ant as the conductor. I gave Beethoven's
_Concerto in C minor_ and one of Mozart's concertos in B flat. There was
some question of my playing at the Societe des Concerts du
Conservatoire, and there was even a rehearsal. But Seghers, who
afterwards founded the Societe St. Cecile, was a power in the affairs of
the orchestra. He detested Stamaty and told him that the Societe was not
organized to play children's accompaniments. My mother felt hurt and
wanted to hear nothing more of it.

After my first concert, which was a brilliant success, my teacher
wanted me to give others, but my mother did not wish me to have a career
as an infant prodigy. She had higher ambitions and was unwilling for me
to continue in concert work for fear of injuring my health. The result
was that a coolness sprang up between my teacher and me which ended our
relations.

At that time my mother made a remark which was worthy of Cornelia. One
day some one remonstrated with her for letting me play Beethoven's
sonatas. "What music will he play when he is twenty?" she was asked. "He
will play his own," was her reply.

* * * * *

The greatest benefit I got from my experience with Stamaty was my
acquaintance with Maleden, whom he gave me as my teacher in composition.
Maleden was born in Limoges, as his accent always showed. He was thin
and long-haired, a kind and timid soul, but an incomparable teacher. He
had gone to Germany in his youth to study with a certain Gottfried
Weber, the inventor of a system which Maleden brought back with him and
perfected. He made it a wonderful tool with which to get to the depths
of music--a light for the darkest corners. In this system the chords are
not considered in and for themselves--as fifths, sixths, sevenths--but
in relation to the pitch of the scale on which they appear. The chords
acquire different characteristics according to the place they occupy,
and, as a result, certain things are explained which are, otherwise,
inexplicable. This method is taught in the Ecole Niedermeuer, but I
don't know that it is taught elsewhere.

Maleden was extremely anxious to become a professor at the
Conservatoire. As the result of powerful influence, Auber was about to
sign Maleden's appointment, when, in his scrupulous honesty, he thought
he ought to write and warn him that his method differed entirely from
that taught in the institution. Auber was frightened and Maleden was not
admitted.

Ou