On other occasions Moscheles plays to the maestro, who insists on having discovered barriers in the “humoristic variations,” so boldly do they seem to raise the standard of musical revolution; his title of the “Grand Valse” he finds too unassuming.  “Surely a waltz with some angelic creature must have inspired you, Moscheles, with this composition, and that the title ought to express.  Titles, in fact, should pique the curiosity of the public.”  “A view uncongenial to me,” adds Moscheles; “however, I did not discuss it....  A dinner at Rossini’s is calculated for the enjoyment of a ‘gourmet,’ and he himself proved to be the one, for he went through the very select menu as only a connoisseur would.  After dinner he looked through my album of musical autographs with the greatest interest, and finally we became very merry, I producing my musical jokes on the piano, and Felix and Clara figuring in the duet which I had written for her voice and his imitation of the French horn.  Rossini cheered lustily, and so one joke followed another till we received the parting kiss and ’good night.’...  At my next visit, Rossini showed me a charming ‘Lied oline Worte,’ which he composed only yesterday; a graceful melody is embodied in the well-known technical form.  Alluding to a performance of ‘Semiramide,’ he said with a malicious smile, ‘I suppose you saw the beautiful decorations in it?’ He has not received the Sisters Marchisio for fear they should sing to him, nor has he heard them in the theatre; he spoke warmly of Pasta, Lablache, Rubini, and others, then he added that I ought not to look with jealousy upon his budding talent as a pianoforte-player, but that, on the contrary, I should help to establish his reputation as such in Leipsic.  He again questioned me with much interest about my intimacy with Clementi, and, calling me that master’s worthy successor, he said he should like to visit me in Leipsic, if it were not for those dreadful railways, which he would never travel by.  All this in his bright and lively way; but when we came to discuss Chevet, who wishes to supplant musical notes by ciphers, he maintained in an earnest and dogmatic tone that the system of notation, as it had developed itself since Pope Gregory’s time, was sufficient for all musical requirements.  He certainly could not withhold some appreciation for Chevet, but refused to indorse the certificate granted by the Institute in his favor; the system he thought impracticable.

“The never-failing stream of conversation flowed on until eleven o’clock, when I was favored with the inevitable kiss, which on this occasion was accompanied by special farewell blessings.”