s will surprise many in the case
of so sensible a woman--took us to the theatre. Two of our relatives,
Frau Amalie Beer and our beloved Moritz von Oppenfeld, subscribed for
boxes in the opera-house, and when they did not use them, which often
happened, sent us the key.

So as a boy I heard most of the operas produced at that time, and I
saw the ballets, of which Frederick William IV was especially fond, and
which Taglioni understood how to arrange so admirably.

Of course, to us children the comic "Robert and Bertram," by Ludwig
Schneider, and similar plays, were far more delightful than the grand
operas; yet even now I wonder that Don Giovanni's scene with the statue
and the conspiracy in the Huguenots stirred me, when a boy of nine or
ten, so deeply, and that, though possessing barely the average amount of
musical talent, Orpheus's yearning cry, "Eurydice!" rang in my ears so
long.

That these frequently repeated pleasures were harmful to us children
I willingly admit. And yet--when in after years I was told that I
succeeded admirably in describing large bodies of men seized by some
strong excitement, and that my novels did not lack dramatic movement
or their scenes vividness, and, where it was requisite, splendour--I
perhaps owe this to the superb pictures, interwoven with thrilling
bursts of melody, which impressed themselves upon my soul when a child.

Fortunately, the outdoor life at Keilhau counteracted the perils which
might have arisen from attending theatrical performances too young. What
I beheld there, in field and forest, enabled me in after life, when I
desired a background for my stories, not to paint stage scenes, but take
Nature herself for a model.

I must also record another influence which had its share in my creative
toil--my early intercourse with artists and the opportunity of seeing
their work.

The statement has been made often enough, but I should like to repeat
it here from my own experience, that the most numerous and best impulses
which urge the author to artistic development come from his childhood.
This law, which results from observing the life and works of the
greatest writers, has shown itself very distinctly in a minor one like
myself.

There was certainly no lack of varied stimulus during this early period
of my existence; but when I look back upon it, I become vividly aware of
the serious perils which threaten not only the external but the internal
development of the childre