interesting than the following glimpse into that inner life about which men, and especially musicians, are prone to say little:L i s z t’ s M o m e n t s o f C o n t r i t i o n.“ Deep beneath the surface there was in Liszt’s or­ganization a religious trend which manifested itself openly now and then, and there were occasions upon which his contrition displayed itself to an inordinate degree. Joachim Raff, long his intimate friend and associate, told me that these periods were sometimes of considerable duration, and while they lasted he would seek solitude, and, going frequently to church, would throw himself upon the flagstones before a Muttergottesbild, and remain for hours, as Raff ex­pressed it, so deeply absorbed as to be utterly uncon­scious ofevents (sic) occurring in his presence.“ Rubinstein also told me that on one occasion he had been a witness of such an act on the part of Liszt. One afternoon at dusk they were walking to­gether in the cathedral at Cologne, and quite suddenly Rubinstein missed Liszt, who had disappeared in a mysterious way. He searched for quite awhile through the many secluded nooks and corners of the immense building, and finally found Liszt kneeling before a prie-dieu, so deeply engrossed that Rubinstein had not the heart to disturb him, and so left the building alone.”Not less fresh and illuminating is Dr. Mason’s account of his call on Wagner, whose brother had not thought the relationship of suffi­cient honor to mention it, but who gave the young American a let­ter to the exiled composer (at the close of his stay in Leipzig), who was then established in Zurich.Wagner “ looked much more like an American than a Ger­man” to Dr. Mason, and volun­teered such an “ interview” as would have crazed a journal re­porter with joy. He wound up with a present of his autograph.Dr. Mason is not less mindful of the development of music in New York. His own connection with Theodore Thomas in his early days marks the very foun­dation of our modern concert-giving.“ From the time that Thomas took the leadership free and un­trammeled the quartet improved rapidly. His dominating influence was felt and ac­knowledged by us all. Moreover, he rapidly developed a talent for making programs by putting pieces into the right order of sequence, thus avoiding incongru­ities. He brought this art to perfection in the ar­rangement of his symphony concert programs.“ Our viola, Matzka, was also an excellent musician, and for many years the first viola of the Philharmonic Orchestra. Mosenthal, who played second violin, achieved a wide reputation as composer and conductor, in which latter capacity he did splendid work for the Mendelssohn Glee Club. He was also one of the best teachers of piano and violin in New York.T h o m a s a s C o n d u c t o r.“ Thomas’s fame as a conductor has entirely over­shadowed his earlier reputation as a violinist. He had a large tone, the tone of a player of the highest rank. He lacked the perfect finish of a great violinist, but he played in a large, quiet, and reposeful manner. This seemed to pass from his violin-playing into his conducting, in which there is the same sense of large­ness and dignity, coupled, however, with the artistic finish which he lacked as a violinist. He is a very great conductor, the greatest we have ever had here, not only in the Beethoven symphonies and other classical music, but in Liszt, Wagner, and the extreme moderns. W hy should he not conduct Wagner as well as anybody else, or better? Everything is largeabout Wagner, and everything is large about Thomas. His rates of tempo are in accord with those of the most celebrated conductors whom I heard fifty years ago. In modern times the tendency has been toward an increased rate of speed, and this detracts in large measure from the impressiveness of the works, especially those of Mozart, Beethoven, von Weber, and others.“ That Thomas had entire confidence in himself was shown in the outset of his career. One evening, as he came home tired out from his work, and after dinner had settled himself in a comfortable place for a good rest, a message came to him from the Academy of Music, about two blocks away from his house in East Twelfth Street. An opera season was in progress there, and, what was not unusual, the management was in financial difficulties. Anschutz, who was con­ductor of the orchestra, had refused to take the desk unless paid what was due him. The orchestra was in its place, the audience was seated, but there was no conductor. Would Thomas come to the rescue? He had never conducted opera, and the work for the evening’s performance was an opera with which he was unfamiliar. Here was a life’s opportunity, and Thomas was equal to the occasion. He thought for a moment, then said: ‘I will.’ He rose quickly, gothimself into his dress-suit, hurried to the Academy of Music, and conducted the opera as if it were a common experience. He was not a man to say: ‘Give me time until next week.’ He was always ready for every opportunity.”Many were the odd experiences which reached Dr. Mason in his intercourse with the stars who have tasted his hospitality; this of Paderewski has all the value of the unexpected:“‘I am composing a set of variations on “ Yankee Doodle,” ’ said the Polish artist, ‘and shall dedicate them to you.’ He looked at me, and thought he saw a curious expression in my face,— although I was quite unaware of such a thing,— and continued: ‘You don’t like i t !’“ ‘Oh, I do’ I protested, ‘and esteem the dedication as a great honor.’“ ‘I see you don’t,’ he said.“ ‘Well,’ I replied, ‘I already have one “ Yankee Doodle” from Rubinstein, and was thinking that the coincidence of your dedicating me another was very curious, that is all. Let me explain to you that “ Yankee Doodle” does not stand in the same relation to the United States as “ God Save the Queen” to England, “ Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser” to Austria, or the “ Marseillaise” to France. “ Yankee Doodle” was written by an Englishman in derision of us.’ I am afraid that my remarks discouraged him, for he never finished the composition. He played it to meas far as he had progressed with it, and it is certainly the best treatment of the theme I have ever heard. He had given it respectability, and, indeed, he told me that he really liked the tune.”Here is another, in a sadder strain, which brings to our view the figure of the great Russian pianist: “ Just before leaving Weimar I had asked Rubin­stein to write in my autograph-book, and he immedi­ately complied.“ The theme, which he wrote in the key of E-flat major, is characteristic of him. It is strong, and has a vigorous upward movement. It suggests the young man just starting out in life, with the vitality and courage of early manhood. It is dated ‘Weymar, le 5, Juin, 1854.’“ I did not see Rubinstein again until 1873, the year of his visit to this country. Happening in his room one day with my book, the idea occurred to me of asking him to write in it again, under his former signature. For some reason he was averse to doing so, but finally consented. A t a glance the second theme seems like the first, but on examination the difference will appear. He has transposed the theme to E-flat minor, and its character is entirely changed. The young man has reached the summit of the hill and realizes that he is now upon the descent. The allegro maestoso of former years has changed to an adagio, and, as Rubinstein aptly writes, it is ‘not the same.’”BE A M A N .B Y CHARLES C. D R A A .N o t long since I read the fol­lowing epitaph, said to have been found by a European traveler w7hile touring through England:“ Here lies ------ ; he was born aman, but died a grocer.” The thought came to me immediately that it may some day be said of many of our teachers: “ Born a man, but died a musician.”To young teachers, especially those just entering the profession, I put this question: Do you con­sider yourself so qualified that you may be a leader— a helper? You have probably received your diploma from a well-known con­servatory; even graduated with first honors; you may, perhaps, have completed a course under one of the most eminent of teachers. In­tellectually, you may be capable of training those who come to you for instruction. But! are you qualified to be their leader in other ways? There may be many things in themselves innocent (?) for you, but for the young student harmful.Your pupils must look up to you; they must re­spect you; first as a man, then as a musician. Can you, for a moment, forget yourself and do those things which wTould be condemned at once in your pupils? You hold an important position: that of developing your pupil into a well-rounded musician is not all,— far from it; it is your duty to bring out all that is good in him,— character-building is your duty.A man was once asked wThy he did not fit himself for the ministry instead of becoming a physician.“ W hy,” said he, “ is not the medical profession in need of good men too?”He considered that as a physician his power for doing good could be as great as that of a minister of the gospel. Is this not also the privilege of a music- teacher ? This question should be thought of seriously. To believe that it does not concern you, that your talent as a musician is such that it will outweigh all else, may lead you to ruin.Be not like the man who “ died a grocer,” but live so that it may be said of you one day you were not only a musician, but a man.
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