did. So I discovered many things in listening to him, which he perhaps
could not have explained to me. These facts are incontrovertible and I
have brought many of my colleagues to see the truth of them. More than
this, I have brought many even of my older colleagues who had a
life-time of wrong mental habits to impede them, to realize the truth of
my teachings.

"The work of a teacher should speak for itself. For my own part I never
advertise, for I can point to hundreds of pupils--this is no
exaggeration in the least!--who are constantly before the public, as
concert pianists and successful teachers.

"If there is one thing that rouses me deeply, it is the incompetence of
so many teachers of piano. They say to the pupil: 'You play badly, you
must play better'; but they do not tell the pupil _how_ to play better.
They give doses of études, sonatas and pieces, yet never get at the
heart of the matter at all. It is even worse than the fake singing
teachers; I feel like saying it is damnable!"

It was my privilege to be present at some of Mr. Matthay's private
lessons, given at the Royal Academy. Several young men were to try for
one of the medals, and were playing the same piece, one of the
Strauss-Tausig Valse Caprices.

Matthay listens to a complete performance of the work in hand, then
turns back to the beginning and goes over it again for corrections and
suggestions. He enters into it with absolute devotion, directing with
movements of head and hands as a conductor might direct an orchestra;
sometimes he dashes down a chord in the treble to urge more force; at
other times lays a restraining hand on the player's arm, where the tone