Yesterday evening, as I was sitting here comfortably after the drive, by candlelight, reading M. Guizot, suddenly there arose from the rooms beneath oh such sounds! It was Prince Albert—dear Prince Albert—playing on the organ, and with such master skill as it appeared to me, modulating so learnedly, winding through every kind of bass and chord, till he wound up into the most perfect cadence and then off again, louder and then softer. No tune, and I am too distant to perceive the execution or small touches, so I only heard the harmony; but I never listened with much more pleasure to any music. I ventured at dinner to ask him what I had heard. “Oh, my organ!—a new possession of mine. I am so fond of the organ! It is the first of instruments — the only for expressing one’s feelings—and it teaches to play—for on the organ, a mistake! Oh, such a misery!” and he quite shuddered at the thought of the sostenuto discord ...