Chapter 5

1800 TO 1830.

Paganini was an epoch-making artist. He revolutionised the art of violin playing, and to his influence, or through his example, were developed the modern French and Belgian schools. While Paganini was a genius, a great musician, and a wonderful violinist, he combined with these qualities that of a trickster, and the exponents of the modern French school adopted some of the less commendable features of Paganini's playing, while the Belgian school followed the more serious lines, and became a much sounder school.

Alard, Dancla, and Maurin were exponents of the French school, while in that of Belgium we have De Bériot, Massart, Vieuxtemps, Léonard, Wieniawski.

Lambert Joseph Massart was born at Liège in 1811, and was first taught by an amateur named Delavau, who, delighted with the remarkable talent displayed by his young pupil, succeeded in securing for him, from the municipal authorities of Liège, a scholarship which enabled him to go to Paris.

On his arrival at the Conservatoire, Cherubini, who was splenetive and rash, refused him admission without assigning any reason for his decision, but Rudolph Kreutzer took upon his shoulders the task of forming the future artist.

Notwithstanding Massart's great talent and excellent capabilities as an artist, he never became a success as a concert player, because of his inordinate shyness, but as a teacher few have equalled him.

Sir Charles Hallé, in his autobiography, tells a good anecdote concerning Massart's shyness and modesty. Massart was to play, with Franz Liszt, a program which included the Kreutzer sonata. Just as the sonata was begun a voice from the audience called out "Robert le Diable," referring to Liszt's brilliant fantasia on themes from that opera, which he had recently composed, and had played several times with immense success. The call was taken up by other voices, and the sonata was drowned. Liszt rose and bowed, and presently, in response to the continued applause, he said: "I am always the humble servant of the public. But do you wish to hear the fantasia before or after the sonata?"

Renewed cries of "Robert" were the only reply, upon which Liszt turned half around to Massart and dismissed him with a wave of the hand, but without a word of excuse or apology. Liszt's performance roused the audience to a perfect frenzy, but Massart nevertheless most dutifully returned and played the Kreutzer sonata, which fell entirely flat after the dazzling display of the great pianist.

Few teachers have formed as many distinguished pupils as Massart, for in 1843 he was appointed professor of violin at the Paris Conservatoire, where his energy, care, exactness, and thoroughness brought him an immense reputation. Lotto, Wieniawski, Teresina Tua, and a host of other distinguished violinists studied under him: among them also was Charles M. Loeffler, of the Boston Symphony Orchestra.

Massart was also an excellent quartet player and gave many delightful chamber concerts, with his wife, who was a pianist. He died in Paris, February 13, 1892.

Charles Auguste de Bériot, who holds a position of great importance in the history of violin playing and composition, was born in 1802 at Louvain. He had the misfortune to be left an orphan at the age of nine. His parents were of noble extraction, but at their death he was left entirely without fortune, and was taken in charge by M. Tiby, a professor of music, who had noticed the little boy's love of the musical art, and had already taught him to such good purpose that he was able even at that time to play one of Viotti's concertos in public so skilfully that he received the hearty applause of the audience. He also took lessons of Roberrechts, one of Viotti's most noted pupils.

De Bériot was a youth of contemplative mind and of high moral character. He formed the acquaintance of the scholar and philosopher Jacotot, who imbued him with principles of self-reliance, and exerted an influence over him which lasted throughout his life.

De Bériot learned from his guide, philosopher, and friend that "perseverance triumphs over all obstacles," and that "we are not willing to do all that we are able to do."

At the age of nineteen De Bériot went to Paris, taking with him a letter of introduction to Viotti, who was then the director of music at the Opéra, and he succeeded in gratifying his greatest ambition, which was to be heard by that illustrious violinist.

Viotti gave him the following advice: "You have a fine style. Give yourself up to the business of perfecting it. Hear all men of talent, profit by everything, but imitate nothing."

De Bériot applied himself assiduously to his studies, entering the Paris Conservatoire and taking lessons of Baillot. In a few months, however, he withdrew from the Conservatoire and relied upon his own resources. He soon began to appear in concerts, generally playing compositions of his own, which won him universal applause by their freshness and originality as much as by his finished execution and large style of cantabile.

In 1826 he went to London from Paris, his first appearance taking place on May 1st, before the Philharmonic Society. Wherever he appeared, either in London or the provinces, he was greeted with enthusiasm, and he established a lasting reputation.

His appearance in England antedated that of Paganini by about five years, and it has been questioned whether the impression which he made would have been less if he had appeared after instead of before the great Italian. It seems, however that De Bériot continued to meet with success even after the advent of Paganini. His playing was distinguished by unfailing accuracy of intonation, great neatness and facility of bowing, grace, elegance, and piquancy.

After travelling for some years he returned to Belgium, where he was appointed solo violin to the King of the Netherlands. He had held the position but a short time when the revolution of 1830 broke out and deprived him of it.

He returned to Paris, and now began the most romantic portion of his life. Madame Malibran, whose brilliant career was then at its height, was singing in opera, and De Bériot became acquainted with her. The acquaintance ripened into the most intimate friendship, and in 1832 a concert company was formed, consisting of Malibran, De Bériot, and Luigi Lablache, the celebrated and gigantic basso. They made a tour of Italy, meeting with the most extraordinary success.

De Bériot and the beautiful Madame Malibran were now inseparable. Malibran had for some years been living apart from her husband, an American merchant, who, with the view of supporting himself by her talents, had married her when on the brink of financial collapse. In 1835 she succeeded in securing a divorce from him, and then she married De Bériot.

A few months after their marriage Malibran was thrown from her horse and sustained internal injuries of such severity that she died after an illness of nine days, and De Bériot became frantic with grief.

More than a year elapsed before he could at all recover from the effects of his irreparable loss, and his first appearance in concert, after this tragic event, was when Pauline Garcia, the sister of Madame Malibran, made her first début in a concert at Brussels given for the benefit of the poor.

In 1841 De Bériot married Mlle. Huber, daughter of a magistrate of Vienna. He returned to Brussels, and became director of the violin classes at the Conservatoire, after which he ceased giving concerts. He remained in this position until 1852, when failing eyesight caused him to retire, and he died at Louvain in 1870.

Before his acquaintance with Madame Malibran, De Bériot was a suitor for the hand of Mlle. Sontag, and her rejection of him threw him into a state of despondency, from which it required the brilliancy and wit of Malibran to rouse him.

De Bériot left a number of compositions which abound in pleasing melodies, have a certain easy, natural flow, and bring out the characteristic effects of the instrument in the most brilliant manner. There are seven concertos, eleven "airs variées," several books of studies, four trios and a number of duets for piano and violin. His "Violin School" has been published in many languages and used a great deal by students.

Delphin Jean Alard was at one time a favourite violinist in France. In 1842 he succeeded Baillot as professor of violin at the Conservatoire in Paris. He was first soloist in the royal band, to which post he was appointed in 1858, and he was presented with the Cross of the Legion of Honour.

Alard was born at Bayonne in March, 1815, and was well taught from his earliest youth. He appeared in concerts at the age of ten, and at twelve entered the Paris Conservatoire, where he became a pupil of Habeneck, while Fétis taught him composition. He was the winner of numerous prizes, and he also wrote a great deal of music for the violin. His greatest pupil was Sarasate.

Alard married the daughter of Vuillaume, one of the best violin makers of France, and through him became the owner of one of the most beautiful Stradivarius violins. Alard died in Paris, February 22, 1881.

Hubert Léonard was born at Bellaire, near Liège, in 1819, but unlike the majority of violinists he did not appear in concerts at an early age, nor did he enter the Paris Conservatoire until he was seventeen. At this time the wife of a wealthy merchant in Brussels took interest in him and provided the means necessary for him to go to Paris. In 1844 he appeared at Leipzig, and created a deep impression by the beauty of his tone and his elegant performance. He travelled through Europe and played chiefly his own compositions, of which there are a great many, but his greatest fame was earned after he was appointed professor at the Brussels Conservatoire, where he had many pupils, of whom the most celebrated is, perhaps, Martin Marsick.

Concerning the merits of Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst there seems to be a wide difference of opinion between various commentators. He was a man of warm, impulsive nature, whose playing was distinguished by great boldness in the execution of technical difficulties of the most hazardous nature. His tone had a peculiar charm, and at the same time his fiery, impetuous nature and uneven disposition led to certain occasional errors in technique and faulty intonation. Nevertheless, he was one of the most welcome performers in the concert halls of Europe for a number of years. He was a thorough musician and a good composer, though his works are so full of technical difficulties as to be almost impossible of performance. Indeed it is said that some of them contained difficulties which even he could not always overcome.

Born in Moravia at the town of Brünn in 1814, he entered the Vienna conservatory, and in 1830 made his first concert tour through Munich and Paris. Paganini was at that time travelling in Europe, and Ernst, in the desire to learn something from this great artist, followed him from town to town, and endeavoured to model his own playing upon the style of the Italian virtuoso, an effort which seems to have brought down upon him the censure of some critics, but which others have considered highly praiseworthy.

In 1832 he settled in Paris, where he studied hard under De Bériot, and played in concerts frequently. After 1844 he lived chiefly in England, where he was highly appreciated, until the approach of his fatal disease made it necessary for him to give up, first, public performances, and then violin playing of any kind. He died at Nice after eight years of intense suffering, in 1865.

When Ernst died the critic of the _Atheneum_ compared him with other players of his day in the following words: "Less perfection in his polish, less unimpeachable in the diamond lustre and clearness of his tone, than De Bériot, Ernst had as much elegance as that exquisite violinist, with greater depth of feeling. Less audaciously inventive and extravagant than Paganini, he was sounder in taste, and, in his music, with no lack of fantasy, more scientific in construction.... The secret, however, of Ernst's success, whether as a composer or a virtuoso, lay in his expressive power and accent. There has been nothing to exceed these as exhibited by him in his best days. The passion was carried to its utmost point, but never torn to tatters, the freest use of _tempo rubato_ permitted, but always within the limits of the most just regulation."

Among the violinists of this period (those who were born between 1800 and 1830) will be found those who first visited the United States. In 1843 Ole Bull found his way to these shores, and in the following year both Vieuxtemps and Artot were giving concerts in New York. A kind of triangular duel took place, for the admirers of Artot and Vieuxtemps, who were chiefly the French residents of the city, endeavoured to belittle the capabilities of Ole Bull, who nevertheless appears to have been very successful, and if anything, to have benefited by the competition. Musical culture was, at that time, in a very low state in America, and one may judge somewhat of its progress by the press criticisms of the artists who visited the country from time to time. It will be seen that those who, like Ole Bull, Sivori, and Remenyi, applied their talents to the elaboration of popular airs and operatic themes were able to elicit the warmest praise. Vieuxtemps appears to have appealed to the cultured minority and was understood and appreciated by very few.

Flowery language was used without stint, and was frequently misapplied in the most ludicrous manner, as will be seen by the following extract:

"Since the death of his great master, the weird Paganini, Ole Bull had been left without a rival in Europe. Herwig, Nagel, Wallace, Artot, and De Bériot can only 'play second fiddle' to this king of the violin. His entrance upon the stage is remarkably modest, and after the Parisian graces of Artot seems a little awkward; a tip of his bow brings a crash from the orchestra. He then lays his cheek caressingly on the instrument, which gradually awakes, and wails, and moans, like an infant broken of its slumber. Every tone seems fraught with human passion. At one time he introduces a dialogue, in which a sweet voice complains so sadly that it makes the heart ache with pity, which is answered from another string with imprecations so violent and threatening that one almost trembles with fear. We fancied that a young girl was pleading for the life of her lover, and receiving only curses in reply. At the close of the first piece, the 'Adagio Maestoso,' there was one universal shout of applause, which afforded an infinite relief to a most enthusiastic house that had held its breath for fifteen minutes. Ole Bull came before the curtain and bowed, with his hand upon his heart. There is something different in his performance from that of any other artist, and yet it is difficult to describe the peculiarity of his style, except that he touches all the strings at once, and plays a distinct accompaniment with the fingers of his right hand. But the charm is in the genius of the man and the grandeur of his compositions. He knows how to play upon the silver cord of the heart which binds us to a world of beauty, and vibrates only when touched by a master hand."

The sentiments and emotions aroused in the breast of this critic appear to have been those with which Paganini inspired his audience, when he played a duet on two strings, as related in an earlier chapter. Ole Bull was a child of nature, he gave his audience a description of the beauties of nature, and behold! it is interpreted as a story of human passions,--a high tribute to descriptive music.

The following criticism seems more in keeping with the ideas known to have been held by the violinist, and almost leads one to imagine that the critic was fortunate enough to obtain an interview with the virtuoso before writing his account:

"FEBRUARY, 1844.

"To what shall we compare Ole Bull's playing? Was it like some well-informed individual who has seen the world and who spices his tales of men and things with song and story--now describing the beauties of Swiss scenery, now repeating the air which he caught up one moonlight night on the Bosphorus, and anon relating a stirring joke which he gleaned on the Boulevard. Such a man would create an impression on any small tea-party, but that violin did more--the comparison fails. There might be to him who chose to give rein to his fancy a vision at one moment of the old ivy-covered church and the quiet graveyard, the evening sun streaming through the rich stained glass, the organ faintly heard through the long aisles and the deep chancel, and around and about the singing of some bird of late hours, and the hum of the bee as he flew by, well laden, to his storehouse of sweets.

"Then the clouds flew fearfully, and the wind moaned through the boughs of the old oak-tree in its winter dishabille, and so down to the seashore, when it rushed over cliffs and crags and knocked off the caps of the mad waves and sped on like a tyrant, crashing everything in its way and rejoicing in its might. And so we glided oddly but easily enough into the ballroom, where mirth and laughter, bright eyes, fairy feet, and all that was good and pleasant to behold flitted by. It was not all music that Ole Bull's violin gave out. There were old memories and pleasant ones, ideas which shaped themselves into all manners of queer visions; and the main difference between Ole Bull and those I have heard before him seemed to me to consist in this--that whereas many others may excite and hold by the button, as it were, the organ of hearing and the mind therewith immediately connected, Ole Bull awakens the other senses along with it and occupies them in the field of imagination."

In 1846 came Sivori, and in 1848 Remenyi, both artists whose desire to please their audiences took them far from the path of the highest musical standard. It may be said with truth that the country was hardly ready for musicianship of the highest quality, and even in 1872, when Wieniawski came with the great pianist and composer, Rubinstein, the two were accepted on their reputation rather than on their merits, which were understood by a comparatively small proportion of their audiences.

Although several violinists endeavoured to copy Paganini's style, or at least to learn as much as possible from hearing and seeing him play, there was only one, excepting Catarina Calcagno, who received direct instruction from him, and on whom his mantle was said, by his admirers, to have fallen. That one was Camillo Sivori, born at Genoa, June 6, 1817.

The connecting link between Sivori and Paganini began very early in the career of the former. Indeed it is said that the excitement of his mother, on hearing Paganini play at a concert, caused the premature birth of the future disciple of the great artist. Marvellous stories are told of Sivori's infancy. At the age of eighteen months, before he had ever seen or heard a violin player, he continually amused himself by using two pieces of stick after the manner of the violin and bow, and singing to himself. It is fair to say that similar precocity in other children has not always resulted in virtuosity. A case might be cited of a very young person who amused himself by inverting a small chair, and imagining that he was a street organist, but he grew to maturity without adopting that profession.

At two years of age, the account continues, he cried out lustily for a violin, and when his father, reduced to submission by the boy's importunity, bought him a child's violin, he at once began to apply himself, morning, noon, and night, to practising on this instrument, and without any aid he was able in a short time to play many airs he had heard his sisters play or sing. His renown spread through Genoa, and he was invited everywhere. At concerts and parties he was placed upon a table to play, and he was frequently called upon to perform before the king and the queen-dowager. He must have been a most wilful and embarrassing child, for the account goes on to say that he would not enter a church unless he heard music; but on the other hand, if he did hear music he insisted on going in, or else he would scream and make a terrible scene.

These anecdotes, told by an effusive admirer, seem rather ridiculous, but when Paganini visited Genoa, and Sivori was six years old, the virtuoso took a great deal of interest in the little fellow and gave him lessons. He also wrote a concerto for him, and six short sonatas with accompaniment for guitar, tenor, and 'cello, and these the young artist soon played in public. In six months Paganini left Genoa and desired to take his young pupil with him, but this was not allowed by the parents, and Sivori was placed under the tuition of Costa. Three years later Paganini returned to Genoa, and by his advice his protégé was placed under M. Dellepaine, who taught him taste and expression, his lessons with Costa in technique continuing. In 1827 Sivori made a concert tour with M. Dellepaine, and visited Paris, where his playing at the Conservatoire won him great applause. He also appeared in England, after which he entered upon another serious course of study for several years, and perfected the tone which enraptured the world for so long, and at the same time he studied composition under Serra.

In 1839 his concert tours began again, and he visited Germany, Russia, Belgium, and Paris, where he played at the Conservatoire concerts and received the medal of honour.

Sivori now set out on extensive travels, and, after visiting England, proceeded, in 1846, to America, travelling through the United States, Mexico, and various parts of South America, spending eight years in these peregrinations, and amassing a considerable fortune. During this great tour he met with many adventures, frequently travelling on horseback, and at one time being at death's door with yellow fever. On his return to Europe he shared the fate of many musicians who have achieved financial success, and lost his money by unfortunate investment, which made it necessary for him to resume his travels. He therefore visited Great Britain, Switzerland, Germany, Spain, Portugal, etc.

He was, of course, compared to many of the great violinists of his time, who all had their special merits. One criticism, in which Sivori is compared with Spohr, may be interesting: "Spohr is of colossal stature, and looks more like an ancient Roman than a Brunswicker; Sivori is the antithesis of Spohr in stature. Spohr has the severe phlegmatic Teutonic aspect; Sivori has the flashing Italian eye and variability of feature. Spohr stands firm and still; Sivori's body is all on the swing, he tears the notes, as it were, from his instrument. Spohr's refinement and polish have been the characteristics of his playing; in Sivori it is wild energy--the soul in arms--the determination to be up and doing--the daring impulse of youthful genius. Spohr's playing is remarkable for its repose and finish; Sivori electrifies by the most powerful appeals to the affections."

Sivori was a man of generous impulses, and was seldom appealed to in vain to assist in a good cause. When his teacher, M. Dellepaine, was taken ill and was unable temporarily to fill his post of first violin at the theatre, and of director of the conservatoire at Genoa, Sivori replaced him in both and gave him the entire benefit of his services. After two years the teacher died, and Sivori still held the two places an entire year for the benefit of the widow, until a situation was procured for her which enabled her to live without further assistance.

At one time Sivori felt that the instrument which he played was not so perfect as to satisfy him. He asked Paganini to sell him one, and the reply was, "I will not sell you the violin, but I will present it to you in compliment to your high talents." Sivori travelled to Nice to receive the instrument from his master's own hands. Paganini was then--it was in 1840--in a deplorable condition, and could hardly speak. He signified a desire to hear his pupil play once more, and Sivori, withdrawing to a room a little way off, so that the sound of the instrument would not be too loud, played whatever Paganini called for. About two weeks later Paganini died.

In 1851 Hallé wrote of him as follows:

"Sivori was here lately, but caused little furore; such rubbish as the man plays now I had never heard, and really, as an artist, felt ashamed of him."

Sivori continued to play in public until 1864, when he visited London and played at the Musical Union and elsewhere, but his triumph in Paris in 1862 must not be forgotten. On that occasion he executed Paganini's B minor concerto, and aroused immense enthusiasm, although he played immediately after Alard, who was at that time a prime favourite. During his later years Sivori lived in retirement, and he died February 18, 1894.

He was the first person allowed to play on the celebrated violin which Paganini bequeathed to the city of Genoa. He was also the first to play, with orchestra, Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in England. This performance was at the Philharmonic Society concert, June 29, 1846.

Henry Vieuxtemps was one of the greatest violinists of his time. He was born at Verviers, in Belgium, in 1820, and was brought up in a musical atmosphere. So early did his talent develop, that he played a concerto of Rode in public at the age of six, and the following year made a tour with his father and his teacher, Lecloux, during which he had the good fortune to meet De Bériot, before whom he played. During four years he remained a pupil of De Bériot, and when that artist left Paris, in 1831, Vieuxtemps went to Brussels, where he practised hard, but without a teacher, until 1833, when he again set out on a prolonged concert tour.

From this time on he seems to have spent the greater part of his time in travelling, for which he had a passion. He visited all parts of Europe and met most of the celebrated musicians of the day. Spohr, Molique, Schumann, Paganini, Henselt, and Richard Wagner were among the celebrities whom he met, and in his tours he was associated with Servais, Thalberg, and other well-known artists.

Not content with Europe as a field for conquest, he visited America in 1844, and again in 1857 and in 1870.

He was offered many excellent positions, some of which he held for a time and others he declined. In 1845 he married Josephine Eder, an eminent pianist of Vienna, and shortly after was appointed solo violinist to the Emperor of Russia, relinquishing that post six years later in order to travel again. He was professor at the Brussels conservatoire from 1871 to 1873, and in 1872 he was elected a member of the Academic Royale of Belgium, on which occasion he read a memoir of Étienne Jean Soubre.

In 1868 he suffered a double bereavement through the deaths, first of his father, and a short time later of his wife, and, to divert his mind from these troubles, he undertook a tour which lasted three years. During 1873 his active career was cut short by a stroke of paralysis which disabled his left side. He now travelled for health's sake, and went to Algiers, where he lived quietly for several years. His life was brought to an end by a drunken Arab, who threw a large stone at him while he was riding in his carriage one day, striking him on the head.

As a violinist Vieuxtemps possessed a wonderful staccato, both on the up and down bow. His intonation was perfect. He was fond of strong dramatic accents and contrasts. As a composer for the violin he had wider success than any one since Spohr, but while some of his works contain really fine ideas worked out with much skill, others are merely show pieces of no particular value.

As a man Vieuxtemps had a gay and restless disposition. He was not easily depressed by trifles, and he enjoyed the freedom of a life of constant change and travel, and it was during his travels that most of his best compositions were written.

During the last few years of his active life, after his paralytic stroke had prevented his playing, he suffered much from his inability to demonstrate to his pupils the way in which certain passages should be played. Frequent outbursts of rage ensued, of which his pupils were obliged to bear the brunt, even to being prodded with his iron-shod stick. Sometimes scenes more amusing would occur, as when some grandees would visit the class, and Vieuxtemps would change his manner from smiles and affability while addressing them, to scowls and grimaces while talking to his pupils, the latter, of course, being invisible to the visitors.

When Vieuxtemps visited America in 1857, he was associated with Thalberg, the pianist, and together they visited many towns and cities. Amongst the gems of American newspaper criticism they no doubt took with them several copies of the following, which appeared in the local paper of a town in Tennessee, and was headed "Thalberg and Vieuxtemps:"

"These distinguished individuals are now at Nashville, giving high pressure concerts, and selling tickets at two dollars apiece, when convenient. A stage-load and a half or two stage-loads of ladies and gentlemen went down from this place to hear them. Thalberg is said to be death, in its most horried shape, on the piano, and it is probably true; while Vieuxtemps is represented as a fiddler of considerable skill, considering his opportunities, which he no doubt is. We haven't heard either of them since they were quite small, and unless they come out here and reduce the price of their tickets to their value,--say about sixty-two and a half cents a dozen,--it is possible that we sha'n't hear them any more. When we ride forty miles, at an expense of at least ten dollars, extras not included, to hear a couple of itinerant Dutchmen torture a brace of unoffending instruments into fits, until the very spirit of music howls in sympathy, if some one will cave in our head with a brickbat, we will feel greatly obliged.

"But seriously, Thalberg and Vieuxtemps have never done us any harm that we know of, and we don't suppose they intend to. We wouldn't much mind hearing their music, for no doubt it is nearly, if not quite, as good as that of the average common run of Dutchmen, which, as the latter will tell you, is saying a good deal."

And yet musical culture was said to be in its infancy in America at that time!

In Boston, Vieuxtemps, after an absence of fourteen years, was criticised thus: "We cannot see in M. Vieuxtemps the spark of genius, but he is a complete musician, and the master of his instrument. Tone so rich, so pure, so admirably prolonged and nourished, so literally drawn from the instrument, we have scarcely heard before; nor such vigour, certainty, and precision, such nobility and truth in every motion and effect. We recognise the weakness for sterile difficulties of extreme harmonics."

Vieuxtemps was also subject to comparison with Sivori, rather to the former's disparagement. "The one plays the violin like a great musician, the other like a spoiled child of nature, who has endowed him with the most precious gifts. Intrepid wrestlers, both, and masters of their instrument, they each employ a different manner. M. Vieuxtemps never lets you forget that he plays the violin, that the wonders of mechanism which he accomplishes under your eye are of the greatest difficulty and have cost him immense pains, whereas M. Sivori has the air of being ignorant that he holds in his hands one of the most complicated instruments that exists, and he sings to you like Malibran. He sings, he weeps, he laughs on the violin like a very demon."

The following paragraph is a good sample of New York musical journalism in the year 1844:

"Vieuxtemps's first concert on Monday night was a very stylish jam. He is a small, puny-built man, with gold rings in his ears, and a face of genteel ugliness, but touchingly lugubrious in its expression. With his violin at his shoulder, he has the air of a husband undergoing the nocturnal penance of walking the room with 'the child'--and performing it, too, with unaffected pity. He plays with the purest and coldest perfection of art, and is doubtless more learned on the violin than either of the rival performers [Ole Bull and Artot], but there is a vitreous clearness and precision in his notes that would make them more germane to the humour of before breakfast than to the warm abandon of vespertide. His sister travels with him (a pretty blonde, very unlike him), and accompanies him on the piano."

Vieuxtemps also visited America in 1870, with the celebrated singer Christine Nilsson.

Among the celebrated violinists of this period must be mentioned Bernhard Molique, of whom Sir Charles Hallé says that he was a good executant, knowing no difficulties, but his style was polished and cold, and he never carried his public with him. "Ernst," he continues, "was all passion and fire, regulated by reverence for and clear understanding of the masterpieces he had to interpret. Sainton was extremely elegant and finished in his phrasing, but vastly inferior to the others. Vieuxtemps was an admirable violinist and a great musician, whose compositions deserve a much higher rank than it is the fashion to accord them."

Molique was the son of a town musician of Nuremberg, and became a composer whose works have stood the test of time. He was a pupil of Kreutzer and of Spohr, and held the position of director and first violinist of the royal band at Stuttgart. He had a number of excellent pupils, of whom John T. Carrodus was the best known. He died at Stuttgart in 1869.

Henry Gamble Blagrove was a musical prodigy, who began the study of the violin at the age of four, and appeared in public a year later. He was born at Nottingham in 1811, and at six years of age played at Drury Lane. He studied abroad with Spohr, and appeared in Vienna in 1836, but the greater part of his life was spent in England, where he was soloist in several of the best orchestras. He was a man of refreshing modesty, and was held in high esteem. He died in London in 1872.

Jacob Dont, of Vienna, and Jean Dancla, a French violinist, both belong to this period, and were teachers of reputation.