Several people who had the honor of being
present at these choice evenings have spoken to me about them
with enthusiasm.
What a contrast to the tiresome musical soliloquies (I do not
know what other name to give to this invention of mine) with
which I contrived to gratify the Romans, and which I am quite
capable of importing to Paris, so unbounded does my impudence
become! Imagine that, wearied with warfare, not being able to
compose a programme which would have common sense, I have
ventured to give a series of concerts all by myself, affecting
the Louis XIV. style, and saying cavalierly to the public, "The
concert is - myself." For the curiosity of the thing I copy one of
the programmes of the soliloquies for you: -
1. Overture to William Tell, performed by M. L.
2. Reminiscences of the Puritani. Fantaisie composed and
performed by the above-mentioned!
3. Etudes and fragments by the same to the same!
4. Improvisation on themes given - still by the same. And that was
all; neither more nor less, except lively conversation during the
intervals, and enthusiasm if there was room for it.
A propos of enthusiasm, I ought at least to talk to you of St.
Peter's. That is the proper thing to do when one writes from
Rome. But, in the first place, I am writing to you from Albano,
whence I can only discern the dome, and, secondly, this poor St.
Peter's has been so disguised, so embellished by papier-mache
wreaths, horrid curtains at alcoves, etc., etc., all in honor of
the five or six last saints whom His Holiness has canonised, that
I try to put away the recollection of it.
