again. Yet they were ever wandering, although they knew that there was no hope, until, indeed, new birth should be granted them, and thus a new chance of life. The air of the room, to one whose ear, like the student's now, could perceive it, was resonant with the murmur of these sounds, longing for life. They had such fine affinities that no discords possibly could occur, for only when they made harmony would they touch each other, otherwise they were repelled and nothing could bring them into contact. Let it not be supposed that they were all pitched in one melancholy key. They moved about in their various characters, yet whether subdued or gay, all alike expressed the one thing lacking to them. They moved, some executing

little pirouettes; some in a tender fashion weeping as only little sounds can weep, and glancing across their track came joyous, lighthearted ones. A deep-mouthed one would start from the rendezvous on the violoncello and go rumbling through the air, meeting some fellow from the lower keys of the piano, and they would move in company; on their way they would fall in with a delicate, gossamer-clad sound from the violin, journeying with one like a silver bell in note from the upper keys of the piano. They went mostly in pairs, but many a solitary one kept his own counsel and wandered about whither he would.

The demi-sounds, or those that sought, through human relationship, to ensconce themselves in some palpable form, could see all this, but they could render no help, nor indeed would they leave their tenements, knowing the greater discomforts awaiting them outside. To them the unfortunate ones, shut out from even their imperfect life, were like the spirits who circled about Dante and Virgil in their gloomy visit. It ought before to have been said that in the number of the demi-sounds were found those that had been sent into life through the mimic instruments that made up the orchestra of the Children Symphony which had been per

formed in the evening.

Their abode was

humble indeed, but well chosen, for most of them had sought faces of children in simple oil-prints; the Zouave, to be sure, held the one whom the trumpet had sent out, while one awaked by a violin in the same piece, had entered a cabinet picture by Lambdin of a little girl sewing. All of these more perfect sounds possessed so much of the human soul that they could speak indifferently, making use of the mouths they had at command. Such talking was necessarily very imperfect, and to such refined perceptions as sounds have would not have been altogether agreeable; but their aspirations after humanity overbore all objections, and thus quite a conversation was carried on. A neighbor of the student's first addressed him :

"Meseems, that I have met you before. am from a sonata of Beethoven myself."

"I recollect you," said the student, “though my ears are rather imperfect. Ah! if I but had the ears which I once possessed I should know you better. For myself I am from the Septuor of Beethoven;" he said this with difficulty, for though his sound-nature held sway, his soul-nature made feeble protest, thinking to itself: "I am denying myself!'

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