Let us consider this aspect of the subject a little more closely.  In the first place, the proper basis for a firm structure is wanting.  The knowledge of the notes cannot afford a proper basis, except in so far as it is of service in the execution of a piece.  Of what use are the notes to a singer, if he has no attack, and does not understand the management of the voice? of what use to the piano-learner, if he has no touch, no tone on the piano-forte.  Is this to be acquired by playing the notes?  But how then is it to be learned?

One thing more.  Owing to an over-zeal for education, children are kept in school from seven to ten hours in a day, and then they are required to work and commit to memory in their free hours, when they ought to be enjoying the fresh air.  But when are they then to have their piano lessons?  After they have escaped from the school-room, and consequently when the children are exhausted and their nerves unstrung.  What cruelty!  Instead of bread and butter and fresh air, piano lessons!  The piano ought to be studied with unimpaired vigor, and with great attention and interest, otherwise no success is to be expected.  Besides this, much writing, in itself, makes stiff, inflexible fingers.  But when is the child to find time for the necessary practice of the piano lessons?  Well, in the evening, after ten o’clock for refreshment, while papa and mamma are in bed!  And now, after the school-days are happily over, and the children have possibly retained their red cheeks, then their occupations in life lay claim to their time; or, if they are girls, they are expected to busy themselves with embroidery, knitting, sewing, crochet, making clothes, house-work, tea parties, and alas! with balls; and now, too, comes the time for lovers.  Do you imagine that the fingers of pupils sixteen years old can learn mechanical movements as easily as those of children nine years old?  In order to satisfy the present demands in any degree, the technique should be settled at sixteen.  Under all these circumstances, we find the best teachers become discouraged, and fall into a dull routine, which truly can lead to no success.

In conclusion, I beg you to invite the piano teacher, Mr. Strict, to whom you have confided the instruction of your only daughter, Rosalie, to pay me a visit, and I will give him particular directions for a gradual development in piano-playing, up to Beethoven’s op. 109 or Chopin’s F minor concerto.  But I shall find him too fixed in his own theories, too much of a composer, too conceited and dogmatic, and not sufficiently practical, to be a good teacher, or to exert much influence; and, indeed, he has himself a stiff, restless, clumsy touch, that expends half its efforts in the air.  He talks bravely of etudes, scales, &c.; but the question with regard to these is how they are taught.  The so-called practising of exercises, without having previously formed a sure touch, and carefully and skilfully fostering