“For God’s sake go on with your novel! Work is the sole cure for _les misères de la vie humaine_. Besides, it gives you independence. “You will say you have _no time_ for writing because you are occupied all day with Kolya. All the same, I repeat: Write, write, write! I might offer myself as an example. I used to have six hours’ exhausting teaching at the Conservatoire, besides living with Rubinstein--whose ways hindered me exceedingly--in a house next door to the Conservatoire, whence was borne the sound of unceasing scales and exercises which made it difficult to compose. Your occupations with Kolya may be somewhat heavier than my theory classes, but still I say, Write! Meanwhile I embrace you, dear Modi! What does anything matter when people love as I love you and you love me (forgive my self-assurance)!” PART V I 1878-1879 When in 1877 Tchaikovsky declined to act as delegate for the Paris Exhibition, the office was accepted by Nicholas Rubinstein, who, in September, 1878, gave four important concerts at the Trocadéro, the programmes of which were drawn exclusively from the works of Russian composers. Tchaikovsky was represented by the following works: the Pianoforte Concerto (B♭ minor), _The Tempest_, _Chant sans Paroles_ (played by Nicholas Rubinstein), and “Serenade and Valse” for violin (played by Bartzevich). The success of these compositions, especially of the Concerto, thanks to Rubinstein’s artistic interpretation, was so great that, judging by the opinions of Tchaikovsky’s friends and opponents, the chief interest of all four concerts centred in them. Eye-witnesses declare they never saw such enthusiasm in any concert-room as was displayed on the first evening after the performance of the B♭ minor Concerto. The work was repeated with equal success at the fourth concert. The Paris Press accorded the warmest greeting to Tchaikovsky, whose name was as yet almost unknown to them, the most appreciative criticisms being expended upon the Concerto. _The Tempest_ came in for its share of applause, while the violin pieces were not so well received. The importance of Tchaikovsky’s success was, however, greatly overrated, both by himself and all his friends, including N. Rubinstein. They none of them realised that Paris forgets as lightly as it warms to enthusiasm. Scarcely six months elapsed before _The Tempest_, which had delighted the Parisian public at the Trocadéro, was received with suspicion and curiosity, as the unknown work of an unknown composer of queer Russian music.