f they dared.)

"He was delighted to hear that encouragement was given to the serious
study of the organ at the Leipsic Conservatorio, and he regretted the
decay of church music in Italy. On the subject of Marcello's and
Palestrina's 'sublime creations' he was quite eloquent. When we parted
he made me promise to call on him once more before the day fixed upon to
dine with him. I was happy to do so, and, when I next came, Rossini,
yielding to my request, but not without modestly expressing diffidence
in his own powers, played an Andante of his in B flat, beginning
somewhat in this style:

[Illustration: musical notation]

in which, after the first eight bars, the following interesting
modulation is introduced:

[Illustration: musical notation]

"The piece is what we Germans would call tame. He also showed me two
manuscript compositions, an Introduction and Fugue in C major, and a
sort of pastoral Fantasia with a brilliant Rondo in A major, which I had
to play to him, and, when I added a missing [natural music symbol] to
the MS., he declared it was 'worth gold' to him. Clara, who was with me,
and had already mustered up sufficient courage to sing my
'Fruehlingslied' and 'Botschaft' to Rossini's satisfaction, was obliged
to repeat both songs before the singers, Ponchard and Levasseur, who had
just come in. I accompanied, and, in answer to the Maestro's remark that
I had enough flow of melody to write an opera, I said: 'What a pity that
I am not young enough to become your pupil!' and when, referring to my
playing from his manuscripts, he dubbed me 'King of Pianists,' I told
him that whatever I was, I owed to the old school and the old master
Clementi. At the mention of that name he went to the piano and played
parts of his sonatas by heart.

"On another occasion he would have it there were barricades in my
'Humoristische Variationen,' so boldly did they seem to assail time-worn
traditions; and as for the 'Grande Valse,' he found the title too
unassuming. 'Surely,' he insisted, 'a waltz with some angelic creature
must have inspired you, and _that_ the title ought to express. Titles,
in fact, should pique the curiosity of the public.' That is a view
uncongenial to me; however, I did not discuss it."

At the dinner my father spoke of, the conversation turned on Meyerbeer
and on macaroni. He seemed much attached to both, more though to the
latter, I thought, and to other productions of the Italian chef, than to
the ch