OCTOBER 85 



easily all his effects and gradations are produced ! If 

 they were not consummate, we should now call them 

 cheap. I had not seen these rooms in the National 

 Gallery for some years. They are beautifully arranged 

 — so warm, so light, and, alas! so empty. At least, 

 when I was there I wandered alone. How true it is that 

 what we can have always we care for so little, and how 

 we toil as tourists in foreign towns! 



It seems rather ridiculous to have brought back from 

 Germany a French poem. But I heard there, for the 

 first time, one of Tosti's earlier songs, the words of 

 which seemed to me sympathetic and full of charm. 

 They are written by a Comtesse de Castellane, and, as 

 they are very little known apart from the music, I quote 

 them here for the benefit of the non-singing world — 

 which, after all, is rather a large one: 



VOUS ET MOI 



Vos yeux sereins et purs ont voulu me sourire, 

 Votre main comme une aile a caress6 ma main, 



Mais je ne sais trouver, h^las ! rien a vons dire, 

 Car nous ne marchons pas dans le m€me chemin. 



Vous §tes le soleil d'un beau jour qui commence, 

 Et mol la nuit profonde et I'horizon oouvert; 



Vous §tes fleur, fitoile, et joyeuse cadence, 



Vous Stes le printemps, et moi je suis I'hiverl 



Vous buvez les rayons et respirez les roses, 

 Car vous §tes I'aurore, et moi la fin du jour; 



n faut nous dire adieu sans en chercher les causes, 

 Car je suis le regret, et vous etes I'amour. 



There are few acts, in my opinion, so blamable and 

 so selfish as an old man marrying a young girl. He 

 understands life and she does not, and the responsibility 

 rests with him. Of course this does not apply to a 

 woman past thirty who wants a home. 



