erness beneath. One day a child
of great talent was brought by his father, a poor man, to see Cherubini.
The latter's first exclamation was: "This is not a nursing hospital for
infants." Relenting somewhat, he questioned the boy, and soon discovered
his remarkable talents. The same old man was charmed and caressed the
youngster, saying, "Bravo, my little friend! But why are you here, and
what can I do for you?" "A thing that is very easy, and which would make
me very happy," was the reply; "put me into the Conservatory." "It's a
thing done," said Cherubini; "you are one of us." He afterward said to
his friends playfully: "I had to be careful about pushing the questions
too far, for the baby was beginning to prove that he knew more about
music than I did myself."

His merciless criticism of his pupils did not surpass his own modesty
and diffidence. One day, when a symphony of Beethoven was about to be
played at a concert, just prior to one of his own works, he said, "Now I
am going to appear as a very small boy indeed." The mutual affection of
Cherubini and Beethoven remained unabated through life, as is shown by
the touching letter written by the latter just before his death, but
which Cherubini did not receive till after that event. The letter was as
follows:

Vienna, March 15,1823.

Highly esteemed Sir: I joyfully take advantage of this opportunity to
address you.

I have done so often in spirit, as I prize your theatrical works beyond
others. The artistic world has only to lament that in Germany, at least,
no new dramatic work of yours has appeared. Highly as all your works
are valued by true connoisseurs, still it is a great loss to art not to
possess any fresh production of your great genius for the theatre.

True art is imperishable, and the true artist feels heartfelt pleasure
in grand works of genius, and that id what enchants me when I hear a new
composition of yours; in fact, I take greater interest in it than in my
own; in short, I love and honor you. Were it not that my continued bad
health stops my coming to see you in Paris, with what exceeding delight
would I discuss questions of art with you! Do not think that this is
meant merely to serve as an introduction to the favor I am about to ask
of you. I hope and feel sure that you do not for a moment suspect me of
such base sentiments. I recently completed a grand solemn Mass, and have
resolved to offer it to the various European courts, as it is not my