During one of the rehearsals I asked Spontini why he, who, as a rule, made such very effective use of the trombone, should have left it entirely out in the magnificent triumphal march of the first act.  Very much astonished he asked:  ’Est-ce que je n’ai pas de trombones?’ I showed him the printed score, and he then asked me to add the trombones to the march, so that, if possible, they might be used at the next rehearsal.  He also said:  ’J’ai entendu dans votre Rienzi un instrument, que vous appelez Basse-tuba; je ne veux pas bannir cet instrument de l’orchestre:  faites m’en une partie pour la Vestale.’  It gave me great pleasure to perform this task for him with all the care and good judgment I could dispose of.  When at the rehearsal he heard the effect for the first time, he threw me a really grateful glance, and so much appreciated the really simple additions I had made to his score, that a little later on he wrote me a very friendly letter from Paris in which he asked me kindly to send him the extra instrumental parts I had prepared for him.  His pride would not allow him, however, to ask outright for something for which I alone had been responsible, so he wrote:  ’Envoyez-moi une partition des trombones pour la marche triomphale et de la Basse-tuba telle qu’elle a ete executee sous ma direction a Dresde.’  Apart from this, I also showed how greatly I respected him, in the eagerness with which, at his special request, I regrouped all the instruments in the orchestra.  He was forced to this request more by habit than by principle, and how very important it seemed to him not to make the slightest change in his customary arrangements, was proved to me when he explained his method of conducting.  He conducted the orchestra, so he said, only with his eyes:  ’My left eye is the first violin, my right eye the second, and if the eye is to have power, one must not wear glasses (as so many bad conductors do), even if one is short-sighted.  I,’ he admitted confidentially, ’cannot see twelve inches in front of me, but all the same I can make them play as I want, merely by fixing them with my eye.’  In some respects the arbitrary way in which he used to arrange his orchestra was really very irrational.  From his old days in Paris he had retained the habit of placing the two oboists immediately behind him, and although this was a fad which owed its origin to a mere accident, it was one to which he always adhered.  The consequence was that these players had to avert the mouthpiece of their instruments from the audience, and our excellent oboist was so angry about this arrangement, that it was only by dint of great diplomacy that I succeeded in pacifying him.