278.—ONE KIND OF CRITICISM.
Cherubini was able to make use of a species of criticism that was pointed enough, and yet was of a kind that could give no one excuse for blaming his sharpness of tongue. When a disagreeable topic was introduced or when that was brought to his notice that he felt deserved his condemnation, he retired into silence and could not be persuaded to open his mouth on the subject.
Halévy was a favorite pupil of this celebrated French composer, and on one occasion asked the old master to go with him to hear one of Halévy's operas. At the end of the first act he asked Cherubini how he liked it.
No reply.
At the end of the second act he repeated his question with more emphasis. Still no reply.
"Will you not give me an answer?"
Cherubini was still silent.
Halévy then became so enraged that he got up and left the box, muttering indignation at his teacher's sitting therefor two hours without deigning to say a word.
Afterward a reconciliation was effected and Cherubini was prevailed upon to point out those points in the opera that caused him to make such a severe, though such a silent, criticism. Cherubini might, in this respect, serve for a model for the numerous musical critics who afflict their friends and the public with their uneducated inanities. He was silent because he knew so much. They are verbose because they know so little.