_Cabinet Pudding._—Put a pint of new milk on to boil with two spoonfuls of sugar and the rind of a fresh lemon; then add it to three well-beaten eggs. Butter a mould, and decorate the bottom and sides with strips of candied peel, stoned raisins, etc. Fill with alternate layers of sliced sponge cake and raisins. Pour the custard over, and let it soak for an hour or so, then cover with buttered paper, and steam the pudding gently for an hour and a half. If this pudding were for eating cold (and it is quite as good so), a little dissolved gelatine should be added to the custard before pouring it over the cake. A few macaroons give a nice flavour to a cold pudding. THE ROMANTICISM OF BEETHOVEN. BY ELEONORE D’ESTERRE-KEELING. The title of this paper will probably surprise many of my readers who have been accustomed to regard Beethoven solely as the king of classic music. I have not set myself so foolish a task as the attempt to prove that this is not his true position. Undoubtedly Beethoven is king of classic music, but—how much more than that he is! It must have struck everyone that there is a certain quality in Beethoven’s music which is absent from that of every other classic composer, a quality which appeals to each one of us personally, and which does not appeal in vain. [Illustration: THE HOUSE WHERE BEETHOVEN WAS BORN.] If we play consecutively three or four Sonates by Haydn or by Mozart, what is almost invariably the result? In each case we like the first one and probably the second one; at the third we begin to feel bored, and at the fourth we shut up the book. And yet how lovely they all are! Haydn takes us to play with the children; Mozart introduces us to the ballroom. But Haydn did not spend his life’s days on a merry-go-round, and Mozart was not perpetually paying compliments. Quite the contrary. Haydn, as we know, never had any children, and that disagreeable wife of his left little happiness for his home. As for Mozart—well, Mozart had a charming wife, but he was so pitifully poor that one winter’s morning, when the snow lay thick on the ground outside, a friendly neighbour, calling in to see how the young couple were getting on, found them dancing a waltz on the bare boards of their scantily furnished room. They had no fire, and this was the only means that they could devise for keeping themselves warm.