he was a born pianist. If it had not been for his genius for
composition, he would, without doubt, have been known as a brilliant
and forceful interpreter of the greatest piano literature. But his
compositional bent turned him completely away from mere piano playing.
He was a composer-pianist, and as such he ever desired to be
regarded."

[Illustration: THE HOUSE AT PETERBORO, NEW HAMPSHIRE, WHERE MACDOWELL
SPENT HIS SUMMERS]

As a pianist, as in all other matters touching his own capacities, he
was often tortured by doubts concerning the effect of his
performances. "I shall never forget," recalls his wife, "the first
time he played it [the "Eroica" sonata] in Boston. We all thought he
did it wonderfully. But when I went around to the green-room door to
find him, fearing something might be wrong, as he had not come to me,
he had gone. When I got home, accompanied by two friends, there he was
almost in a corner, white, and as if he were guilty of some crime, and
he said as we came in: 'I can play better than that. But I was so
tired!' We almost wept with the pity of the unnecessary suffering,
which was yet so real and intense. In a short time he was more
himself, and naïvely admitted that he had played three movements well,
but had been a 'd---- fool in one.' I grew to be very used to this as
the years went on, for he could not help emphasising to himself what
he did badly, and ignoring the good."

He left few uncompleted works. There are among his manuscripts three
movements of a symphony, two movements of a suite for string
orchestra, a suite for violin and piano, some songs and piano pieces,
and a large number of sketches. He had schemes for a music-drama on an