t they carried out its
precepts. There had naturally always been plenty of others as well; but
these were comparatively powerless: they could give their pupils
neither imposing certificates, nor gala public performances, such as
the PRUFUNGEN, and, for the most part, they flourished unknown. This
was previous to the arrival of Schrievers. It was now about a year and
a half ago that his settling in Leipzig had caused a flutter in musical
circles. Then, however, he had been forgotten, or at least remembered
only at intervals, when it was heard that he had caught another fish,
in the shape of a renegade pupil.

Schrievers was a burly, red-bearded man, still well under middle age,
and possessed of plenty of push and self-confidence. It soon transpired
that he was an out-and-out champion of modern ideas in music; for, from
the first, he was connected with a leading paper, in which he made his
views known. He had a trenchant pen, and, with unfailing consistency,
criticised the musical conditions of Leipzig adversely. The progressive
LISZTVEREIN, of which he was soon the leading spirit, alone escaped;
the opera, bereft of Nikisch, and the Gewandhaus, under its gentle and
aged conductor, were treated by him with biting sarcasm. But his chief
butt was the Conservatorium, and its ancient methods. He asserted that
not a jot of the curriculum had been altered for fifty years; and its
speedy downfall was the sole result to be expected and hoped for. The
fact that, at this time, some seven hundred odd students were enrolled
on its books went far to discredit this pious hope; but, nevertheless,
Schrievers harped always on the same string; and just as perpetual
dropping wears a stone, so his continued diatribes ate into emotional
and sensitive natures. He began to attract a following, and,
simultaneously, to make himself known as a pupil of Liszt. This brought
him a fresh batch of enemies. Even a small German town is seldom
without its Liszt-pupil, and in Leipzig several were settled, none of
whom had ever heard of Martin Schrievers. They refused to admit him to
their jealous clique. In their opinion, he belonged to that goodly
class of persons, who, having by hook or by crook, contrived to spend
an hour in the Abbe of Weimar's presence, afterwards abused the sacred
narre of pupil. He was hated by these chosen few with more vigour than
by the conservative pedagogues, who, naturally enough, saw the ruin of
art in all he did.

Various