In the event, the visit to Liszt, which he had dreaded, was a gratifying surprise.  That beneficent but formidable personage received him with kindly courtesy, and had Eugen D’Albert, who was present, play the orchestral part of the concerto which MacDowell had brought with him in manuscript, arranged for two pianos.  Liszt listened attentively as the two young musicians played it through,—­not too effectively,—­and when they had finished he commended it in warm terms.  “You must bestir yourself,” he warned D’Albert, “if you do not wish to be outdone by our young American”; and he praised the boldness and originality of certain passages in the music, especially their harmonic treatment.

What was at that time even more cheering to MacDowell, who had not yet come to regard himself as paramountly a composer, was Liszt’s praise of his piano playing.  He returned to Frankfort greatly encouraged, and he was still further elated to receive soon after a letter from Liszt in which, referring to the first “Modern Suite,” which MacDowell had sent to him, the Abbe wrote: 

“...  Since the foundation of the General Society of German Musicians, the definitive making up of the programs is entrusted to me, and I shall be very glad to recommend the execution of your work.

    “Will you be good enough to give to your master, my old friend,
    J. Raff, the assurance of my highest esteem and admiration.

    “F.  LISZT.

    “Budapest.  April 13, 1882.”

[Illustration:  FACSIMILE OF A LETTER FROM LISZT TO MACDOWELL (SEE PAGE 18)]

The nineteenth annual convention of the Allgemeiner Deutscher Musik-Verein was held that year at Zuerich, from the 9th to the 12th of July; and at the fifth concert of the series, on July 11, MacDowell played his first piano suite.  Both the music and his performance of it were praised.  A contemporaneous account speaks of the composer as “an earnest and modest musician, free from all mannerisms,” who “carried his modesty so far that he played with his notes before him, though he cannot have felt any particular necessity for having them there.”  He “was recalled enthusiastically, and with many bravos, and may be proud of the success he has achieved.”  Until then, as MacDowell confessed, with engaging candour, to Mr. Henry T. Finck, he “had never waked up to the idea” that his music could be worth actual study or memorising.  “I would not have changed a note in one of them for untold gold, and inside I had the greatest love for them; but the idea that any one else might take them seriously had never occurred to me.”  A year later, upon Liszt’s recommendation, the suite and its successor, the “Second Modern Suite,” op. 14, were published at Leipzig by the famous house of Breitkopf and Haertel.  “Your two pianoforte suites,” wrote Liszt from Budapest, in February of that year, “are admirable.  I accept the dedication of your concerto with sincere pleasure and thanks.”  The suites were the first of MacDowell’s works to appear in print.[1]