interests involved, and with great advantage to the composer's financial welfare. When they refused to see this, or seeing it, refused to act as good judgment dictated, then we can only assign stubbornness as the reason. One instance will serve to illustrate our meaning.
Schubert once had an opportunity to obtain the conductorship at a certain opera house. He was sadly in need of such an appointment, as his income, despite his many compositions, was next to nothing. But before the position was awarded, he was to compose and conduct certain music to the satisfaction of the officials. But the composition he presented contained difficulties that were evidently insurmountable, and Schubert was asked to alter it somewhat to make it suitable to the singers and the circumstances. He gruffly refused. After two rehearsals the trouble only seemed to grow worse and at the final full rehearsal an attempt to sing the obnoxious part only resulted in a grand failure.
The manager then announced that the presentation would be postponed and asked Herr Schubert in the meanwhile to make such changes as would insure the performance, especially in the part assigned to one of the soloists. At this Schubert's wrath got the upper hand of his good judgment and shutting up his score with a bang he shouted, "I alter nothing," and left the house, That ended his prospects as an opera director.
113.—CLERICAL WIT.
Good old Father Taylor, when pastor of the Seaman's Bethel, in Boston, was once preaching on "social amusements." As it happened, but unknown to the speaker, Jenny Lind, who was then singing in America, was in his congregation. He roundly denounced card-playing, dancing, the theater, etc., but in speaking of music gave it his unqualified approval. After dwelling on the power of music in the religious service, he paid tribute to the generosity of the great vocalists, especially to "that
