easy to conceive the sort of vague reply by which his mystification
would be “made absolute.”

_A new resource in difficulty._—The following graphic sketch—a piece of
what our American brethren delight to designate as the _real grit_—is
from Colonel Crockett’s “Adventures in Texas:”—

“As we drew nigh to the Washita, the silence was broken alone by our own
talk and the clattering of our horses’ hoofs; and we imagined ourselves
pretty much the only travellers, when we were suddenly somewhat startled
by the sound of music. We checked our horses, and listened, and the
music continued. ‘What can all that mean?’ says I. We listened again,
and we now heard, ‘Hail, Columbia, happy land!’ played in first-rate
style. ‘That’s fine,’ says I. ‘Fine as silk, Colonel, and leetle finer,’
says the other; ‘but hark, the tune’s changed.’ We took another spell of
listening, and now the musician struck up, in a brisk and lively manner,
‘Over the water to Charley.’ ‘That’s mighty mysterious,’ says one;
‘Can’t cipher it out, no-how,’ says a third. ‘Then let us go ahead,’
says I, and off we dashed at a pretty rapid gait, I tell you—by no means
slow.

“As we approached the river, we saw, to the right of the road, a new
clearing on a hill, where several men were at work, and running down the
hill like wild Indians, or rather like the office-holders in pursuit of
the depositees. There appeared to be no time to be lost; so they ran,
and we cut ahead for the crossing. The music continued all this time
stronger and stronger, and the very notes appeared to speak distinctly,
‘Over the water to Charley!’

“When we reached the crossing, we were struck all of a heap at beholding
a man seated in a sulky, in the middle of the river, and playing for his
life on a fiddle. The horse was up to his middle in the water: and it
seemed as if the flimsy vehicle was ready to be swept away by the
current. Still the fiddler fiddled on composedly, as if his life had
been insured, and he was nothing more than a passenger! We thought he
was mad,—and shouted to him. He heard us, and stopped his music. ‘You
have missed the crossing,’ shouted one of the men from the clearing.—‘I
_know_ I have,’ returned the fiddler.—‘If you go ten feet farther, you
will be drowned.’—‘I _know_ I shall,’ returned the fiddler.—‘Turn back,’
said the man.—‘I _can’t_,’ said the other. ‘Then how will you _get
out_?’—‘I’m sure I _don’t know_.’

“The men from the clearing, who understood the river, took our horses,
and rode up to the sulky, and, after some difficulty, succeeded in
bringing the traveller safe to shore, when we recognised the worthy
_parson_ who had fiddled for us at the puppet-show at Little Rock. They
told him that he had had a narrow escape; and he replied, that he had
found that out an hour ago! He said he had been fiddling to the fishes
for a full hour, and had exhausted all the tunes that he could play
without notes. We then asked him what could have induced him to think of
fiddling at a time of such peril; and he replied, that he had remarked,
in his progress through life, that there was nothing in universal natur
so well calculated to draw people together, as the sound of a fiddle;
and he knew that he might bawl until he was hoarse for assistance, and
no one would stir a peg; but they would no sooner hear the scraping of
his catgut, than they would quit all other business, and come to the
spot in flocks.”

_A prejudice overcome._—Another story of a clergyman fond of fiddling—in
this instance, a Scotchman—is to be found in _Tait’s Magazine_.—“A
number of his parishioners considered it as quite derogatory to his
calling, that he should play upon the fiddle; so a deputation of them
waited upon him, and remonstrated against this _crying_ enormity. He
said—“Gentlemen, did you ever see my fiddle, or hear me
play?”—“No!”—“You shall do both,” said he; and immediately brought a
violoncello, on which he struck up a Psalm tone, asking if they had any
objection to join him with their voices. They complied; and, when all
was over, they expressed themselves perfectly satisfied of his
orthodoxy. “A muckle, respectable, _releegious_-sounding fiddle like
_that_, there was nae harm in. Na, na! it was nane o’ yer scandalous
penny-weddin’ fiddles that they had heard o’!”

It will not have been forgotten, by some of my readers, that the musical
propensities of the Rev. Charles Wesley were made a subject of stringent
comment by the poet Cowper, who pointed his remarks by the line—

  “With wire and catgut he concludes the day.”

It is recorded, however (if I rightly remember), that the candid and
kind-hearted Cowper saw reason, afterwards, to alter his impressions on
that head, and to regret that he had reflected, with such freedom of
pen, on the harmless recreations of the earnestly pious minister.

——From the foregoing incidental references to men of the sacred
calling, we pass, by no violent transition, into the church-yard. On a
stone, in the porch at the southern entrance of the collegiate church,
Wolverhampton, is the following singular epitaph. “Near this place lies
Claudius Phillips, whose _absolute contempt of riches_, and _inimitable
performance upon the violin_, made him the admiration of all that knew
him. He was born in Wales, made the tour of Europe, and, after the
experience of _both_ kinds of fortune, died in 1733.”

Belonging to the same equivocal species of association with the grave,
and by no means to be commended for its admixture of the _quaint_ with
the solemn, is the following “musician’s epitaph,” from whence gotten, I
am unable to say:—

  Ah! what avails, when wrapped in shroud and pall,
    Who jigged, who fiddled, or who sang the best?
  What are to _me_ the crotchets, quavers, all,
    When I have found an everlasting _rest_?

_Fifty Years’ Fiddling._—“An interesting jubilee was lately kept here
(Mannheim). The scholars of our venerable Orchestra Director, M. Erasmus
Eisenmenger, now in his 70th year, met to celebrate the fiftieth year of
his life spent as an artist. It is worthy of remark that he played, in
the _same_ musical saloon, the _same_ concerto on the violin that he had
executed fifty years ago—as well as a double concerto of Viotti, which
he played with his pupil, Chapel-master Frey, with a spirit and vigour
quite wonderful at his age.” (_Harmonicon_, 1830.)—[The curious in
coincidences ought to be informed whether it was also the _same fiddle_,
as formerly, that was thus eloquent in the hands of the worthy old
gentleman.]

_Another fifty years of it!_—Teobaldo Gatti, a native of Florence, died
at Paris in 1727, at a very advanced age, after having been, for rather
more than half a century, a performer on the _bass-viol_ in the
orchestra of the Opera there. Is it possible to be more completely
identified with one’s instrument?

_Glory made out of Shame._—A stranger, visiting Greenwich Hospital, saw
a pensioner in a yellow coat, which is the punishment for disorderly
behaviour. Surprised at the singularity of the man’s appearance, he
asked him what it meant? “Oh, sir,” replied the fellow, “we who wear
yellow coats are the _music_, and it is I who play the _first fiddle_.”
(_Hawkins’s anecdotes._)

_Discrimination._—“Gentlemen,” said an auctioneer, addressing the
bargain-hunters by whom his sale-room was crammed—“the next lot is a
very fine-toned violin.”—“_A violin_, sir!” exclaimed his clerk, in
surprise—“You must have made some mistake, sir,—the next lot is _the
fiddle_!”

_The Cremona Fiddle._—Messrs. Schramm and Karstens, the principals of a
wealthy house of agency at Hamburg, were eager practitioners of the arts
of accumulation. In the month of May, 1794, their extensive warehouse
received the honour of a visit from an individual of unexceptionable
appearance and costume, who, after bargaining for a certain number of
ells of cloth, and ordering them to be cut off from the piece, found, on
examination of his purse, that his instant coin was somewhat short of
the sum required. He handed over, however, all the cash he had—took an
acknowledgment for it—ordered the cloth to be laid aside for him, and
arranged to return in a couple of hours with the balance of the money.
“By the by,” added he, “I may just as well leave with you this
_Cremona_, which is rather in my way, while I’m running about the town.
It is an instrument of particular value, for which I refused yesterday a
matter of 300 ducats: place it there in the corner, on the top of the
cloth, and it will be quite safe till my return.”

It happened, about an hour afterwards, that a handsome carriage stopped
at the door of Messrs. S. and K.’s warehouse. A personage, dressed with
the utmost attention to effect, and decorated with various knightly
insignia, alighted under an escort of three lacqueys in livery. Mons.
Schramm pressed forward to receive him, and conducted him into the
warehouse. His highness purchased several small articles, and, whilst
expressing his satisfaction at the arrangement and variety of the goods
before him, chanced to rest his eyes on the violin. Caught by its
appearance, he took it up, turned it over and over, contemplated it with
a kindling eye, and, calling forward one of his lacqueys, ordered him to
make trial of it. The domestic proceeded to do so in a masterly manner,
and drew forth sounds of such harmony as to bring together, by the ears,
a listening crowd of mute gapers at so extraordinary a virtuoso. Mons.
Schramm and the clerks were warmed up into an admiration far above the
commercial temperature; and the whole scene appeared to partake of
enchantment. Presently, motioning his domestic to stop, the great man
enquired of him, in the presence of all, what he thought of the
instrument, and what estimate he should incline to form of its value.
“Why, certainly,” said the livery-man, after a pause of examination, “if
your Excellency could make it your Excellency’s own for 500 ducats, I
should say that your Excellency would be in possession of the finest
Cremona fiddle in the world!” The man of distinction took Mons. Schramm
aside, and offered him 400: from that he ascended to 500; but the man of
commerce told the man of distinction that the instrument belonged to a
stranger, and explained the circumstances under which it had been left
there. “Now, mark me, Mons. Schramm,” said the great man; “if you can
secure me this violin, you shall not repent your having obliged me: do
your utmost to make the purchase for me, and go to 500 ducats, if
necessary; there’s my address, and I shall expect to see you at five,
with the fiddle and the account.”—Mons. Schramm, full of protestations
of his readiness to do all in his power, respectfully bows out his
visitor.

In an hour or two, the impatiently-expected owner of the instrument
makes his re-appearance, takes up his parcel and violin, and is about to
depart. “Stay, sir,” said Mons. Schramm, a little embarrassed—“one word
with you, if you please—would you feel inclined to s—, to sell that
violin? I could make you a good offer for it—say 350 ducats, cash.” The
proposition, however, is met by a short and dry answer in the negative,
and a renewed movement to depart. Mons. Schramm then offers him 360, and
so on, till in short, after considerable discussion, the stranger
consents to part with the object of solicitation,—but still as a matter
of regret,—for the sum of 470 ducats, and to give a receipt for 500. The
bargain is completed, and Mons. Schramm, receiving the fiddle with a
chuckle of delight, takes leave of the stranger with lavish civility.

Full of satisfaction at the idea of having made thirty ducats, and the
friendly acquaintance of a great man, Mons. Schramm, at the exact hour
of five, presented himself at the hotel of St. Petersburg, situated on
the Jungfernstieg. With the violin in his hand, and the receipt for 500
ducats in his pocket, he demanded to speak to his Excellency the Baron
De Strogonoff, Ambassador from Russia, to the Court of St. James’s—such
being the address given him in the morning by the gentleman with the
equipage. He was informed by the porter that he knew nothing of the said
nobleman, inasmuch as he had not come to their hotel. Mons. Schramm
hereupon insists and grows warm; the servants gather round, and the
dispute at length draws forth the master of the hotel, who pledges his
word, in positive terms, that the Ambassador in question is not at his
establishment! Enquiry is then made at all the large hotels in the
town—and, at all, the Baron De Strogonoff is unknown!

It was now high time for Mons. Schramm to consider himself as having
been played upon! As for the rogues, they had so well concerted their
measures, that all subsequent efforts to discover them proved abortive.
Mons. Schramm had full leisure for maledictions upon his own credulity
and ultra-commercial spirit; nor did he very speedily get rid of the
jests and gibes of his fellow-townsmen, at the piquant fact of his
having paid so handsome a sum, for a fiddle that was not worth much more
than a ducat!

_An apt Quotation._—The felicitous power of allusion which Dean Swift
had at his command, was never more pointedly shown, than in his seizure
of a line from Virgil, to _fit_ the circumstances of a certain domestic
disaster. Relating from memory, I give but the outline of the story. A
lady’s gown (or _mantua_) accidentally caught fire, and damaged a
gentleman’s fiddle, which was lying unfortunately near it. The Dean,
either witnessing the accident, or informed of it, exclaimed
pathetically,

  “_Mantua_, væ! miseræ nimiùm vicina _Cremonæ_!”

_The “Leading Instrument” victorious._—Anseaume, a French gentleman, of
very limited income, hired a small house at Bagnolet, and invited his
friends once or twice a-week to come and amuse themselves there. On
these occasions, each brought some provisions: one, wine; another, cold
meat; another, patties; another, game. It unluckily happened that
Anseaume, as absent in mind as straitened in his finances, had
forgotten, for a whole year, to pay his rent. The landlord made a
descent upon him, precisely on the day when his friends Collé, Panard,
Piron, Gillet, the painter Watteau, the musician Degueville, and other
epicures, had assembled there. These gentlemen, according to custom, had
brought plenty of provender, but no money; and the landlord imperiously
demanded his rent of two hundred crowns. What was to be done, in order
to assist their friend? They immediately set about cooking the meat and
poultry; they levied contributions on the fruit and vegetables of the
gardens; Watteau drew a beautiful and inviting sign, and Degueville
borrowed a _violin_ of the parish beadle; in short, they got up a
_cabaret_ and _fête Champêtre_. The appearance of these new cooks, who
served their customers in habits of embroidered velvet, with swords by
their sides, had a curious effect, and greatly diverted the company,
which was so numerous, that the receipts amounted to five hundred
crowns! Anseaume paid his landlord, and his distress was converted into
joy and gladness. But now a question arose, that was discussed with no
small earnestness and interest:—To which of his guests was the host most
indebted? Those who played the part of cooks, declared that, without
their labours, there would have been nothing for the public to eat;
Watteau laid no little stress on the invitation held out by his sign;
and Degueville insisted that, without his music, the people’s attention
would not have been drawn to the sign; and that, even if they had
noticed it, and come in, there would have been no mirth and spirit,
little eaten, and that little scantily and reluctantly paid for. The
dispute began to grow warm, when Degueville seized the violin, played
them all into good humour, and was, at length, allowed to be the victor!

_Sending for Time-Keepers._—In treating of the importance of adjusting
the time of a composition to the sentiment and intention of the author,
it is stated by Kandler, an able German writer, that Haydn was so
offended at the rude and hurried manner in which he found his music
driven by us English, when he first visited our country, as to send for
the family of the Moralts from Vienna, to shew the Londoners the time
and expression with which he intended his quartetts to be
played.—Kiesewetter also, in leading Beethoven’s symphonies at the
Philharmonic Concert (although himself a performer who particularly
shone in rapid playing), is said to have insisted upon their being
executed more slowly than that orchestra had been accustomed to perform
them.

_Musical Exaction._—A rich, but penurious personage, who somehow aspired
to be thought a man of _taste_, was resolved, on one occasion, to make
exhibition of this quality, by giving to his friends an entertainment of
instrumental music. While the musicians were all at work, he seemed
satisfied with the performance—but when the principal Violin came to be
engaged upon an incidental solo, he enquired, in a towering passion, why
the others were remaining _idle_? “It is a _pizzicato_ for one
instrument,” replied the operator. “I can’t help that,” exclaimed the
virtuoso, who was determined to have the worth of his money—“Let the
trumpets _pizzicato_ along with you!”—This hopeful amateur may serve to
recall the not unfamiliar anecdote about old Jacob Astley, of
“horse-theatre” celebrity, who observed a violinist in his band to be in
a state of temporary cessation from playing, during the continued
activity of the others, and asked him what he _meant_ by it. “Why, sir,
here’s a _rest_ marked in my part—a rest of several bars.”—“_Rest!_”
shouted Astley (who had always a great horror of being imposed upon),
“don’t tell me about _rest_, sir. I pay you to come here and _play_,
sir, and not to _rest_!”

_A Device for a Dinner._—Doctor Arne once went to Cannons, the seat of
the late Duke of Chandos, to assist at the performance of an oratorio in
the Chapel of Whitchurch, but such was the throng of company, that no
provisions were to be procured at the Duke’s house. On going to the
Chandos Arms, in the town of Edgeware, the Doctor made his way into the
kitchen, where he found only a leg of mutton on the spit. This, the
waiter informed him, was bespoken by a party of gentlemen. The Doctor
(rubbing his elbow—his usual habit) exclaimed, “I’ll have that
mutton—give me a _fiddle-string_.” He took the fiddle-string, cut it in
pieces, and, privately sprinkling it over the mutton, walked out of the
kitchen. Then, waiting very patiently till the waiter had served it up,
he heard one of the gentlemen exclaim—“Waiter! this meat is full of
_maggots_: take it away!” This was what the Doctor expected.—“Here, give
it _me_.”—“O, sir,” says the waiter, “you can’t eat it—’tis full of
maggots.”—“Nay, never mind,” cries the Doctor, “fiddlers have strong
stomachs.” So, bearing it away, and scraping off the catgut, he got a
hearty dinner.

_A “Practising” Coachman._—Too true it is that Nature has not gifted all
mortals with a taste for music. Shakspeare tells us that the man who
hath not music in his soul is fit for “broils;” and the Duchess of
Ragusa appears to have inclined to his opinion, if we may judge from an
occurrence in which she was concerned some years since. Finding herself
offended that the coachman of a certain Miss Ozenne, her neighbour,
should practise the violin too much in the vicinity of her ducal ears,
she summoned the lady, the coachman, and the violin, before the
_Tribunal de Police_, for making a “tapage injurieux et nocturne.” In
vain the lady pleaded the right of her domestics to make musicians of
themselves, if they could: the Duchess declared it was done solely and
purely for her annoyance; the _Commissaire du Quartier_ declared that
the noise consisted of “sons aigus, bruyans, et dissonans;” and Miss
Ozenne was condemned to be imprisoned one day, and to be fined to the
amount of ten shillings.—(_New Monthly Magazine._)

_A Footman, to match._—“The following curiously illustrative anecdote
may be relied on. A few days since, a footman went into Mori’s
music-shop to buy a fiddle-string. While he was making his choice, a
gentleman entered the shop, and began to examine various compositions
for the violin. Among the rest, he found Paganini’s celebrated
“Merveille—_Duo_ pour un _seul_ Violon,” and, perceiving the
difficulties in which it abounded, asked the shopman if he thought that
Mori himself could play it. The young man, a little perplexed, and
unwilling to imply that his master’s powers had any limit, replied that
he had no doubt he could perform it, _provided_ he practised it for _a
week_; upon which the footman, who stood intent on the conversation,
broke in on the discourse, and swore that Mori could do no such thing,
for that he himself had been practising the piece for _three weeks_, and
could not play it yet!”—(_Harmonicon_, _May, 1830_.)

_A Royal “Whereabout.”_—Salomon, who gave some lessons on the violin to
George the Third, said one day to his august pupil, “Fiddlers may be
divided into three classes: to the _first_ belong those who cannot play
_at all_; to the _second_, those who play _badly_; and to the third,
those who play _well_. You, Sire, have already reached the _second_.”

_Precocious Performers._—The violin, in the hands of _children_, has
been often rendered the theme of astonishment. In the foregoing pages,
many instances have been given of eminent players, whose powerful
maturity was prefigured, in the display of genius made in their tender
youth. Many blossoms there are, however, which _never_ pay their promise
afterwards in fruit; and many an “acute juvenal, voluble and full of
grace,” has made early flourishes on the fiddle, that have led to
nothing of value in his fuller years. Apropos of this too commonly
observable disproportion, a French writer has the following epigram:—

SUR LES PRODIGES À LA MODE.

  Plus merveilleux que nos ancêtres,
    Ou peut-être plus singuliers,
  A dix ans nous avons des maîtres,
    Qui sont à vingt des écoliers!

Which may be thus freely paraphrased:—

  Our’s is an age of wonders;—we behold
    Precocious prodigies, in passing plenty:
  We have our _masters_, now, at ten years old,—
    But then—they sink to _scholars_, when they’re twenty!

The Germans have an expressive denomination for these very early and
forced exhibitants. They style them _wunderkind_, or wonder-children.

After hearing some violin variations rattled through at a Vienna Concert
by a six-year old performer, son of a M. Birnbach, a prognosticator was
heard to say, with a gravity that scarcely seemed unreasonable: “Well! I
foresee that, before many years are passed, we shall have a symphony of
Haydn’s performed by babes in swaddling-clothes!”

As a matter of curiosity, I will here subjoin a few records of early
feats, without attempting to distinguish those which may belong simply
to the class of _wunder-kinde_.

Weichsel, the brother of Mrs. Billington, played in public with his
sister, when she was _six_ years old, and himself a year older—their
instruments being the violin and the pianoforte.—Balfe, the singer and
composer, made a kind of _début_ as a juvenile violin-player (according
to the _Harmonicon_) at a theatrical benefit.—Two Hungarian boys, of the
name of Ebner, one ten and the other eleven, played some of Mayseder’s
difficult variations at a Concert at Berlin, in 1823.—A boy of twelve
years of age, named Khayll, pupil of Jansa, introduced by Moscheles at a
Concert at Vienna in 1827, played some admirable variations on the
violin, in which he displayed an ease and solidity far beyond his years,
and a great knowledge of his instrument.—At Limberg, in 1831,
Apollinarino Conski, _five_ years old, surprised all hearers by his
execution of a concerto of Maurer’s; and the son of this last-named
Artist, at the age of twelve, performed in the same year some of
Mayseder’s variations, at his father’s Concerts at Berlin.

At Stutgardt, in 1831, the brothers Eickhorn, the elder _nine_, and the
younger _seven_ years of age, gave a Concert at one of the saloons, and
astonished not only the public in general, but the connoisseurs, by
their early proficiency on that most difficult of instruments here under
notice. The elder played variations by Mayseder and Rode, and a
potpourri with his younger brother, composed by Jacobi—and some
variations of Kummer’s.

In various towns of Switzerland, during the same year, the four brothers
Koella, of Zurich, gave Concerts with great success. These boys were
then respectively twelve, ten, nine, and seven years of age—“small by
degrees, and beautifully less.” The elder played the violin and
violoncello with great spirit and power; the third was a good
tenor-player; and the youngest executed concertos of Viotti’s! Their
quartett-playing, however, was their strongest point.

Dr. Crotch, when about _five_ years old, was capable of fiddling, and
after a fashion, too, by no means common to others—that is to say,
_left-handed_.

_Fiddlers’ Tricks._—In 1731, a Concert was announced at Hickford’s room,
for the benefit of Signor Castrucci, _first violin of the Opera_, who,
as the advertisement stated, was to play, amongst other pieces, a solo,
in which he would execute “_twenty-four_” notes with one bow.” On the
following day, this advertisement was burlesqued by another, in which
was promised a solo by the _last violin of Goodman’s Fields’ Playhouse_,
who would perform _twenty-five_ notes with one bow. Such a feat as
either of these, would, in our own days, be nothing at all.

A Signor Angelo Casirola, of Tortona, mystified the good people of
Milan, in 1825, by playing the _reverse_ way—that is, playing with _a
fiddle_ upon _a bow_! His plan was to fasten the bow in an upright
position upon a table, and play upon it with the violin, according to
the best manner in which he could manage to “rub on.” The effect was
unpleasing, both to ear and eye. Another of his tricks was a _sonata
scherzosa_, for which he had two violins _fixed_, with the heads screwed
on a table, and then worked away right and left, with a bow in each
hand, accompanied by a full orchestra. He fooled his audience to the top
of their bent, and was applauded to the very echo! It might assist the
gratification of the gapers after novelty, if the thaumaturgist,
operating with his left hand, as usual, on the finger-board of his
instrument, were to have the _bow_ held and worked by _another person_.
The Chinese flutists have done something like this in _principle_—one
blowing the flute which another has played on! More wonderful still—at
some entertainments given by their Emperor, two musicians played
together the same air, each having one hand on his own flute, and the
other on that of his companion!

At Munich, in 1827, M. Féréol Mazas raised a public astonishment
somewhat akin to that created in London more recently by Paganini, as an
operator on _one string_: and, indeed, all the more _obvious_
peculiarities in the performance of the great Italian artist—those
pertaining to mechanical dexterity—have been copied, more or less
successfully. Assuming to be “the English Paganini,” a certain
individual, of no distinction at that time as a legitimate player, was
particularly prominent in this business of imitation. He presented,
sooth to say, but a soul-less exhibition, having some of the externals
of similitude, indeed, but none of that which “passeth _show_.” Upon the
auditors scraped together, however, his “ad captandum” tricks appeared
to tell abundantly—more especially when he worked with his left hand the
pizzicato accompaniment to the bowed passages; when he brought out some
harmonics from _below_, instead of _above_, the finger-stops; when (by
way of going _beyond_ Paganini) he thrust the instrument between the
hair and stick of the relaxed bow, and thus played on the strings with
the _inner_ hair: and, above all, when he placed the bow between his
knees, and, taking the fiddle in both hands, rubbed the strings against
it, so as to execute some difficulties of which a judicious observer
might have well regretted the possibility! One of the least pardonable
of the faults attending this display, was that his instrument did not
always _tell the truth_: in other words, its intonation was sometimes
false.

ECCENTRIC VARIETIES OF THE VIOLIN KIND.

_The Fiddle of Iceland._—“Sir Joseph Banks and Dr. Solander, when they
visited this island in 1773, brought thence a very ancient musical
instrument, of a long and narrow form, which used to be played on with a
bow; and of which they did me the honour to make me a present. It is
called by the natives the _Long-Spiel_, and has four strings of copper,
one of which is used as a drone. Pieces of wood are placed at different
distances upon the finger-board, to serve as frets. Though this
individual instrument has the appearance of great antiquity, yet, rude
and clumsy as it is, there can be no doubt but that it was still more
imperfect in its first invention: for, to have placed these frets,
implies some small degree of meditation, experience, and a scale; and as
to the bow, that wonderful engine! which the ancients, with all their
diligence and musical refinements, had never been able to discover, it
seems, from this instrument, to have been known in Iceland at least as
early as in any other part of Europe. Sir Joseph Banks and Dr. Solander,
when they found the _Long-Spiel_ on the island, had very great
difficulty in discovering a person among the inhabitants who either
could, or would dare to play on it. At length a wicked Icelander was
found, who, being rendered more courageous and liberal than the rest, by
a few glasses of generous gin, ventured, in secret, to exhilarate these
philosophers ... with a psalm-tune.”—_Burney’s Hist. of Music_, v. iii,
p. 40, 41.

_Fiddle of Tartary._—The Tartars have an instrument peculiar to
themselves, which they denominate a _koba_. It is a _kind_ of violin,
half open at the top, in shape somewhat resembling a boat, having two
hair-strings, which are swept with a bow, the notes being stopped by the
fingers of the left hand, as in performing on the recognized violin.

_African Fiddle._—The Mosees, Mallowas, Burnous, and natives from the
more remote parts of the interior, play on a _rude violin_. The body is
a calabash; the top is covered with deer-skin, and two large holes are
cut in it for the sound to escape: the strings, or rather the string, is
composed of cow’s hair, and broad, like that of the bow with which they
play, which resembles the bow of a violin. Their grimace equals that of
an Italian _buffo_: they generally accompany themselves with the voice,
and increase the humour by a strong nasal sound.—_Bowdich’s Mission to
Ashantee._

“At parting, he (Bee Simera, a king in the Kooranko Country) sent his
_griot_, or minstrel, to play before me, and sing a song of welcome.
This man had a sort of fiddle, the body of which was formed of a
calabash, in which two small square holes were cut, to give it a tone.
It had only one string, composed of many twisted horse-hairs, and,
although he could only bring from it four notes, yet he contrived to
vary them so as to produce a pleasing harmony(!) He played at my door
till I fell asleep, and, waking at day-break, his notes still saluted my
ears; when, finding that his attendance would not be discontinued
without a _douceur_, I gave him a head of tobacco, and told him to go
home and thank his master.”—_Major Laing’s Travels in Western Africa._

“The admirers of Paganini (says Dr. Hogg, in his “_Visit to
Alexandria_”) may learn with surprise that a species of Violin, with a
single string, is not only well-known in Egypt, but is frequently played
in the streets, with extraordinary skill. Of the celebrated Italian, the
Egyptians never heard; but they often listen with delight to the
melodious sounds drawn forth from a single string by a wild untutored
Arab.”

_Greek Fiddle._—M. Fauriel, in his “Chants Populaires de la Grèce
Moderne,” says that the Greeks accompany their songs by an instrument
with strings, which is played with a bow, and that this is exactly the
ancient lyre of the Greeks, of which it retains the name as well as the
form. This lyre, he adds, when perfect, consists of five strings, but it
has frequently but two or three.

The _bow_ is of course a modern accessory, and must have changed,
materially, the mode of playing the instrument, as well as its effect.

_An Eight-Stringed Violin._—Prinz, in his History, assures us that,
about the year 1649, Lord Somerset invented a new kind of violin, which
had eight strings, instead of four; and that, in the hands of a master
who knew how to avail himself of its advantages, it was productive of
very extraordinary effects. To the truth of this, Kircher bears witness.
A violin, with eight strings, was also played on by a M. Urhan, at a
concert at the French _Conservatoire Royal_, in 1830.

_An intermediate Instrument._—With the plausible view of filling up a
void in the range of stringed instruments—that which occurs through the
interval of an _octave_ between the pitch of the viola and the
violoncello—a new instrument of the violin class was invented, a few
years ago, by a French Amateur, who proposed to designate it the
_Contralto_. Its four strings were tuned an octave below those of the
violin, and, consequently, a fourth below the common viola, or tenor,
and a fifth above the violoncello. In quartetts (according to the
inventor) the _second violin_ might in future be replaced by the
_viola_, and the viola by the _Contralto_; which latter would possess
the further advantage of enabling its player to execute with ease those
high passages that are so difficult on the violoncello.—That an
instrument thus designed _might_ sometimes participate effectively in
orchestral business, is extremely probable; but that it should displace
in quartetts the _second violin_, the importance of which, as an aid,
arises so much from its brilliancy, is not _at all_ to be supposed. The
truth appears to be, that what is here referred to as an invention,
possesses little claim to that character; for it was preceded by _the
baryton_, a stringed instrument of a character between the tenor and
violoncello, which has now entirely fallen into disuse. Prince Nicholas
Esterhazy, an ardent musical Amateur, was very fond of this instrument:
and Haydn, who composed a great number of pieces for it, in order to
supply the Prince’s incessant demand for novelty, frequently said that
the necessity he was under of composing so much for the baryton,
contributed greatly to his improvement.

_Something more than a Violin!_—M. Vincenti, a lute-master at Florence,
invented, some years ago, a violin with _eighteen strings_ and _two
bows_, and called it the _Violon-Général_, because it combined (or
professed to combine), with the tones of the violin, those of the
contra-basso, the violoncello, and the viola!

_An Air Violin._—A new and ingeniously invented instrument was
presented, some years since, to the “Académie des Sciences” of Paris, by
M. Isoard. It resembled the common violin, with the strings extended
between two wooden (or metal) blades. It was vibrated upon at one end by
a _current of air_, while, at the other, the player shortened the
strings by the pressure of the finger. In fact, the strings of
this instrument were acted upon by the current of air, _instead_ of
the common _bow_. The sounds were said to vary between those of the
French horn and bassoon. Were it possible for this invention to
come into ordinary use, the violin would have to be classed as a
_wind_-instrument!

_Automaton Violinist._—“After the extraordinary performance of Paganini
and Ole Bull, our readers will not be surprised at any new development
of the powers of this instrument, however great; but there are few in
the world who will hear, without wonder and admiration, of the
unequalled performance of Monsieur Marreppe’s _automaton violin-player_,
which was recently exhibited before the Royal Conservatory at Paris. Our
informant, M. Bruyère, who was present, thus describes this wonderful
piece of mechanism: “On entering the saloon, I saw a well-dressed
handsome figure of a man, apparently between forty and fifty, standing
with a violin in his hand, as if contemplating a piece of music which
lay on a desk before him; and, had I not gone to see an automaton, I
should have believed the object before me to have been endowed with life
and reason, so perfectly natural and easy were the attitudes and
expression of countenance of the figure! I had but little time for
observation, before the orchestra was filled by musicians, and, on the
leader taking his seat, the figure instantly raised itself erect, bowed
with much elegance two or three times, and then, turning to the leader,
nodded, as if to say he was ready, and placed his violin to his
shoulder. At the given signal, he raised his bow, and, applying it to
the instrument, produced, _à la Paganini_, one of the most thrilling and
extraordinary flourishes I ever heard, in which scarcely a semitone
within the compass of the instrument was omitted; and this, executed
with a degree of rapidity and clearness perfectly astonishing. The
orchestra then played a short symphony, in which the automaton
occasionally joined in beautiful style: he then played a most beautiful
fantasia in E natural, with accompaniments, including a movement
_allegro molto_ on the fourth string solo, which was perfectly
indescribable. The tones produced were like any thing but a violin; and
expressive beyond conception. I felt as if lifted from my seat, and
burst into tears, in which predicament I saw most persons in the room.
Suddenly, he struck into a cadenza, in which the harmonics, double and
single, arpeggios on the four strings, and saltos, for which Paganini
was so justly celebrated, were introduced with the greatest effect; and,
after a close shake of eight bars’ duration, commenced the coda, a
prestissimo movement, played in three parts throughout. This part of the
performance was perfectly magical. I have heard the great Italian—I have
heard the Norwegian—I have heard the best of music—but I never heard
such sounds as then saluted my ear. It commenced _p p p_, rising by a
gradual _crescendo_ to a pitch beyond belief, and then, by a gradual
_morendo_ and _calando_, died away, leaving the audience absolutely
enchanted. Monsieur Marreppe, who is a player of no mean order, then
came forward amidst the most deafening acclamations, and stated that,
emulated by the example of Vaucanson’s flute-player, he had conceived
the project of constructing this figure, which had cost him many years
of study and labour before he could bring it to completion. He then
showed to the company the interior of the figure, which was completely
filled with _small cranks_, by which the motions are given to the
several parts of the automaton, at the will of the conductor, who has
the whole machine so perfectly under control, that Monsieur Marreppe
proposes that the automaton shall perform any piece of music which may
be laid before him, within a fortnight. He also showed that to a certain
extent the figure was self-acting, as, on winding up a string, several
of the most beautiful airs were played, among which were “Nel
cor più,” “Partant pour la Syrie,” “Weber’s last Waltz,” and “La
ci darem la mano,” all with brilliant embellishments. But the
_chef-d’œuvre_ is the manner in which the figure is made to obey
the direction of the conductor, whereby it is endowed with a sort of
semi-reason.”—_Galignani’s Messenger._

_The Street Fiddler._—Behold the poor fellow, as he stands there in the
sun, against that dead wall, with a face that betrays many a foregone
year of patient endurance, and a figure that is the very index to
“narrow circumstances.” His old brown great coat, loose and
hard-worn—his battered hat—his shoes unconscious of blacking—are the
vouchers of his low estate. He wears “the hapless vesture of humility.”
He is half-blind, and will be _wholly_ so before long, for blindness is
the badge of his sad tribe;—but _then_—he will have a _companion_, in
the _dog_ that will lead him about!

See, how sobered is his style of execution—how passive his action! The
fire of enthusiasm is not for _him_: he can but shew the plodding of a
quiet spirit. He holdeth his bow, not as your topping players do, but
with a third part of its length below his hand. He finds this plan the
easiest, because it is his wont to work more from the _shoulder_ than
the _wrist_! Think no scorn of him, ye great artists—ye _triumphant_
euphonists! He is self-taught,—or, which is the same thing, hath learned
of his father, who was _alter ipse_, and who himself got his knowledge
“in the family.” Yet, though his bow-arm hath none of the sweep that
belongs to science, behold how he puts mettle into the heels of infancy,
and even peradventure brings a wriggle into the sides of old age: such
power is there in the notes of a fiddle, even in the hands of
decrepitude itself! The nursery-maids, who cannot condescend to _talk_
with a street-fiddler, as they would with a young policeman, accord a
smile, nevertheless, to some of his “passages,” and a halfpenny to his
pauperism. Musician as he is, or would be _called_ (for poverty has its
pride), do not test him with terms, or ask him the meaning of a “common
chord:” he will think you design to insult his misery with a dependent
allusion! Him _harmony_ concerneth not, nor counterpoint either;—he is a
simple _melodist_, and, to him, a few old tunes are the entire world of
music. After all, too, the finest melody in _his_ ear, is the sound of
human sympathy; and the best of music is the rattle of frequent
halfpence in his hat—a hat by night, a money-box by day! His daily
gains, what are they? A sorry pittance, truly; yet the poor old fellow,
albeit no classic, manages to live on the Horatian plan, “contentus
parvo,” and is very far from being the most thankless of mortals,
although

  “For all his _shifts_, he cannot shift _his clothes_.”

It is not always people of the finest ear, who are the most intolerant
of ambulating fiddlers. There are some _dull_ persons who have little
other notion of music in _any_ shape, than as so much _noise_. The
complaint of these against the poor starveling here described, is that
he makes so _loud_ a noise. Let us only (with sly allusion to the early
name for the barbarous instrument) ask them one question—although even a
bad joke may be quite thrown away upon the dull:

  Say, wherefore should it _not_ be loud,
  The noise proceeding from a _crowd_?

And, while employing this kind of excuse, which will perhaps be received
as better than none, in behalf of a fraternity, who, if they _torment_ a
little, unquestionably do much more _suffer_, I may as well go on to
offer the following such-as-it-is

APOLOGY FOR MATTHEW MARKIT, A “COMMON FIDDLER.”

  Let not wrath against him gather—
    Call him not a useless bore!
  Would you not, this dirty weather,
    Have _a scraper at your door_?
  Such is he;—nay, more than that,
    He’s a _Scraper, and a—Mat_!

I do remember an itinerant, who used to sing a piece of dismal
merriment, with a squeaking violin accompaniment, to the appropriate
burden of “Heigh ho! fiddle de dee!” and a very wry face at each
recurrence of this peculiar interjection. He much affected Knightsbridge
and Hyde Park Corner, but was likewise visible at other points of the
metropolis. His wife, a diminutive body, with a small whine by way of
voice, helped to make “variety of wretchedness” in the exhibition. They
looked as if familiar with none but the copper coinage of the realm. Yet
they had generally their _côterie_ around them—their “assistance
admirative.” To be musical, _any how_, passes for a talent!

I will not suppose my readers so oblivious of an elderly joke, as not to
recognize the face of that which is about to greet them; but, having
found a version of it “turned to numbers,” I present it—a little “rubbed
up” for the occasion—to the indulgent attention of those who have only
met with it in prosaic statement:

  A blind man, fed by fiddling,
    Was known through many a street;
  His “style,” far short of “middling,”
    With some did pass for sweet.
  He priz’d his fiddle greatly;
    The _case_ had fainter praise—
  The _case_ by “wife” made lately,
    With half a yard of baize.
  One day, when, led by Rover,
    He had a bridge to pass,
  His fiddle tumbled over,
    Stick, case, and all, alas!
  He straight set up a roaring,
    And added such grimace,
  That folks around came pouring,
    And pitied his sad case.
  “Sad _case_! Psha! twiddle diddle!”
    Cried he, with scornful face;
  “Could I but get my _fiddle_
    D’ye think I’d mind _the case_?”

Having thus made ourselves familiar with the street fiddler, and
thereby, as it were, “sounded the very base-string of humility,” may we
not be fairly supposed to have reached the _fag-end_ of our subject?
Whilst on this lower level, however—or, in what may be termed the Vale
of Cacophony—I cannot conclude, without offering to the patience of my
kind readers two more scraps of verse, wherein I have sought to exhibit
a pair of specimens that belong, equally with the poor street fiddler,
to the class of—those that _might_ be dispensed with:

EPIGRAM

ON AN UNFORTUNATE MAN, AND BAD FIDDLER.

  Though DIBBLE is feeble in all that he’s _at_,
    Few fools ever _fondled a failure_ before, so.
  In love, as in music, he stands for a _flat_—
    (For his Fanny is false, and his fiddle is _more_ so),
  While _he_ still ignoreth—what none can dispute—
  That his suit’s out of tune, and his tune doesn’t suit!

ANOTHER, ON ANOTHER BAD FIDDLER.

  When SCREECHLEY on that _noise-box_ harshly grates,
    What, what’s the supposition that must follow?
  _This_—that by some odd shifting of the Fates,
    ’Tis _Marsyas_’ turn to flay alive _Apollo_!

[Illustration: FINIS]

ADDENDUM.

FEMALE VIOLINISTS.

   “Place aux dames!”

   [This section of the Work, which should have formed Chapter VIII,
   having been accidentally omitted in the printing, there remained
   no other course than, either to insert it here (as is actually
   done), or, by a dismissal utterly at variance with the laws of
   gallantry and of justice, to exclude it altogether, and so to
   debar the fairer portion of the community from all participation
   in the honours connected with the “King of Instruments”—an idea
   not to be for a moment entertained. If, in this volume, as in a
   campaigning army, the ladies find themselves placed altogether in
   _the rear_—let them attribute the position, in _this_ case as in
   _that_, to anything but disrespect.]

Instead of a _bow-arm_, must ladies be allowed only the _arm_ of a
_beau_? Why should not a lady play on the Violin? The common objection
is, that it is ungraceful. The ladies in Boccaccio’s Decameron,
however—and who shall charge _them_ with want of grace?—played on the
_viol_, a bowed instrument requiring from the performer a similar
position and handling to those exacted by the violin. If this latter
instrument, considered in relation to a lady, _should_ be admitted to be
somewhat deficient in grace,—has not the lady, out of the overflowing
abundance of this quality, which is her sex’s characteristic, some of it
to spare for communication to the instrument? Can she not impart some
of it to whatsoever object she chooses to associate with herself?
Surely, she who can transform the rudest of beings from a bear to a man,
and from a man to a gentleman, can lend a few spare charms to so
grateful a receiver as the fiddle, which is found to repay in so
eloquent a manner the attentions bestowed on it. But if the doubters
continue to shake their heads at this, I would ask them whether, after
all, we are to expect grace in _every_ act and habit of a lady’s life,
and call on her to reject every thing that may be thought inconsistent
with it? Our modern respected fair one may, like Eve, have “heaven in
her eye;” but really, looking at some of the offices which we are
content to thrust upon her, it seems rather too much to insist that she
shall also, like our original mother, have “grace in _all_ her
movements.” Is there grace in making a pie, or cutting bread and butter,
or darning a stocking? If we have grace in the _effect_, shall we be
rigid to require it in the _means_ also? Now, the grace which belongs to
violin-playing is _audible_ rather than _visible_, residing in the
effect more than in the means: nor ought we to be such cormorants of
pleasure, as to demand that the person who is filling our _ears_ with
rapture, shall, at the same time, be enchanting to the utmost our
_eyes_. If, then, a lady, full of soul and intelligence, is capable of
expressing these through the fine medium which this instrument offers,
should she be debarred from it, and restricted perhaps to the harp,
because, forsooth, the grace that is merely external is found most in
association with the latter? Let us only be reasonable enough to be
satisfied, on principle, with the delicious effect that visits us
through the ears, and we shall then give no hyper-critical heed to the
rapid action of a lady’s arm in a _presto_ movement, or to the
depression of her head in holding the instrument; nor shall we continue
to demand, with a pertinacity more nice than wise, that a feminine
fiddler be

  “Graceful as Dian when she draws _her_ bow.”

That exquisite sensibility which is one distinguishing charm of the
female character, has its fittest musical exponent in the powers of
the violin, which, therefore, in this particular sense, might even be
styled the women’s own instrument: but, without going so far as this,
there seems no sufficient reason why it should not, occasionally,
be honored by figuring in the hands of the fair. Should these
defensive remarks, however, be found unsatisfactory by your
anti-women’s-playing-the-violin-at-all sort of people, I have nothing
farther to say to them, but leave them to quote, undisturbed, their “quæ
sunt virorum, mascula dicas,” &c. For my own part, I think so highly
both of the ladies and the violin, that I rejoice at every opportunity
of their being introduced to each other, and am delighted to know that,
from time to time, certain clever and spirited women _have_ been found
ready to overcome the prejudices that have so long kept them asunder.
Let us by all means enquire who these are.

A very high name meets us at the outset of our investigation—no less a
one than that of QUEEN ELIZABETH. This exalted personage, who is
recorded to have been musical “so far forth as might become a princess,”
appears to have amused herself not only with the lute, the virginals,
and her own voice, but with the violin. An instrument of this
denomination, of the old and imperfect fashion, but splendidly “got up,”
has been traced to her possession. If any particulars of Her Majesty’s
style of performance could now be obtained, it would doubtless be found
that she displayed, in no common degree, what is called “a powerful
bow-arm,” but that she neglected the “sweet little touches” that give
delicacy to execution.

To arrive at instances nearer to our own time, let us go at once from
the Queen of England to Madame MARA, the Queen of Song. Her first
musical studies were directed to the violin. When yet an infant, the
little Gertrude Elizabeth Smaling (such was her name) discovered so
strong an inclination for the violin, that her father was induced to
give her a few lessons on that instrument. Her progress was so rapid,
that, as early as her tenth year, she excited the public surprise. It is
certain that the development of her vocal powers was not a little aided
by this cultivation of an instrument that may be called the friendly
rival of the human voice. She herself was known to declare, that, if she
had a daughter, she should learn the fiddle before she sang a note; for
(as she remarked) how can you convey a just notion of minute variations
in the pitch of a note? By a fixed instrument? No! By the voice? No!
but, by sliding the fingers upon a string, you instantly make the
slightest variations visibly, as well as audibly, perceptible. It was by
her early practice of the violin, that this celebrated woman had
acquired her wonderful facility of dashing at all musical intervals,
however unusual and difficult. She married a violoncellist, of no great
capacity, except for drinking.

MADDALENA LOMBARDINI SIRMEN, who united to high accomplishment as a
singer such an eminence in violin-playing, as enabled her, in some
degree, to rival Nardini, had an almost European reputation towards the
end of the last century. She received her first musical instructions at
the Conservatory of the _Mendicanti_ at Venice, and then took lessons
on the violin from Tartini. About the year 1780, she visited France and
England. This feminine artist composed a considerable quantity of violin
music, a great part of which was published at Amsterdam. A curious
document is extant as a relic of the correspondence between this lady
and Tartini. It consists of a perceptive letter from the great master,
the original of which, along with a translation by Dr. Burney, was
published in London in 1771. From this pamphlet, which is now among the
rarities of musical literature, I shall here give the Doctor’s English
version of the letter:

  “My very much esteemed

  “SIGNORA MADDALENA,

  “Finding myself at length disengaged from the weighty business
  which has so long prevented me from performing my promise to you,
  I shall begin the instructions you wish from me, by letter; and
  if I should not explain myself with sufficient clearness, I
  entreat you to tell me your doubts and difficulties, in writing,
  which I shall not fail to remove in a future letter.

  “Your principal practice and study should, at present, be
  confined to the use and power of the _bow_, in order to make
  yourself entirely mistress in the execution and expression of
  whatever can be played or sung, within the compass and ability of
  your instrument. Your first study, therefore, should be the true
  manner of holding, balancing, and pressing the bow lightly, but
  steadily, upon the strings, in such manner as that it shall seem
  to _breathe_ the first tone it gives, which must proceed from the
  friction of the string, and not from percussion, as by a blow
  given with a hammer upon it. This depends on laying the bow
  lightly upon the strings, at the first contact, and on gently
  pressing it afterwards; which, if done gradually, can scarce have
  too much force given to it—because, if the tone is _begun_ with
  delicacy, there is little danger of rendering it afterwards
  either coarse or harsh.

  “Of this first contact, and delicate manner of beginning a tone,
  you should make yourself a perfect mistress, in every situation
  and part of the bow, as well in the middle as at the extremities;
  and in moving it up, as well as in drawing it down. To unite all
  these laborious particulars into one lesson, my advice is, that
  you first exercise yourself in a swell upon an open string—for
  example, upon the second, or _la_: that you begin _pianissimo_,
  and increase the tone by slow degrees to its _fortissimo_; and
  this study should be equally made, with the motion of the bow up,
  and down; in which exercise you should spend at least _an hour_
  every day, though at different times, a little in the morning,
  and a little in the evening; having constantly in mind that this
  practice is, of all others, the most difficult, and the most
  essential to playing well on the Violin. When you are a perfect
  mistress of this part of a good performer, a swell will be very
  easy to you—beginning with the most minute softness, increasing
  the tone to its loudest degree, and diminishing it to the same
  point of softness with which you began; and all this in the same
  stroke of the bow. Every degree of pressure upon the string,
  which the expression of a note or passage shall require, will, by
  this means, be easy and certain; and you will be able to execute
  with your bow whatever you please. After this, in order to
  acquire that light pulsation and play of the wrist from whence
  velocity in bowing arises, it will be best for you to practise,
  every day, one of the _allegros_, of which there are three, in
  Corelli’s solos, which entirely move in semiquavers. The first is
  in D, in playing which you should accelerate the motion a little
  each time, till you arrive at the greatest degree of swiftness
  possible. But two precautions are necessary in this exercise. The
  first is, that you play the notes _staccato_, that is, separate
  and detached, with a little space between every two, as if there
  was a rest after each note. The second precaution is, that you
  first play with the point of the bow; and, when that becomes easy
  to you, that you use that part of it which is between the point
  and the middle; and, when you are likewise mistress of this part
  of the bow, that you practise in the same manner with the middle
  of the bow. And, above all, you must remember, in these studies,
  to begin the _allegros_ or flights sometimes with an up-bow, and
  sometimes with a _down-bow_, carefully avoiding the habit of
  constantly practising one way.

  “In order to acquire a greater facility of executing swift
  passages in a light and neat manner, it will be of great use if
  you accustom yourself to skip over a string between two quick
  notes in divisions. Of such divisions you may play extempore as
  many as you please, and in every key, which will be both useful
  and necessary.

  “With regard to the finger-board, or carriage of the left hand, I
  have one thing strongly to recommend to you, which will suffice
  for all, and that is the taking a violin part—either the _first_
  or _second_ of a concerto, sonata, or song (any thing will serve
  the purpose)—and playing it upon the _half-shift_; that is, with
  the first finger upon G on the first string, and constantly
  keeping upon this shift, playing the whole piece without moving
  the hand from this situation, unless A on the fourth string be
  wanted, or D upon the first but, in that case, you should
  afterwards return again to the half-shift, without ever moving
  the hand down to the natural position. This practice should be
  continued till you can execute with facility upon the half-shift
  any violin part, not intended as a solo, at sight. After this,
  advance the hand on the finger-board to the whole-shift, with the
  first finger upon A on the first string, and accustom yourself to
  this position, till you can execute every thing upon the whole
  shift with as much ease as when the hand is in its natural
  situation; and when certain of this, advance to the
  _double-shift_, with the first finger upon B on the first string.
  When sure of that likewise, pass to the fourth position of the
  hand, making C with the first finger, upon the first string: and,
  indeed, this is a scale in which, when you are firm, you may be
  said to be mistress of the finger-board. This study is so
  necessary, that I most earnestly recommend it to your attention.

  “I now pass to the third essential part of a good performer on
  the Violin, which is the making a good _shake_; and I would have
  you practise it slowly, moderately fast, and quickly; that is,
  with the two notes succeeding each other in these three degrees
  of _adagio_, _andante_, and _presto_; and, in practice, you have
  great occasion for these different kinds of shakes; for the same
  shake will not serve with equal propriety for a slow movement as
  for a quick one. To acquire both at once with the same trouble,
  begin with an open string—either the first or second, it will be
  equally useful: sustain the note in a swell, and begin the shake
  very slowly, increasing in quickness by insensible degrees, till
  it becomes rapid. You must not rigorously move immediately from
  semiquavers to demisemiquavers, or from these to the next in
  degree; that would be doubling the velocity of the shake all at
  once, which would be a _skip_, not a _gradation_; but you can
  imagine, between a semiquaver and a demisemiquaver, intermediate
  degrees of rapidity, quicker than the one, and slower than the
  other of these characters. You are, therefore, to increase in
  velocity, by the same degrees, in practising the shake, as in
  loudness, when you make a swell.

  “You must attentively and assiduously persevere in the practice
  of this embellishment, and begin at first with an open string,
  upon which, if you are once able to make a good shake with the
  first finger, you will, with the greater facility, acquire one
  with the second, the third, and the fourth or little finger, with
  which you must practise in a particular manner, as more feeble
  than the rest of its brethren.

  “I shall at present propose no other studies to your application:
  what I have already said is more than sufficient, if your zeal is
  equal to my wishes for your improvement. I hope you will
  sincerely inform me whether I have explained clearly thus far;
  that you will accept of my respects, which I likewise beg of you
  to present to the Princess, to Signora Teresa, and to Signora
  Clara, for all whom I have a sincere regard; and believe me to
  be, with great affection,

  “Your obedient and most humble servant,

  “GIUSEPPE TARTINI.”

REGINA SCHLICK, wife of a noted German Violoncellist and Composer, was
celebrated under her maiden name of Sacchi, as well as afterwards, for
her performance on the violin. She was born at Mantua in 1764, and
received her musical education at the _Conservatorio della Pietà_, at
Venice. She afterwards passed some years at Paris. This lady was a
particular friend of Mozart’s, and, being in Vienna, about the year
1786, solicited the great composer to write something for their joint
performance at her concert. With his usual kindness, Mozart promised to
comply with her request, and, accordingly, composed and arranged in his
mind the beautiful Sonata for the piano and violin, in B flat minor,
with its solemn adagio introduction. But it was necessary to go from
_mind_ to _matter_—that is, to put the combined ideas into visible form,
in the usual way. The destined day approached, and not a note was
committed to paper! The anxiety of Madame Schlick became excessive, and,
at length, the earnestness of her entreaties was such, that Mozart could
no longer procrastinate. But his favorite and seductive game of
billiards came in the way; and it was only the very evening before the
concert, that he sent her the manuscript, in order that she might study
it by the following afternoon. Happy to obtain the treasure, though so
late, she scarcely quitted it for a moment’s repose. The concert
commenced: the Court was present, and the rooms were crowded with the
rank and fashion of Vienna. The sonata began; the composition was
beautiful, and the execution of the two artists perfect in every
respect. The audience was all rapture—the applause enthusiastic: but
there was one distinguished personage in the room, whose enjoyment
exceeded that of all the other auditors—the Emperor Joseph II, who, in
his box, just over the heads of the performers, using his opera-glass to
look at Mozart, perceived that there was nothing upon his music-desk but
a sheet of white paper! At the conclusion of the concert, the Emperor
beckoned Mozart to his box, and said to him, in a half-whisper, “So,
Mozart, you have once again trusted to chance!”—“Yes, your Majesty,”
replied the composer, with a smile that was half triumph and half
confusion. Had Mozart—not _studied_—but merely _played over_, this music
_once_ with the lady, it would not have been so wonderful: but he had
never even heard the Sonata _with_ the violin[68].

LOUISE GAUTHEROT, a Frenchwoman, was also distinguished on this
instrument. In 1789 and 1790, she performed concertos at the London
Oratorios, making great impression by the fine ability she manifested.
In referring to this lady’s professional achievements, one of those who
refuse to consider violin-playing as “an excellent thing in woman,” has
indulged in the following remarks: “It is said, by fabulous writers,
that Minerva, happening to look into a stream whilst playing her
favorite instrument, the flute, and perceiving the distortion of
countenance it occasioned, was so much disgusted, that she cast it away,
and dashed it to pieces! Although I would not recommend, to any lady
playing on a valuable Cremona fiddle, to follow the example of the
goddess, yet it strikes me that, if she is desirous of enrapturing her
audience, she should display her talent in a situation where there is
only just light enough to make darkness visible.”—Shall we reply,
ladies, to a detractor who is forced to seek support for his opinions in
“fabulous writers,” and, even then, drags forward that which is no
parallel case? Nay, nay, let him pass! Let him retire into the darkness
which he so unwarrantably recommends to others!

LUIGIA GERBINI, who ranks among the pupils of Viotti, attained
considerable credit as a performer. In 1799, her execution of some
violin concertos, between the acts, at the Italian Theatre in Lisbon,
was attended with marked success; as were afterwards her vocal exertions
at the same Theatre. This lady visited Madrid in 1801; and, some years
later, gave evidence of her instrumental talent at some public concerts
in London.

SIGNORA PARAVICINI, another pupil of Viotti’s, earned a widely spread
fame as a violinist. At Milan, where various fêtes were given in
celebration of the battle of Lodi, the wife of Bonaparte was very
favorably impressed, during one of these, by the talents of Madame
Paravicini. Josephine, a woman of generosity as well as taste, became
the patroness of this lady, engaged her to instruct her son, Eugène
Beauharnois, and afterwards took her to Paris. However, for some reason
not publicly known, Madame Paravicini was, after a time, neglected by
Josephine; in consequence of which, and of other misfortunes, she became
so distressed in her circumstances, as to be compelled to live on the
money produced by the sale of her wearing-apparel. Driven at last to the
utmost exigence, she had no remaining resource, except that of applying
to the benevolence of the Italians then in Paris, who enabled her to
redeem her clothes, and return to Milan. There, her abilities again
procured her competence and credit. Her performance was much admired
also at Vienna, where, in 1827, she

  “Flourished her _bow_, and showed how _fame_ was won.”

According to the report which travelled in her favour from thence, she
evinced a full and pure tone—a touch possessing the solidity and
decision of the excellent school in which were formed a Kreutzer and a
Lafont—and a mode of bowing so graceful, as to triumph over all
preconceived ideas of the awkwardness of the instrument in a female
hand. Madame Paravicini, in the course of her professional migrations,
was performing at Bologna in the year 1832.

CATARINA CALCAGNO, born at Genoa in 1797, received, as a child, some
instructions from the potential Paganini; and, at the age of fifteen,
astonished Italy by the fearless freedom of her play—but seems to have
left no traces of her career, beyond the year 1816.

Madame KRAHMEN, in 1824, executed a violin concerto of Viotti’s, with
great spirit and effect, at a concert in Vienna. At Prague, in the same
year, a young lady named SCHULZ gave public delight as a violin
performer. Mademoiselle ELEANORA NEUMANN, of Moscow, pupil of Professsor
Morandi, also astonished the public in like manner at Prague, and at
Vienna, when she had scarcely reached her tenth year! She is said to
have treated the instrument with great effect, and with a precision and
purity of tone not always to be found in those “children of _larger_
growth” who are content to substitute feats of skill, in place of these
essential requisites.

Madame FILIPOWICZ, of Polish derivation, has given us evidence, in
London, not many years since, of the success with which feminine sway
_may_ be exercised over the most difficult of instruments.

The instances I have thus brought forward will probably be deemed
sufficient—_else_ were it easy to go backward again in date, and to
mention Horace Walpole’s visit to St. Cyr, in one of the apartments of
which serious establishment, he beheld the young ladies dancing minuets
and country-dances, while a nun, albeit “not quite so able as St.
Cecilia,” played on the violin!—Or, I might allude to the threefold
musical genius of Mrs. Sarah Ottey, who, in 1721-22, frequently
performed solos at concerts, on the harpsichord, violin, and base-viol!
Enough, however, has been produced, to shew “quid femina possit”—what
the fair sex _can_ achieve, upon the first and most fascinating of
instruments.

THE END.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] M. Cartier, Musicien de la Chapelle du Roi, announced for
publication, several years ago, an “Essai Historique sur le Violon, et
sur les progrès de l’Art Musical, depuis le moyen age.” This
announcement was accompanied by the following observations:—“An
Historical Essay upon the Violin may, at first sight, appear to many to
possess but little interest. They will not readily believe that it is
capable of exciting their liveliest curiosity, and of presenting an
object of real utility, inasmuch as an attempt will be made to lead the
mind from the mere mechanism of the art to a moral and scientific view
of the subject, and to a consideration how far the _beau idéal_ of music
is indebted to the violin. The author proves that this instrument was
unknown to _the ancients_, and derives its origin from the _Druids of
Gaul_, from whom it afterwards passed to the bards of Scotland—that,
from this obscure beginning, it made its way through the dark ages, with
slow but certain success, till the beginning of the 17th century, when
it attained the first rank among instruments.”—(_Harmonicon_, 1827.) I
have not been able to discover whether this promised treatise has yet
seen the light. The idea of tracing the instrument to the _Druids of
Gaul_ seems more romantic than rational; but it would be something
gained for _la gloire de la France_, could such a theory be
substantiated.

[2] In England, during the time here referred to, the instruments of the
viol class were so much in favour that every considerable family had, as
a necessary part of its establishment, a complete _chest of viols_, that
is to say, a treble, tenor and bass-viol, each played with a bow, and
bearing such proportion to one another as do the modern violin, tenor
and violoncello.

[3] “Memoirs of the Musical Drama.”

[4] M. Baillot makes a somewhat longer draft upon the past tense; for he
states, that for nearly _three hundred years_ back there has been no
change in the structure of the violin.—Introduction to the “Méthode de
Violon du Conservatoire.”

[5] They who enjoy the advantage of access to curious books may see a
figure of a Provençal Fiddler in “Diez, Poesie der Troubadour.” Viol was
the old Norman French name for the fiddle used by the minstrels of the
middle ages, which was furnished variously with 3, 4, 5, or 6 strings.
Viula was the Provençal term—and arson, or arçon, for the _bow_.

[6] “It is a kinde of disparagement to be a cunning fiddler.”—_Feltham._

[7] The lute, of which hardly the shape, and still less the sound, are
now known, was, during the 16th and 17th centuries, the favourite
chamber instrument of every nation in Europe.

[8] According to Strutt, the name of _fiddlers_ was applied to the
_minstrels_ as early, at least, as the 14th century. “It occurs (says
that writer) in the Vision of Pierce the Ploughman, where we read, ‘not
to fare as a fydeler, or a frier, to seke feastes.’ It is also used, but
not sarcastically, in the poem of Launfel:—

  They had menstrelles of moche honours,
  Fydelers, sytolyrs, and trompoters.

“I remember also (says Strutt) a story recorded in a manuscript, written
about the reign of Edward III, of a young man of family, who came to a
feast, where many of the nobility were present, in a vesture called a
coat bardy, cut short in the German fashion, and resembling the dress of
a minstrel. The oddity of his habit attracted the notice of the company,
and especially of an elderly knight, to whom he was well known, who thus
addressed him: “Where, my friend, is your fiddle, your ribible, or
suchlike instrument belonging to a minstrel?” “Sir,” replied the young
man, “I have no crafte nor science in using such instruments.” “Then,”
returned the knight, “you are much to blame; for, if you choose to
debase yourself and your family by appearing in the garb of a minstrel,
it is fitting you should be able to perform his duty.”

[9] The miserable state of itinerant fiddlers, and other musicians, is
described by Putenham, in his _Arte of English Poesie_, printed in 1589;
and Bishop Hall, the satirist, adverting to their low condition,
describes them as

  Selling a laughter for a cold meale’s meat.

[10] The learned Wilhelm Grimm, who quotes this curious record from
_Storck, Darstellungen aus dem Rhein-und Mosellande_, conceives that
this armorial bearing fully explains the allusion to the fiddle of
Volker, the accomplished musician and warrior in the old poem of the
“Nibelungen Lied” (supposed of the 12th century), and forms a key to the
enigma of his being exhibited in the joint capacity of champion and
fiddler, and bearing his fiddle, that is, his _arms_, into the battle
with him.

[11] The readiness of an apothecary to _take up a viol_ does not seem,
after all, a thing so much out of course. The singularity is, rather,
that he should be able to _make so little of it_.

[12] The viol, less powerful and penetrating than its supplanter, the
violin, was not without its recommendatory qualities. Hawkins speaks of
“the sweet and delicate tone which distinguishes the viol species.” Old
Thomas Mace, who wrote when the viol was declining in fashion, was
emphatic in its praise. “Your best provision,” says he, “and most
compleat, will be a good _chest of_ viols; six in number, viz. 2 basses,
2 tenors, and 2 trebles; all truly and proportionally suited.”

[13] According to this loose diction of honest Anthony’s, it would
appear as if Troylus and Achilles had exhibited a rivalry on the violin,
like Lafont and Paganini!

[14] That the Italians (says M. Choron) have perfected every sort of
vocal composition, is generally agreed; but a fact which is apt to be
overlooked, is that they have been the instructors of all Europe in
instrumental composition, and that to them we are indebted for the first
and most esteemed models in that department of the art. It is the
Italians who invented all the various kinds of instrumental music which
we have called single pieces or solos, from the sonata to the concerto.
In violin music, Corelli, Tartini, and their pupils, preceded the
composers of all the other nations of Europe, to whom they have served
as models. The same may be said with regard to the harpsichord, from
Frescobaldi to Clementi. All other single pieces have been constructed
on the model of the compositions for the two instruments just named.

[15] At the time of Corelli’s greatest reputation, Geminiani asked
Scarlatti what he thought of him. The man of hard learning replied that
“he found nothing greatly to admire in his composition, but was
extremely struck with the manner in which he played his concertos, and
his nice management of his band, the uncommon accuracy of whose
performance gave the concertos an amazing effect, even to the _eye_, as
well as to the ear; for (as Geminiani explained) Corelli regarded it as
essential to a band that their bows should all move exactly together,
_all up_, or _all down_; so that, at his rehearsal, which constantly
preceded every public performance of his Concertos, he would immediately
stop the band, if he saw an irregular bow.

We may smile a little at Scarlatti’s criticism; but the smile may extend
at the same time to the quaint precision of the Corellian custom it
notices:—a custom which suggests the idea of military mechanism, as well
as military time; or rather, which reminds us, in a still more lively
manner, of the old nursery pæan.

  Here we go up, up, up,
  And here we go down, down, downy!

Scarlatti (it may be here observed) was the first who introduced into
his airs, accompaniments for the violin, as well as bits of
symphony;—thus both enriching the melody, and giving relief to the
singer.

[16] The only English editions of the above-named works are those
published by Messrs. Robert Cocks and Co.; one of which editions is
printed from the original plates of copper, which formed part of the
stock of Walsh, who printed for Handel.

[17] Burney has made the mistake of stating that the work dedicated to
the Cardinal was the _Opera Quinta_; and, although this was obviously a
mere slip of the pen, carrying with it its own contradiction, it is
curious to observe with what easy acquiescence the successive English
Compilers have reprinted the error.

[18] The overture is inserted in the printed collections of Handel’s
Overtures; and it is conjectured that it was the _first_ movement which
appeared so difficult to Corelli.

[19] This must have happened about the year 1708; as it appears that
Scarlatti was settled at Rome from 1709 to the time of his decease.
Corelli’s Concertos therefore must have been composed many years before
they were published.

[20] The coincidences suggested by this juxta-position are so inviting
for an epigrammatic twist, that the indulgent reader will perhaps,
pardon the following attempt:

  Each heading, in his art, the school of Rome,
  Painter and Fiddler here have found their tomb.
  Though dead in body, both in fame are quick—
  Fame wrought with _hair_ appended to a _stick_!
  So Genius triumphs, and her sway extends,
  By means minute attaining greatest ends.

[21] Dr. Burney dates his birth 1666; but Sir John Hawkins, who assigns
the date above given, is the more likely to be correct, as he was
personally acquainted with Geminiani.

[22] According to Dr. Burney’s reckoning, his term of years would have
been 96: the reason for supposing that authority erroneous has been
already stated.

[23] It is a somewhat curious circumstance that the descendant of
Carbonelli, with an _i_ less than his progenitor, is at this day
exercising that very liquid calling which finally prevailed with the man
of music. Whether, besides selling superlative wine, he makes any
pretension to support the ancestral honors on the violin, is a point I
am unable to determine.

[24] There is another account of this love episode in Tartini’s life,
which does not conduct it so far as matrimony, but represents that, when
all the arguments of his friends against the match were found to be
without effect, his father was compelled to confine him to his room; and
that, in order to engage his attention, he furnished him with books and
musical instruments, by means of which he _soon overcame his passion_!
This statement, so opposed to the general experience of such matters,
will easily be discredited by all youthful hearts. Cure a young
gentleman’s passion, his first love, by locking him up in a study!
Preposterous. Let us cling to the more current account, and confide in
probability and Dr. Burney.

[25] Of several treatises which Tartini has written, the one most
celebrated, his “Trattato di Musica, secondo in vera scienza dell’
Armonia,” is that in which he unfolds the nature of this discovery, and
deduces many observations tending to explain the musical scale, and, in
the opinion of some persons, to correct several of the intervals of
which it is composed.

[26] For Tartini’s judicious letter of elementary hints, addressed to
Madame Sirmen, see the chapter on _Female Violinists_.

[27] Query, _Solo_?—PRINTER’S IMP.

[28] See the reference to the old sacerdotal habit of fiddling, at page
55.

[29] In his “Sonate Accademiche,” _opera seconda_, published in London,
1744, we meet (observes Mr. G. F. Graham), on the page immediately
preceding the music, with the first example we have noticed in _Sonate_
of that time, of an explanation of marks of bowing and expression that
occur in the course of the work. His marks for _crescendo-diminuendo_,
and for _diminuendo_, and for _crescendo_, are of the same form as the
modern ones—only _black_ throughout.—His mark for an up-bow consists of
a vertical line drawn from the interior of a semi-circle placed
beneath it. His mark for a down-bow is the same figure reversed in
position;—Mʳ. for _mordente_, &c. These are things worth noticing in
old music. In pages 67-9, of the same work, Veracini gives the Scottish
air of Tweedside, with variations; the first instance we know, of
Scottish music being so honored by an old Italian violinist.

[30] “I cannot understand how _Arts_ and _Sciences_ should be subject
unto any such fantastical, giddy, or inconsiderate toyish conceits, as
ever to be said to be _in fashion_, or _out of fashion_.”—_Mace’s
Music’s Monument._

[31] It was remarked, while he was in England, that his execution was
astonishing, but that he dealt occasionally in such tricks as tended to
excite the risible faculty, rather than the admiration, of his auditors.

[32] Voltaire’s contempt for _bad_ playing seems to have equalled his
indifference towards _good_, as may be evidenced in the following lines
from his caustic pen:—

            toi, dont le violon
  Sous un archêt maudit par Apollon
  D’un ton si dur a _ráclé_, &c.

[33] Michael Kelly, who heard this artist at Vienna, on his return from
Russia, makes the following mention of him:—

“Giornovick, who was on his way from Russia to Paris, had been many
years first concerto-player at the court of Petersburgh. He was a man of
a certain age, but in the full vigour of talent: his tone was very
powerful, his execution most rapid, and his taste, above all, alluring.
No performer, in my remembrance, played such pleasing music. He
generally closed his concertos with a rondo, the subject of which was
some popular Russian air, to which he composed variations, with
enchanting taste.”

[34] Apropos of this deficiency of English, I find an anecdote in the
book of Parke, the oboist. He is describing the return from a
dinner-party.—“When we arrived at Tottenham-court Road, there being
several coaches on the stand, one was called for Jarnovicki, to convey
him home; but, on its coming up, although he had been in London several
years, he could not muster up English enough to name the street in which
he lived; and, none of the party knowing his residence, it produced a
dilemma, in which he participated, till, suddenly recollecting himself,
he broke out singing, _Marlbrouk s’en va-t-en guerre_, which enabled his
English friends to direct the coachman to Marlborough Street.”

[35] Parke, also, mentions the occurrence of this dispute, and the
challenge—stating, as the occasion, that Shaw had refused to leave his
proper station in the orchestra, to accompany Giornovichi.

[36] Authentic editions of these charming productions will be found in
the Catalogue of the Messrs. Robert Cocks and Co. who are the sole
publishers of Viotti’s Duos and Trios.

[37] It has been asserted that the _wire_ of his fourth string was
particularly fine and close, to ensure greater smoothness of surface,
and facilitate the sliding of the fingers.

[38] It is right to add here, that M. Guhr has subsequently reduced to a
system the results of his investigation into the peculiarities of
Paganini’s playing, and, illustrating the whole with copious examples,
has published it in a special work, of which an English version, under
the title of “Paganini’s Method of Playing the Violin,” has been put
forth by Messrs. Cocks and Co. The work is a curiosity in its kind, and
lays open, perhaps, as many of the great Artist’s labyrinthine recesses,
as could well be traced upon paper, for the guidance of those who would
toil in his track. Many of the difficulties thus exhibited to view, are
truly astounding—difficulties that look as inexpugnable as the
fortifications of Gibraltar! The _simultaneous four A’s flat_, do
“puzzle the will,” while the _artificial double harmonics_, and other
eagle-flights, cause an aching of “the mind’s eye,” in the attempt to
follow them. Ordinary students, in beholding such things, may well
experience a double shake of apprehension; but those of more energetic
fibre, and devoted patience, should by no means despair of attaining, at
least, a partial success in the undertaking.

Among the mechanical resources employed by Paganini, as essential for
the production of his extraordinary effects, M. Guhr mentions the
peculiar smallness or thinness of his strings—a quality the _reverse_ of
advantageous, as regards the _usual_ course of playing,—and his frequent
habit of screwing up his G string to B flat, through which device
certain passages, otherwise unmanageable, were brought within the scope
of possibility. Ordinary strings would resent this freedom of treatment
by a _snap_; but those of Paganini were, it seems, expressly fitted and
prepared for their _higher_ duty, in a way which M. Guhr minutely
explains.

[39] When Paganini was afterwards in England, it was observed by a rigid
time-keeper, who happened to attend one of his Concerts (at Winchester),
that his own portion of the performance, for which the requital was the
sum of £200, occupied just twenty-eight minutes.

[40] Duranowski, the Pole.

[41] M. Fétis, in his _Notice Biographique_, enters into a defence of
Paganini in this matter—explains the advantages of the _contract_
system, as liberating the artist from the petty cares that pertain to
concert-giving—and clears Paganini from the imputation of sordid
motives.

[42] _Some_ enlightenment on this point may be derived from a scrutiny
of M. Guhr’s Work, already referred to.

[43] Dr. Bennati read, before the _Royal Academy of Sciences_, at Paris,
a physiological notice of this extraordinary man, in which he gave it as
_his_ opinion, that his prodigious talent was mainly to be attributed to
the peculiar conformation which enabled him to bring his elbows close
together, and place them one over the other, to the elevation of his
left shoulder, which was an inch higher than the right; to the
slackening of the ligaments of the wrist, and the mobility of his
phalanges, which he could move in a lateral direction at pleasure. Dr.
Bennati also alluded to the excessive development of the cerebellum, as
connected with the extraordinary acuteness of his organs of hearing,
which enabled him to hear conversations carried on in a low tone, at
considerable distance.—M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire remarked that he had been
particularly struck with the prominence of the artist’s forehead, which
hung over his deeply-seated eyes like a pent-house.

[44] “_De l’Opéra en France._”

[45] Of harmony, or of fine melody, or of the higher relations between
poetry and music, the ostentatious Louis appears to have had no
conception. In a case of rivalry, wherein Battista, a scholar of
Corelli’s, played against one of the French band who was an ordinary
performer, he (the royal Auditor) preferred an air in “Cadmus” (an opera
of Lully’s, and not one of his best), as given by the Frenchman, to a
solo (probably of Corelli’s) by the Italian,—saying, “Voila mon gout, à
moi; Voila mon gout!”

[46] “Jamais homme n’à porté si haut l’art de jouer du violon: et cet
instrument était plus agréable entre ses mains qu’aucun autre de ceux
qui plaisent le plus.”—_Moreri, Dict. Historique._

[47] The above anecdote suggests another, of a somewhat similar cast,
pertaining to the great Musical Commemoration at Westminster Abbey, in
1791. A person falling upon a double bass, as it lay on its side,
immediately disappeared—nothing being seen of him, except his legs
protruding out of the instrument; and for some time no one could assist
him, owing to the laughter occasioned by his predicament!

[48] “Paris est le foyer musical de la France: les astres les plus
brillans roulent dans cette région préférée; mais hélas! leurs rayons ne
portent pas la lumière une grande distance. A peine sommes nous sortis
des portes de cette capitale, que nous tombons soudain dans une
obscurité profonde.”—(_Castil-Blaze, de l’Opéra en France._)

[49] “_Equisse de l’Histoire du Violon._”

[50] The universal diffusion of musical tendencies among the Germans has
been often made the subject of remark. A late traveller, visiting the
Theatre at Cassel, says that the orchestra there was half filled with
_officers_, who fiddled in their regimental uniform, without considering
the practice as at all derogatory from their dignity.

[51] Dr. Burney remarks that Geminiani used to claim the _invention_ of
the half-shift on the violin, and that he probably first brought it to
England; but that the Italians ascribed it to Vivaldi, and others to the
elder Matteis, who came hither in King William’s time.

[52] Of _Tassenberg_, a fine player, who came over to England with
William Cramer, little can be said. As he fell speedily into obscurity,
I place him here below in a note. With capacity for achieving a
position, but with no prudence for its retention, he endured much misery
through his own reckless follies. To some one who was once enquiring
where he _lived_, the reply was, “In and about the brick-kilns at
Tothill-Fields.”

[53] Apropos of the violoncello—let us here bestow a passing glance on
the name of _Merk_, distinguished more recently than that of Bernard
Romberg, in connection with the larger instrument. Merk seems to have
made a closer approach to our eminent Robert Lindley, in quality of
taste, than in firmness of hand, or brilliancy of tone. Mr. Novello, who
has rated him higher than any of our players, _except_ Lindley, adds a
remark with reference to the _double basses_ used in Germany—that they
have frequently, instead of _three_ strings, a complement of _four_,
thinner than those in use with us, and descending to E below the usual
scale—and that, when mixed with other instruments of the same class, the
depth and richness they produce are very fine.

[54] Life of Anthony à Wood, Oxford, 1772, p. 88, &c.

[55] In process of time, these compositions likewise were supplanted by
Martini’s Concertos and Sonatas, which, in their turn, were abandoned
for the Symphonies of Van Malder, and the sonatas of the elder Stamitz.
Afterwards, the trios of Campioni, Zanetti, and Abel came into play, and
then the symphonies of Stamitz, Canabich, Holtzbauer, and other Germans,
with those of Abel, Bach, and Giardini; which, having done their duty,
“slept with their fathers,” and gave way to those of Vanhall, Pleyel,
and Boccherini; and all have now gradually sunk into insignificance,
eclipsed by the superior brightness and grandeur of Haydn, Mozart,
Beethoven, Cherubini, and some others, whose symphonies are the delight
and wonder of the existing generation. So runs the changeful course of
musical success!

[56] As a grandson of the individual here recorded, the writer of these
pages may perhaps find licence to mention that there is extant in his
family a fine portrait of Dubourg, by the Dutch painter Vander Smissen,
interesting for the qualities of intelligence and good-humour that are
blended in its expression.

[57] Vide “Records of a Stage Veteran,” in the New Monthly Magazine.

[58] As to this asserted advantage of resorting to _chemical agency_,
the joke is somewhat of the oldest—so we may as well turn its coat, and
it will then wear the aspect of the following

HINT TO PURCHASERS.

  To buy a fiddle when about,
    Your way unto a Chemist’s win,
  Where, if but twelve-pence you lay out,
    You’re sure to get a _vial_ “_in_.”

[59] Should there be any to whom the foregoing estimate (which aims at
being a candid one) may seem to render imperfect justice to the claims
it deals with, I can only remind them that they have the same freedom as
myself to indulge their opinion, and to assert it. Nay, I will even
furnish them with four measured lines, by way of a text from which to
expand their own more propitious adjudication; provided only, that they
will accept them as conceived in any other spirit than that of
ill-nature, which is hereby wholly disavowed:—

  Ask not how long shall flourish yet his fame,
    Nor when shall cease the record of his glory!
  Oblivion _dares not_ to efface his name,
    Since e’en the _tomb_ cries out “_Memento Mori_!”

[60] “Diffuse the tuneful lenitives of pain.”—_Johnson._

[61] It must be borne in mind, that the three Quartett Concerts had been
given, with Mr. Dando as Leader, at the Horn Tavern; and the four
“Concerti da Camera,” at the Hanover Square Rooms;—that both parties had
advertised their forthcoming series;—and that it was pretty extensively
rumoured that the Blagrove, Gattie, Dando, and Lucas party had combined
to try their fortune in the new field.

[62] In the getting-up of Concertos for the annual _Concours_ in Paris,
the Violin students exercise a perseverance and length of labour truly
surprising; and, in the result, such is the perfect manner in which the
same Concerto is executed successively by sometimes a dozen candidates,
that it would puzzle the most skilful judges to discriminate the
individual to whom the prize should be awarded. In such cases, were it
not for the subsequent resource—the safe and certain test of
sight-playing, which brings into operation the intellect as well as the
hand—it would perhaps be impossible to give a single decision that
should not be open to dispute. Thus great is the power of execution
which practice confers—and thus rigorous, the _need_ of that practice!

[63] If an Amateur, who is capable of murdering time, should yet have
the grace of a disposition to offer some _apology_ for the act, I would
suggest his quoting, for that purpose, the subjoined rhyming octave:—

  “Cease, cease this fiddling,” cried Sir John,
   To Ned, his tune-perplexing son—
  “You _lose your time_, you idle lout.”
  “No, sir, my time I keep, throughout.”
  “Psha! _keep_ time! no, _kill_ time, you mean,”
   Mutter’d the father, full of spleen.
  “_Kill_ him! well, sure, sir, I’m no zany,
   For killing him who has killed _so many_.”

[64] The injurious and disqualifying effect of musical vanity,
complained of in France as well as here, is thus noticed by M.
Castil-Blaze:—“Although music is every where taught to our youth, and is
an art cultivated by a very considerable number of Amateurs, we find
very few amongst them who are really useful with regard to playing in
concert. And this proceeds, partly, from the fact of each individual
desiring to occupy the first place. I have known violin-players renounce
their instrument, because of finding themselves restricted to the
_second part_. As for your _tenor_, it is a department not to be
mentioned, and is left in the hands of those good elderly dullards who
have already forgotten the half of what they never very well knew.”

[65] As it is neither hoped nor intended that this chapter should
constitute a _gradus_, or complete code of instruction for the young
student, I do but hint at a _few_ of the streams of information that
Footnote: are open to him. A more extended view of these would result to
him from a reference to the printed catalogues of those very diligent
purveyors of _pabulum_ for auricular purposes, Messrs. Cocks and Co.;
but, should he look upon a copious Catalogue as little better than a
strange road without a guide, or a labyrinth without a _clue_—and should
he have no _live_ preceptor at hand, to consult—I would point his
attention to an available help from the same quarter, namely,
“_Hamilton’s Catechism for the Violin_,” small in compass as in cost,
wherein he will find, briefly indicated, the various steps by which,
with due regard to continuous advancement, he should make his way.

[66] It is noticeable, as among the advantages due to this enterprise,
that the text of the great Master, whose name it borrows, has been
rescued (so far as relates to his Quartetts) from the numerous _errors_
wherewith all the editions were chargeable; and that a new edition,
edited by Monsieur Rousselot (through whose labours that purification
was mainly accomplished) has been submitted to the public by Messrs.
Cocks & Co.

[67] Among the meritorious doings of provincial Amateurs (albeit _not_
in the way of Quartetts), I would here take occasion to mention the
Brighton “Choral Society,” commenced in 1835, under the zealous
management of Mr. H. Woledge, whose funds, as well as his time and
talent, were liberally contributed to the undertaking. That social
combination, although not continued beyond its third season, has been
followed by the Brighton “Amateur Symphony Society,” which, with Mr. B.
Thom for its Leader, and Mr. Woledge as its Secretary, is at this time
pursuing its career of recreative euphony. Such Societies as this last,
though they do not form quartett-players, can qualify their members to
supply, with creditable effect, some of the demands of an orchestra.

[68] When twenty-four bits, instead of twelve, are used for the
_purfling_, and when the _tail-piece_ is made of _two_ bits, the total
number of pieces extends to _seventy-one_!

[69] Anecdotes of Mozart, by Frederic Rochlitz.

PRINTED BY J. MALLETT, 59, WARDOUR STREET, LONDON. WORKS FOR
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OTTO ON THE STRUCTURE AND PRESERVATION OF THE VIOLIN, ENLARGED EDITION,
8VO. BOARDS, BY JOHN BISHOP,

(_With Illustrations_).

PRICE THREE SHILLINGS.

A TREATISE

ON THE

STRUCTURE AND PRESERVATION

OF THE

VIOLIN,

AND

ALL OTHER BOW INSTRUMENTS;

TOGETHER WITH

An Account of the most celebrated Makers, and of the genuine
Characteristics of their Instruments;

BY

JACOBUS AUGUSTUS OTTO,

_Instrument Maker to the Court of the Grand Duke of Wiemar_.

Translated from the Original, with Additions and Illustrations,

BY

JOHN BISHOP,

OF CHELTENHAM.

ROBERT COCKS & CO. LONDON.

OTTO ON THE CONSTRUCTION AND PRESERVATION OF THE VIOLIN, ENLARGED
EDITION, BY JOHN BISHOP.

_From the Author’s Preface._

“I have been induced to draw up a minute description of the construction
of the Violin and all other bow instruments, together with a careful
explanation of the forms of the genuine Italian instruments, by which
they may be clearly distinguished from the spurious imitations. I shall
specify those makers who, next to the Cremonese, have produced the best
instruments and worked on the most correct mathematical principles, and
shall treat at large of the rules which should be observed in repairing;
because, through this, most of the good Italian violins, and those of
other celebrated makers, have been spoiled.”

“... many good Violinists are unacquainted with the construction and
the various component parts of their instruments....” _Chap. II, p. 4._

_From the Morning Herald._

“The famous Treatise of Otto on the Violin has been ably translated by
Mr. John Bishop, whose book will be welcome to those who are curious in
the history of the instrument, in the biographies of its most renowned
makers, and in its mechanism philosophically considered.”

“The appendix (only found in this edition) contains a valuable article
on the proportions, &c. of the several parts of the violin, illustrated
by elaborate diagrams; and also another upon the bow, which was a
desideratum in the original work—thus completing the necessary circle of
information which every violinist should possess respecting the
mechanism of his instrument—and which will prove an effectual safeguard
against the mischievous practices of so-called restorers and repairers.”

“The study of this book will show any unfair dealing on the part of
dealers in old violins.”—_Harmonicon._

See also _Chap. IX, p. 342_, of “The Violin.”

A LIST

OF

BOOKS OF INSTRUCTION

FOR THE

VIOLIN,

INCLUDING

THE METHODS OF THE MOST CELEBRATED MASTERS.

STANDARD EDITION OF DR. SPOHR’S GREAT WORK,

_With the Author’s own Sanction._

  LOUIS SPOHR’S CELEBRATED VIOLIN SCHOOL, translated by JOHN
  BISHOP, with two portraits of the Author—large music folio, whole
  cloth boards, £1 11s. 6d.

TESTIMONIAL FROM THE AUTHOR.

  “London, June, 1843.

“I have carefully looked over the English edition of my Violin School,
published by Messrs. Cocks and Co. and have no hesitation in
recommending it as a faithful translation of the original work.

  “LOUIS SPOHR.”

The following is the reply to the Inscription Letter of the Publishers,
received by them from the Secretary to the

ROYAL ACADEMY OF MUSIC:

  “Royal Academy of Music, February 13th, 1843.

  “Sir,—I am directed by the Committee of Management of this
  Institution, to state that they have much pleasure in granting
  your wish to publish their names as patronizing your edition of
  SPOHR’S VIOLIN SCHOOL. I am farther instructed to return you
  their best thanks for your donation of a copy of the above Work,
  and which they have felt much pleasure in directing to be placed
  in the Library of the Academy.

  “I am, Sir, your obedient Servant,

  “To Robert Cocks, Esq.”

  “J. GIMSON, Secretary.”

_From the Morning Chronicle._

“This edition is fully equal in value to the original German; or,
indeed, superior to it, when we consider the useful notes added by the
Translator, and the correct and beautiful manner in which the Volume has
been brought out by the Publishers.”

_From the Spectator._

“Any criticism on a work of such standing and repute as SPOHR’S VIOLIN
SCHOOL would now be superfluous, if not impertinent. Its reputation has
long been established throughout Europe; and the testimony of the best
judges has stamped it as the most perfect work of its kind.”

INSTRUCTION BOOKS FOR THE VIOLIN.

  CAMPAGNOLI’S New and Progressive Method for the Violin,
    translated by John Bishop, and dedicated to His late
    Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge—large music
    folio, whole cloth boards                               £1  4 0

  PAGANINI’S Method of Playing the Violin, by Charles Guhr,
    translated by James Clarke                                 12 0

  RODE, BAILLOT, and KREUTZER’S Method of Learning the
    Violin, as adopted by the Conservatoire de Musique,
    in Paris, translated by J. A. Hamilton                     10 6

  Supplement to Rode, Baillot, and Kreutzer’s Method            8 0

  HAMILTON’S Catechism of the Violin, with an Appendix
    by John Bishop, 6th Edition                                 1 0

  PACINI’S Easy Method, with 50 Airs, 13th Edition, revised
    by Hamilton                                                 2 0

  ABBÉ’S (fils) Treatise on Harmonics                           1 6

  GUHR’S Treatise on Single and Double Harmonics                4 0

  PRAEGER’S Elementary and Practical School for the Violin,
    in Three Parts.

  Part 1. Easy Method, with 28 Airs, &c.                        5 0

  Part 2. The Indispensable, containing Scales, &c.             5 0

  Part 3. Studies selected from Beethoven, Haydn, &c.
    &c. &c. fingered                                            5 0

  T. GOODBAN’S Violin Method                                   10 6

  HOWELL’S Instruction Book                                    10 6

  HOWELL’S Elementary Examples                                  6 0

  MULLER’S Twenty Lessons for the acquirement of Time,
    for one or two Violins                                      4 0

  FOR THE VIOLA, OR TENOR VIOLIN.

  INSTRUCTION BOOKS, SCALES, &c.

  BRUNT’S Method for the Tenor, followed by 12 Studies          4 0

  PRAEGER’S (H. A.) Scales and Chords in all the Keys,
    with their proper fingering, at one view                    1 0

  PRAEGER’S (H. A.) 12 easy Preludes in different keys,
    fingered     for the use of those who wish to play
    with feeling and expression                                 2 0

  PRAEGER’S (H. A.) 18 Easy Studies, fingered                   3 0

THE VIOLA FOR SOLO PERFORMERS.—“Why is the VIOLA so little cultivated
among amateurs in comparison with the rest of the Violin Family? It
would seem, in my judgment, to be especially adapted for them, as it
does not embrace that wide range and execution that the violin does, but
depends on the sweetness and volume of tone. For the performance of
_Notturnos_, perhaps no instrument is more suitable, as any one, who has
heard Mr. Hill on it, will confess.”—_Correspondent of Cocks’s Musical
Miscellany, July, 1851._

FOR THE VIOLONCELLO.

   BAILLOT, LEVASSEUR, CATEL, and BAUDIOT’s Method for
     the Violoncello, adopted by the Conservatoire, translated
     by A. Merrick—fingered by T. Binfield                     12 0

   Supplement to ditto                                          6 0

   HUS-DESFORGES’ Instruction Book for the Violoncello         10 6

   HAMILTON’S Catechism for the Violoncello                     1 0

   DUPORT’S celebrated Essay for the Violoncello, translated
     by John Bishop (_in the press_).

FOR THE CONTRE-BASSO, OR DOUBLE BASS.

   MINE and FROLICH’S Method for the Double Bass (edited
   by Hamilton)                                                 8 0

STANDARD CLASSICAL WORKS

FOR VIOLIN, &c.

CORELLI’S TRIOS AND SOLOS.

  CORELLI’S Forty-eight Trios for Two Violins and Violoncello,
    Four Books, each                                            8 0

    Or, complete in Three Volumes                           £1  4 0

  CORELLI’S 12 celebrated Solos, newly arranged by Czerny      10 6

  CORELLI’S 12 Solos, printed from the plates (copper)
    originally belonging to Walsh                              10 6

  DE BÉRIOT’S Six Airs, varied for the Violin,
    with accompaniment for the Pianoforte:

  Nos. 1 to 5, each                                             4 0

  8th Air                                                       5 0

  VIOTTI’S DUETTS AND TRIOS.

  VIOTTI’S complete Collection of Duetts, Op. 1. 12 Duetts,
  2 books, each                                                 8 0

  VIOTTI’S Six Duetts, Op. 5, 2 books, each                     8 0

  VIOTTI’S Six Duetts, Op. 6, 2 books, each                     8 0

  VIOTTI’S Three Duetts, Op. 18                                 8 0

  VIOTTI’S Three Duetts, Op. 21                                 8 0

  VIOTTI’S Three Duetts, Homage à l’Amitié                      8 0

  VIOTTI’S complete Collection of Trios,

    First Set, Six Trios, Op. 2                                10 6

    Second Set, Op. 16                                          8 0

    Third Set, Op. 17                                           8 0

    Fourth Set, Op. 20                                          8 0

  VIOTTI’S Three Airs, with Variations (Violin & Piano), each   2 0

  BEETHOVEN’S Four Grand Trios, edited by Scipion Rousselot:

    Nos. 1, 2, 3 (Op. 4)                                       12 0

    No. 4 (Op. 3)                                               8 0

  (_The only complete Edition_).

  MOZART’S Original Trio for Violin, Tenor, and Bass            6 0

  TRIOS by PLEYEL, HUMMEL, &c. for Violin, Tenor, and
    Violoncello, or Pianoforte.

QUARTETTS.

TWO VIOLINS, TENOR, AND VIOLONCELLO.

  BEETHOVEN’S 17 Quartetts for Two Violins, Tenor, and
    Violoncello, edited by M. Scipion Rousselot, as performed
    at the Beethoven Quartett Society in London,
    with a Portrait and Memoir of the Composer. The
    entire set, engraved in the best style, on extra large
    plates, and printed on fine stout paper                 £6  6 0

    _Separately._

    Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, composed for, and dedicated to,
      Prince Lichnowsky (Op. 18), each                          9 0

    Nos. 7, 8, 9, dedicated to Prince Rasumowsky
      (Op. 58), each                                           10 6

    Nos. 10, 11, 12, and 14 (Ops. 74, 95, 97, and 133), each   10 6

    Nos. 13, 15, 16, 17 (Ops. 130, 131, 132, and 135), each    12 0

  HAYDN’S 83 Quartetts for Two Violins, Tenor, and Violoncello;
    a new edition, revised and corrected, with
    Portrait of the Author, and a Catalogue Thématique,
    4 vols. bound in cloth                                  £6  6 0

  The Quartetts may be had singly, at 2s. 6d. 3s. and 4s. each;
    or in Operas, or Sets of Six, at from 12s. to 16s. each set.

  _N.B.—A Catalogue Thématique may be had, on application,
    gratis and postage free._

  MOZART’S Ten Quartetts, 4 vols. boards                    £2  2 0

    First Set of Three                                         15 0

    Second Set of Three                                        15 0

    Third Set of Three, dedicated to the King of Prussia       15 0

    Single Quartett                                             6 O

    The Ten Quartetts in Score, 8vo. 10 Nos.                £1 10 0

  These unique and splendid Editions are

  THE ONLY UNIFORM EDITIONS EXTANT

  of the Quartetts of Haydn, Mozart, & Beethoven.

  QUINTETTS.

  TWO VIOLINS, TWO TENORS, AND VIOLONCELLO.

  BEETHOVEN’S Quintetts, complete edition, as performed by
    the Beethoven Society; edited by Scipion Rousselot—engraved
    in the same style as the Quartetts, on large sized plates,
    and printed on extra paper:

    Grand Quintett—No. 1, in E flat (Op. 4)                    10 6

                   No. 2, in C (Op. 29)                        10 6

                   No. 3, in E flat (Op. 20)                   10 6

                   No. 4, in B flat (Op. 20)                   10 6

   (The only complete English Edition,)

  BEETHOVEN’S Grand Quintett, in E flat, for Piano, Violin,
    Tenor, Flute, and Violoncello                               6 0

  DUSSEK’S Quintett for Piano, Violin, Tenor, Violoncello,
    and Double Bass (Op. 41)                                    7 0

  HAYDN’S Twelve Grand Symphonies, arranged by Dr. Hague
    for Flute, two Violins, Tenor, and Violoncello, 4 books,
    each                                                       15 0

    Pianoforte parts, each                                      4 0

  MOZART’S Six Quintetts for two Violins, two Tenors,
     and Violoncellos—6 books, each                             8 6

     Or, the Six complete in 5 volumes, boards              £2  2 0

     The first Five Quintetts, in score                     £1  2 6

     The only correct editions of these Quintetts extant..

  A. ROMBERG’S Quintetts for Violin, Flute, two Tenors,
    and Violoncello

    Six Quintetts, each                                         5 0

    Three Quintetts, each                                       6 0

—————

SEPTETTS, &c.

All the Symphonies and Overtures of Auber, Beethoven, Haydn, Mozart,
  Romberg, Rossini, &c.

  (Catalogues gratis and postage free.)

—————

  SYMHONIES AND OVERTURES FOR A FULL ORCHESTRA.

  BEETHOVEN’S Grand Symphony. No. 1, in C (Op. 21)             12 0

  HAYDN’S Grand Symphony, The Surprise                          7 6

  HAYDN’S Grand Military Symphony                               7 6

  MOZART’S Grand Symphonies, each                              10 6

  A. ROMBERG’S Grand Symphony in E flat (Op. 6)                10 6

  *** Duplicate Violin, Tenor, and Bass Parts, each             1 0

  OVERTURES FOR A FULL ORCHESTRA

  BEETHOVEN’S Overture to Prometheus (Op. 48)                   7 0

  CHERUBINI’S Overtures to Anacreon and Lodoiska, each          6 0

  MOZART’S Overtures—viz. Le nozze di Figaro, Il Flauto Magico,
    Il Don Giovanni, Idomeneo, La Clemanza di Tito,
    Cosi fan Tutti, La Vilanella Rapita, each                   7 0

  B. ROMBERG’S Overture in D (Op. 11)                           7 6

  C. M. VON WEBER’S Overture to Der Freyschütz                 10 6

    Duplicate Violin, Tenor, and Bass parts, each               1 6

  —————

  DANCE MUSIC

  All Lanner, Strauss, Labitzky, and Musard’s Dances may be had
    for a Full Orchestra.

  —————

  VIOLIN AND PIANOFORTE

  (with accompaniments.)

  Haydn’s Twelve Grand Symphonies, arranged for the Pianoforte by
    Czerny, with Accompaniments for Violin, &c. Mozart’s Symphonies,
    arranged by Clementi, with similar Accompaniments. Brilliant
    Duetts for Pianoforte and Violin Concertante, by Mozart, Beethoven,
    Rossini, Auber, Mayseder, Weber, Spohr, &c. with a large collection
    of Music for Violin, &c. and Pianoforte.

  —————

  Just Published

  A Catalogue of Standard and New Music for the Violin, Tenor, and
    Violoncello. 11th Edition.

  ☞ This catalogue is not equalled throughout Europe for the number,
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  Applicants may also have, free by post, a List of Violins, Tenors,
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  ALSO

  A Catalogue of the Original Works of Louis van Beethoven, with various
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  CATALOGUES, &c. FREE BY POST.

  GENERAL CATALOGUES of Music for all Instruments, embracing a
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IN COURSE OF PUBLICATION.

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  Several Copies of Handel’s Complete Works, £25 to £42.

  DR. BOYCE’S COLLECTION OF CATHEDRAL MUSIC, with Portrait, and
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  Prince Albert—3 vols. extra music folio, £6 6s.

  A LARGE COLLECTION OF PORTRAITS OF MUSICAL MEN, at various
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_Just Published_,

Vol. I. in Royal 8vo. Price £1 1s. of

(COCKS’S EDITION OF)

THE SCHOOL OF MUSICAL COMPOSITION,

BY DR. ADOLPH MARX.

This Edition, under the supervision of the Author himself (with
additions exclusively for the English translation), is published
simultaneously with the FOURTH GERMAN EDITION, _now in course of issue
at Liepzig_.

VIOLINS, BOWS, &c.

Vuillaume’s Copies of Straduarius, Guarnerius, the Amatis, Magini, &c.
price £14 each instrument.

Brazil Wood Violin, Tenor, and Violoncello Bows, by Vuillaume, at the
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ROBERT COCKS & Co. NEW BURLINGTON STREET, _Music Publishers, by Special
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