made a great impression and taken people by surprise; I could like it also, but there is too much of it, and it often seems to me positively ludicrous.  What does please me in him is when he sings short pieces—­for instance, andantinos; and he has likewise certain arias which he gives in a manner peculiar to himself.  Let each occupy his proper place.  I fancy that bravura singing was once his forte, which is even still perceptible in him, and so far as age admits of it he has a good chest and a long breath; and then his andantino!  His voice is fine and very pleasing; if I shut my eyes and listen to him, I think his singing very like Meissner’s, only Raaff’s voice seems to me more agreeable.  I speak of the present time, for I never heard either in his best days.  I can therefore only refer to their style or method of singing, for this a singer always retains.  Meissner, as you know, had the bad habit of purposely making his voice tremble at times,—­entire quavers and even crotchets, when marked sostenuto,—­and this I never could endure in him.  Nothing can be more truly odious; besides, it is a style of singing quite contrary to nature.  The human voice is naturally tremulous, but only so far as to be beautiful; such is the nature of the voice, and it is imitated not only on wind instruments, but on stringed instruments, and even on the piano.  But the moment the proper boundary is passed it is no longer beautiful, because it becomes unnatural.  It seems to me then just like an organ when the bellows are panting.  Now Raaff never does this,—­in fact, he cannot bear it.  Still, so far as a genuine cantabile goes, Meissner pleases me (though not altogether, for he also exaggerates) better than Raaff.  In bravura passages and roulades, Raaff is indeed a perfect master, and he has such a good and distinct articulation, which is a great charm; and, as I already said, his andantinus and canzonetti are delightful.  He composed four German songs, which are lovely.  He likes me much, and we are very intimate; he comes to us almost every day.  I have dined at least six times with Count von Sickingen, and always stay from one o’clock till ten.  Time, however, flies so quickly in his house that it passes quite imperceptibly.  He seems fond of me, and I like very much being with him, for he is a most friendly, sensible person, possessing excellent judgment and a true insight into music, I was there again to-day with Raaff.  I took some music with me, as the Count (long since) asked me to do so.  I brought my newly completed symphony, with which, on Corpus Christi day, the Concert Spirituel is to commence.  The work pleased them both exceedingly, and I am also well satisfied with it.  Whether it will be popular here, however, I cannot tell, and, to say the truth, I care very little about it.  For whom is it to please?  I can answer for its pleasing the few intelligent Frenchmen who may be there; as for the numskulls—­why, it would be no great misfortune if they were dissatisfied.  I