Reicha I know only by sight.  You can imagine how curious I am to make his personal acquaintance.  I have already seen some of his pupils, but from them I have not obtained a favourable opinion of their teacher.  He does not love music, never frequents the concerts of the Conservatoire, will not speak with anyone about music, and, when he gives lessons, looks only at his watch.  Cherubini behaves in a similar manner; he is always speaking of cholera and the revolution.  These gentlemen are mummies; one must content one’s self with respectfully lookingat them from afar, and studying their works for instruction.

In these remarks of Chopin the concerts of the Conservatoire are made mention of; they were founded in 1828 by Habeneck and others and intended for the cultivation of the symphonic works of the great masters, more especially of Beethoven.  Berlioz tells us in his Memoires, with his usual vivacity and causticity, what impressions the works of Beethoven made upon the old gentlemen above-named.  Lesueur considered instrumental music an inferior genre, and although the C minor Symphony quite overwhelmed him, he gave it as his opinion that “one ought not to write such music.”  Cherubini was profoundly irritated at the success of a master who undermined his dearest theories, but he dared not discharge the bile that was gathering within him.  That, however, he had the courage of his opinion may be gathered from what, according to Mendelssohn, he said of Beethoven’s later works:  “Ca me fait eternuer.”  Berton looked down with pity on the whole modern German school.  Boieldieu, who hardly knew what to think of the matter, manifested “a childish surprise at the simplest harmonic combinations which departed somewhat from the three chords which he had been using all his life.”  Paer, a cunning Italian, was fond of letting people know that he had known Beethoven, and of telling stories more or less unfavourable to the great man, and flattering to the narrator.  The critical young men of the new generation were, however, not altogether fair in their judgments; Cherubini, at least, and Boieldieu too, deserved better treatment at their hands.

In 1830 Auber and Rossini (who, after his last opera “Guillaume Tell,” was resting on his laurels) were the idols of the Parisians, and reigned supreme on the operatic stage.  But in 1831 Meyerbeer established himself as a third power beside them, for it was in that year that “Robert le Diable” was produced at the Academic Royale de Musique.  Let us hear what Chopin says of this event.  Speaking of the difficulties with which composers of operas have often to contend he remarks:—­

Even Meyerbeer, who for ten years had been favourably known in the musical world, waited, worked, and paid in Paris for three years in vain before he succeeded in bringing about the performance of his opera “Robert le Diable,” which now causes such a furore.  Auber had got the start of Meyerbeer with his works, which are very pleasing to the taste of the people, and he did not readily make room for the foreigner at the Grand Opera.

And again:—­