learns everything by heart. She may one day be clever, for she
has genius, but on this system she will never improve, nor will
she ever acquire much velocity of finger, for her present method
is sure to make her hand heavy. She will never master what is the
most difficult and necessary, and in fact the principal thing in
music, namely, time; because from her infancy she has never been
in the habit of playing in correct time. Herr Stein and I
discussed this point together for at least two hours. I have,
however, in some degree converted him; he asks my advice now on
every subject. He was quite devoted to Becke, and now he sees and
hears that I can do more than Becke, that I make no grimaces, and
yet play with so much expression that he himself acknowledges
none of his acquaintances have ever handled his pianos as I do.
My keeping so accurately in time causes them all much surprise.
The left hand being quite independent in the tempo rubato of an
adagio, they cannot at all comprehend. With them the left hand
always yields to the right. Count Wolfeck and others, who have a
passionate admiration for Becke, said lately publicly in a
concert that I beat Becke hollow. Count Wolfeck went round the
room saying, "In my life I never heard anything like this." He
said to me, "I must tell you that I never heard you play as you
did to-day, and I mean to say so to your father as soon as I go
to Salzburg." What do you think was the first piece after the
symphony? The concerto for three pianos. Herr Demmler took the
first part, I the second, and Herr Stein the third. I then played
a solo, my last sonata in D, for Durnitz, and afterwards my
concerto in B; then again a solo in the organ style, namely, a
fugue in C minor, then all of a sudden a splendid sonata in C
major, finishing with a rondo, all extempore. What a noise and
commotion there was! Herr Stein did nothing but make faces and