various private classes at the Royal Academy, and hear a number of
pupils in recital.

In appearance Matthay is a striking personality. His head and features
recall pictures of Robert Louis Stevenson. His tall, muscular form has
the stoop of the scholar; and little wonder when one remembers he must
sit in his chair at work day in and day out. His somewhat brusk manner
melts into kind amiability when discussing the topics in which he is
vitally interested. In his intercourse with students he is ever kind,
sympathetic and encouraging. They, on their part, treat him with
profound respect.

Matthay believes, and rightly, that the beginning pupil should learn
essentials of note values, rhythm, time, ear-training and so on, before
attempting to play anything at the piano. When first taken to the
instrument, its mechanism is carefully explained to the learner, and
what he must do to make a really musical tone. He says _(Child's First
Steps)_: "Before you take the very first step in tone production, be
sure to understand that you must never touch the piano without trying to
make music. It is only too easy to sound notes without making music at
all. To make music we must make all the sounds mean something, just as
it is no use to pretend to speak unless the sounds we make with our lips
mean something, that is unless they form reasoned phrases and
sentences."

Here nothing is left vague. Matthay shows clearly how all musical Form
and Shape imply Movement and Progression: the movement of a phrase
toward its cadence; the movement of a group of notes toward a beat or
pulse ahead, or the movement of a whole piece toward its climax, etc.
This original view of his regarding form, which he has advocated for