Spiegeler had made himself comfortable, propped his crutch against the easy chair; the spiteful line about his lips, recognisable despite the luxuriant beard, the small dark watchful eyes intimated that some malice was being prepared, but it was no plumed dart, which he this time launched at the singer; he wished to let her feel his superiority, while showing her that she was dependent upon a man who had never troubled himself particularly about her especial art. "My real department," said he, "is the drama; I have only added operatic criticism to it, because our musical men can write nothing but notes. I do not understand much about music; those unfortunate finger exercises disgusted me with the pianoforte, and I have no voice for singing, but I am therefore all the more impressionable, all the freer from prejudice; handicraft is universally the death of art; all men of business are craftsmen, unbiassed only is he who enjoys, and I am thus the fitting exponent of public opinion. What does our great public understand about music? Nothing, absolutely nothing; I assure you it is unbounded hypocrisy of our society that it pretends to be initiated in the secrets of an art, which one must study like the cabala in order to decipher its marks. Nowhere do the charlatans possess so great a field as here-- 'That which cannot declined be Is ta'en for immortality.' People worship the incomprehensible devoutly and do not know that it is everlastingly incomprehensible. On the other hand it is genuine music that electrifies, that penetrates the nerves; and who does not rejoice at a national melody, the notes of which can be caught up and retained while they are hummed around us, or at a piece for the trumpet at which even the horses begin to neigh and raise their heads?" Giulia was indignant at the impudence with which the critical musical guide of the capital confessed his ignorance and claimed admiration for it. "It is not very flattering," said she, "that you study the influence of our art amongst four-footed creatures." "Influence--that of course is the principal thing! Whether a war-horse raises his head at the trumpet's note or Raffaelle's Cecilie at the sound of the harp, originates in one and the same cause--the magic of music! And in order to feel it thoroughly one must be hampered with no theory; music must insinuate itself around us, or rouse us like an elementary power." "You may be right," said Giulia, "and yet they are two quite different matters--feeling the charms of music and writing upon them."