The Violin Part 5

It is certain that the wayward and splenetic character evinced by this brilliant artist, was his bane through the greater part of his life. To enquire how much of that character was indigenous to the man, and how much the evil fruit of the private-patronage system, were, perhaps, to consider too curiously. That he was careless of his own interest, and that he quarrelled with some of his most valuable friends, can excite little surprise, when we note the furor of favoritism, the perversity of petting, that were thrust upon him. We must not expect, in the _morale_ of the musician

"Made drunk with honor, and debauch'd with praise,"

that "sterner stuff," which we look for in the philosopher.

As a composer for the instrument on which he shone, Giardini is not ent.i.tled to rank very high. His Solos and Concertos, numerous, pleasing and of neat effect, were not of so marked a character as to ensure any great duration to their popularity; nor did they admit of any severe a.n.a.lysis as to science in their structure. It is from his _playing_ that his high reputation is derived; and he confirmed into triumph, by more than thirty years of brilliant performance, the previously growing favour of the instrument in England, where indeed he may be said to have completely reformed the Violin system. A living testimony to the excellence of his playing, with a few words as to its manner, has been given, not long since, by Parke, the oboist, who heard him in 1776, and states that he displayed a fund of grace and expression-that his tone united sweetness with power-and (an odd addendum) that he made use of strings so large as to give rise to the idea that his fingers must have been blistered by the necessary pressure he gave them.

ANTONIO LOLLI, born at Bergamo, in 1728, attained eminence in his own country, and afterwards (from 1762 to 1773) became Concert-Master to the Duke of Wurtemburg. Subsequently he went to Russia, where he obtained, from the Empress, Catherine II, a signal token of her admiration, in the shape of a violin-bow, made for him by her order, and bearing on it an inscription in her own potential autograph:-"_Archet fait par ordre de Catherine II, pour l'incomparable Lolli_." In 1785, he visited England, whence he proceeded to Spain, and thence to Paris, where he performed at the _Spirituel_ and other Concerts. In 1788, he returned to Italy, where he glorified his own name with the t.i.tle of Concert-Master to the Empress of Russia; and in 1794, he was at Vienna, ascribing himself under the same character to the King of Naples. He died, after a lingering illness, at Naples, in 1802. His excellence in practice was chiefly evinced in quick movements: he was rarely inclined to exhibit in an adagio.[31] An anecdote in proof of his professional a.s.siduity is recorded by Gerber. When he entered on his engagement at Stuttgard, in 1762, he found a superior there, in the person of Nardini. This circ.u.mstance roused all his energies, which speedily took a settled purpose. He requested the Duke to allow him a year's leave of absence, to travel; instead of which, he retired, diligent, but disingenuous, to a secluded village, and applied himself indefatigably to his instrument.

At the end of the accorded absence, he returned from his pretended journey, "clarior e tenebris," and shone forth with such effect, that Nardini gave up the contest, and returned to Italy.

With regard to the compositions of Lolli, it is known that he never wrote more than the theme, and obtained from other hands the ba.s.s, or the parts for the several instruments: yet it is curious to note that he gives difficult pa.s.sages, of considerable compa.s.s, to be executed on the _fourth string_ only. There are extant various sets of his Solos, a Preceptive Treatise on the Violin, &c.

GAETANO PUGNANI, first violinist to the King of Sardinia, was born at Turin, in the year 1728. At a very early age, he began to practise the instrument on which he was destined to excel. His first tutor was Somis, his countryman, already named as one of the most distinguished scholars of Corelli. After displaying his extraordinary abilities at the Sardinian Court, Pugnani went to Paris, and received the highest applause at the _Concert Spirituel_, as an admitted rival of J. Stamitz, Gavinies, and Pagin.

Pugnani afterwards visited many parts of Europe, and remained a considerable time in England. It was here that he composed a great portion of his violin music. In 1770, he returned to Italy; and, at Turin, founded a school for violinists, as Corelli had at Rome, and Tartini at Padua. From this practical academy issued the first performers of the latter part of the eighteenth century; among whom were Viotti, Bruni and Oliveri. Pugnani's style of execution is recorded to have been broad and n.o.ble, and characterized by that commanding sweep of the bow which afterwards formed so grand a feature in the performance of Viotti; the germs of whose high qualities are clearly traceable to his master. It has been remarked, that all the pupils of Pugnani proved excellent leaders. To lead well, was his most distinguis.h.i.+ng excellence; and he possessed the art of transmitting it to others. In the orchestra, says Rangoni, he commanded like a general in the midst of his soldiers.

His bow was the baton of authority, which every performer obeyed with the most scrupulous exact.i.tude. With a single stroke of this bow, he could correct the erroneous, or animate the lethargic. He even indicated to the _actors_ the tone and sentiment in which they ought to deliver, their respective melodies, and brought every thing to that harmony of expression, without which the operatic scene fails of its most powerful charm. His strong and acute mind possessed with the great object to which every leader ought to attend, he promptly and powerfully seized all the grand points, the character, the style and taste of the composition, and impressed it upon the feelings of the performers, both vocal and instrumental.

Pugnani, in addition to the display of brilliant and powerful abilities as a performer, gave, in his compositions, evidence of a free and elegant imagination. His several instrumental pieces, which consist of solos, trios, quartetts, quintetts and overtures, were published variously, in London, Amsterdam and Paris. On the Continent, they are still in some request, but are become very scarce. They display an eloquence of melody, and an animated and nervous manner. The ideas are natural, both in themselves and in their succession; and, however pointed and striking, never desert the style of the _motivo_. The operas of this distinguished master, seven or eight in number, were all highly successful; and there is scarcely a theatre in Italy, at which some of them have not been performed.

Amongst the anecdotes that have been related of Pugnani, are the following. In his early youth, but when already much advanced on the violin, feeling far from satisfied with the degree of excellence he had attained, he resolved to quit Paris for Padua, in order to see Tartini, to consult him on his playing, and to improve himself under his instruction. Desired by that great master to give him a specimen of his performance, he requested of him, beforehand, to express frankly his opinion of his style and manner. Before he had played many bars, Tartini suddenly seized his arm, saying, "Too loud, my good friend; too loud!"

Pugnani began afresh; when, arriving at the same pa.s.sage, his auditor again stopped him short, exclaiming, "Too soft, my good friend; too soft!" He immediately laid down his instrument, and solicited Tartini to admit him among his scholars. His request was granted; and, excellent violinist as he really already was, he began his practice _de novo_, and, under the guidance of his new instructor, soon became one of the first performers of his time. Not long after this, at the house of Madame Denis, Pugnani heard Voltaire recite a poetical composition, in a style that enchanted him; and he, in his turn, at the lady's request, began to perform on his violin; when, vexed at the interruption and ill-breeding of Voltaire's loud conversation,[32] he suddenly stopped, and put his violin into the case, saying, "M. Voltaire fait tres-bien les vers, mais, quant a la musique, il n'y entend pas le diable." Once, in performing a concerto before a numerous company, he became so excited, on arriving at an _ad libitum_ pa.s.sage, and so lost in attention to his playing, that, thinking himself alone, he walked about the room, "turbine raptus ingenii," till he had finished his very beautiful cadence.

Pugnani died at the city of his birth, in 1798. The violinist, Cartier, has written his eulogium in few words, but of strong import:-"He was the master of Viotti."

GIOVANNI MANE GIORNOVICHI (or Giarnovick, or Jarnowick, as he has been variously called) was born at Palermo, in 1745, and had Antonio Lolli for his preceptor. Resorting to Paris for his first public display, he appeared at the _Concert Spirituel_, with indifferent success, but, by perseverance, soon turned the scale of opinion in his favour so effectually, that, during a s.p.a.ce of ten years, the style of Giornovichi was in fas.h.i.+on in the French capital. His sway there was terminated by the superior power of Viotti, and he quitted France about the year 1780, proceeding to Prussia, where, in 1782, he was engaged as first violin in the Royal Chapel of Potsdam. He was, subsequently, for some time in Russia.[33] Between the years 1792 and 1796, he was in high vogue in various parts of England, but lost his popularity through a dispute with an eminent professor, in which the sense of the public went against him.

A residence of some years in Hamburgh, a shorter stay at Berlin, and then a change to St. Petersburgh, brought him to the end of his career.

He died of apoplexy, in 1804.

The eccentricity which marked the character of this artist, is shown in various anecdotes that have been current respecting him. On one occasion, at Lyons, he announced a concert, at six francs a ticket, but failed to collect an audience. Finding the Lyonnese so retentive of their money, he postponed his performance to the following evening, with the temptation of tickets at half the price. A crowded company was the result; but their expectations were suddenly let down by the discovery that "the advertiser" had quitted the town _sans ceremonie_. At another time, being in the music-shop of Bailleux, he accidentally broke a pane of gla.s.s.

"Those who break windows must pay for them," said Bailleux. "Right,"

replied the other; "how much is it?" "Thirty sous." "Well, there's a three-franc piece." "But I have no small change." "Never mind that,"

Giornovichi replied; "we are now quits!" and immediately dashed his cane through a second square-thus taking _double panes_ to make himself disagreeable.

The auth.o.r.ess of the "Memoirs of the Empress Josephine" has furnished an anecdote connected with his sojourn in London. He gave a concert, which was very fully attended. On the commencement of a concerto which he had to perform, the company continued conversing together, while their whispering was intermingled with the clattering of tea-cups and saucers-for it was then customary to serve the company with tea throughout the evening, during the performance as well as in the intervening pauses. Giornovichi turned to the orchestra, and desired the performers to stop. "These people," said he, "know nothing about music.

I will give them something better suited to their taste. Any thing is good enough for _drinkers of warm water_." So saying, he immediately struck up the air, "J'ai du bon tabac." The best of the matter was, he was overwhelmed with applause; the second piece was listened to with great attention, and the circulation of the tea-cups was actually suspended until its conclusion.

"Giornovick," says Michael Kelly, again, in his "Reminiscences," "was a desperate duellist, quarrelled with Shaw, the leader of the Drury Lane orchestra, at an oratorio, and challenged him. I strove all in my power to make peace between them. Giornovick could not speak a word of English[34], and Shaw could not speak a word of French. They both agreed that I should be the mediator between them. I translated what they said to each other, most faithfully; but, unfortunately, Shaw, in reply to one of Giornovick's accusations, said, "Pooh! pooh!"-"Sacre!"

said Giornovick, "what is the meaning of dat 'pooh! pooh?' I will not hear a word until you translate me 'pooh! pooh!'" My good wishes to produce harmony between them, for some time, were frustrated, because I really did not know how to translate 'pooh! pooh!' into French or Italian. I, however, at last succeeded in making them friends; but the whole scene was truly ludicrous."[35]

The mettlesome _vivacity_ of this strange being was further shown in his intercourse with the Chevalier St. George, who was expert at the sword, as well as the _bow_. Giornovichi often disagreed with this formidable master of fence, and, one day, in the heat of a dispute, dealt him a box on the ear. Instead of resenting it, however, by means of his "so potent art," St. George turned round, with laudable self-restraint, to a person who was present, and said, "_J'aime trop son talent pour me battre avec lui!_" ("I am too fond of his talent, to fight him.")

"Jarnowick," says a recent critic, "was a sort of erratic star or meteor, which cannot be brought into the system of the regular planets of the violin. Slightly educated, and shallow as a musician, his native talent, and the facility with which he was able to conquer mechanical difficulties, rendered him so brilliant and powerful a player, that, for a time, he was quite the rage, both in France and England. We have been told, by a gentleman who knew him well," adds this writer, "that he has seen him, with his violin in his hand, walking about his room, and groping about on the strings for ba.s.ses to the melodies he was composing. His concertos are agreeable and brilliant, but dest.i.tute of profundity and grandeur, and are, therefore, totally thrown aside. His performance was graceful and elegant, and his tone was pure. He was remarkably happy in his manner of treating simple and popular airs as _rondos_, returning ever and anon to his theme, after a variety of brilliant excursions, in a way that used to fascinate his hearers. But, both as a composer and a performer, the effect he produced was ephemeral, and has left no trace behind it. He contributed nothing either to the progress of music, or to that of the instrument which he cultivated."

In giving the reverse side of the picture, there appears to be here a little exaggeration of its defects. That so eminent a performer should have contributed _nothing_ to the progress of his instrument, is scarcely to be held probable. The crowds he drew, and the admiration he excited, must surely have been the means of diffusing some increased regard for the instrument of whose single powers he made such brilliant exhibition. To the steady advancement of the art, through the formation of pupils, he might contribute nothing; but he must have added something to its success, by stimulating the public disposition to encourage it. To create admirers, is of less importance than to make proficients; and yet it is an achievement of _some_ value, inasmuch as it promotes the _demand_ for proficients. Even when the public, for personal reasons, withdrew their patronage from Giornovichi, they only transferred, in favor of others, the admiration for violin solo-playing, which he had been one of the agents to instil into them: and thus it is that no performer of great abilities, unless, by introducing a vicious style, he corrupts taste (which has not been charged upon Giornovichi), can be justly said to be dest.i.tute of advantageous influence upon his art.

GIOVANNI BATTISTA VIOTTI, the first violinist of his age, and the enlightened originator of the modern order of violin-playing, was born in 1755, at Fontaneto, a small village in Piedmont. Possessing the happiest dispositions for his art, the progress he made under Pugnani was so rapid, that, at the age of twenty, he was chosen to fill the situation of first violinist to the Royal Chapel of Turin. After about three years' residence there, he proceeded on his travels, having already attained maturity of excellence. From Berlin, he directed his course towards Paris, where he displayed his talents in the _Concert Spirituel_, and speedily obliged Giornovichi, who was then figuring as a star of the first pretensions, to "pale his ineffectual fire." The concertos of Giornovichi, agreeable and brilliant as they were, and supported by his graceful and elegant playing, lost their attraction when brought into rivalry with the beauty and grandeur of Viotti's compositions, aided by the n.o.ble and powerful manner in which he executed them.

Viotti's fame very soon drew on him the notice of the French Court; and he was sent for to Versailles by Marie Antoinette. A new concerto of his own composition, to be performed at a courtly festival, was to afford a treat worthy of Royalty; and every one of the privileged was impatient to hear him. At the appointed hour, a thousand lights illumined the magnificent musical saloon of the Queen; the most distinguished symphonists of the chapel-royal, and of the theatres (ordered for the service of their Majesties) were seated at the desks where the parts of the music were distributed. The Queen, the Princes, the ladies of the royal family, and all the persons belonging to their Court, having arrived, the concert commenced. The performers, in the midst of whom Viotti was distinguished, received from him their impulse, and appeared to be animated by the same spirit. The symphony proceeded with all the fire and all the expression of him who conceived and directed it. At the expiration of the _tutti_, the enthusiasm was at its height; but etiquette forbade applause; the orchestra was silent. In the saloon, it seemed as if every one present was forewarned by this very silence to breathe more softly, in order to hear more perfectly the _solo_ which he was about to commence. The strings, trembling under the lofty and brilliant bow of Viotti, had already sent forth some prelusive sounds, when suddenly a great noise was heard from the next apartment.

_Place a Monseigneur le Comte d'Artois!_ His Highness entered, preceded by servants carrying flambeaux, and accompanied by a numerous train of bustling attendants. The folding-doors were thrown open, and the concert was interrupted. A moment after, the symphony began again; "Silence!

Viotti is going to play." In the meantime, the _Comte d'Artois_ cannot remain quietly seated: he rises, and walks about the room, addressing his discourse loudly to several ladies. Viotti looks round with indignant surprise at the interruption, puts his violin under his arm, takes the music from the stand, and walks off, leaving the concert, her Majesty and his Royal Highness, to the reproaches of all the audience-and leaving his biographers, afterwards, in some doubt whether a just independence of spirit, or a petulance beyond the occasion, should be regarded as the motive to this premature _finale_. Of those who read the anecdote, some may a.s.sociate it with the story of "the _bear_ and fiddle," while others, siding with Viotti, may consider the interruption that provoked him as something parallel to Beranger's ironical summons of

Bas, bas!

Chapeau bas!

Place au Marquis de Carabas!

It has never been satisfactorily discovered what were the reasons which induced Viotti, at an early period of his life, to relinquish all idea of ever performing in public. Some have referred to the incident above narrated, as the cause of this; but they who pretended to be well acquainted with his character, have a.s.serted that he disdained the applause of the mult.i.tude, because it was afforded, almost indiscriminately, to superiority of talent, _and_ to presumptuous mediocrity. It is well known that he rejected the solicitations of people who were termed of the great world, because he would have no other judges than such as were worthy of appreciating him; and that, notwithstanding the pretensions a.s.serted by the great and fas.h.i.+onable persons of his day, on the score of knowing every thing, and of being the supreme arbiters of arts, of artists, and of taste, he observed that it was very rare to find among them men capable of a profound sentiment, or who could discover in others any thing beyond their exterior, and judge of things otherwise than by the same superficial admeasurement.

He, however, yielded again to the eagerness which was evinced for hearing him,-but on two occasions only; of which the one did honour to his heart; and the other, as it serves to acquaint us more intimately with his character, may be here related.

On the fifth story, in a little street in Paris, not far from the _Place de la Revolution_, in the year 1790, lodged a deputy of the Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly, an intimate and trusty friend of Viotti's. The conformity of their opinions, the same love of the arts and of liberty, an equal admiration of the genius and works of Rousseau, had formed this connection between two men who thenceforward became inseparable. It was during the exciting times of enthusiasm and of hope, that the ardent heart of Viotti could not remain indifferent to sentiments which affected all great and generous minds. He shared them with his friend.

This person solicited him strongly to comply with the desire which some of the first personages in the kingdom expressed to hear him-if only for once. Viotti at last consented, but upon one condition-namely, that the concert should be given in the modest and humble retreat of _the fifth floor! La fortune pa.s.se par tout_-'We have,'said he, 'long enough descended to _them_: but the times are changed; they must now mount, in order to raise themselves to _us_.' This project was no sooner thought of, than prepared for execution. Viotti and his friend invited the most celebrated artists of the day to grace this novel festival:-Garat, whom nature had endowed with a splendid voice, and a talent of expression still more admirable-Herman, Steibelt, Rode (the pupil of Viotti). To Puppo was confided the direction of the orchestra; and to Breval, the office of seconding Viotti. Among the great female _artistes_ of the day, were Madame Davrigny, with Mandini, Viganoni, and Morich.e.l.li, a lady as celebrated for her talents as for her charms. On the appointed day, all the friends arrived. The bust of Rousseau, encircled with garlands of flowers, was uncovered, and formed the only ornament of this novel music-saloon. It was there that Princes, notwithstanding the pride of rank; great ladies, despite the vanity of t.i.tles; pretty women, and superannuated fops, clambered for the first time up to the _fifth story_, to hear the almost celestial music of Boccherini, performed by Viotti; and, that nothing might be wanting to complete the triumph of the artist, there was not one of these persons who, after the concert, descended without regret, although it was the lot of some of them to return to sumptuous palaces, and into the midst of etiquette, luxury and splendour.

Among those friends who enjoyed the envied privilege of hearing this great artist in private, was Madame Montgerault, who had a country-house in the valley of Montmorency. Some of his most brilliant ideas had their access in the society of this amiable and gifted woman, in whom he found an enthusiasm for the art equal to his own. She would frequently seat herself at the piano, and begin a Concerto _all'improvviso_; while Viotti, catching in an instant the spirit of the _motivo_, would accompany her extemporaneous effusions, and display all the magic of his skill.

The spirit and honesty of Viotti's character are not ill shewn in the following anecdote. Giuseppe Puppo, who possessed no mean command over the violin, and whose talents were acknowledged by Viotti with the readiest candour, cherished the more than foolish vanity of boasting himself a scholar of the great Tartini, which was known to be an untruth, or, as a French term leniently expresses such deviations, "une inexact.i.tude." On some public occasion, when M. Lahoussaye chanced to be present (who was really a disciple, and an enthusiastic one, of Tartini's), Viotti begged him, as a favor, to give him a specimen of Tartini's manner of playing. "And now," said he, in a tone loud enough to be heard by all the company-"now, Signor Puppo, listen to my friend, Monsieur Lahoussaye, and you will be enabled to form an idea as to how Tartini played!"

Viotti's stay in Paris was abruptly terminated by the bursting of the revolutionary storm in 1790, which drove him to England. His debut in London, at the memorable concerts under the management of Salomon, was as brightly marked as it had been in Paris. The connoisseurs were delighted by his originality and felicitous boldness, tempered as these qualities were by a pure and exalted taste. In the years 1794 and 1795, he had some share in the management of the King's Theatre, and subsequently became leader of the band in that Temple of (occasional) Concord. But, as an ancient author has said, success is a thing of gla.s.s, and, just when it begins to wear its brightest looks, it provokingly meets with a fracture. The quiet and blameless habits of life of the great musician had not sufficed to exempt him from the officious visitations of political suspicion, prompted, it has been supposed, by some whispering tale of slander, from professional envy.

The result was, that poor Viotti suddenly received an order from the Government to leave England immediately. By what subtle ingenuity of apprehension, the proceedings of a violin-player came to be a.s.sociated, at the Home-Office, with the Revolutions of Empires, is as yet a mystery more dark than Delphos. Possibly some future D'Israeli, enquiring for "farther particulars within," may find the means of enlightening the world on this transaction, which certainly does seem, at present, to afford scantier material for the historian than for the epigrammatist.

Thus expelled from the country which had evinced towards others so many generous proofs of hospitality, Viotti pa.s.sed over to Holland, and subsequently fixed himself in the seclusion of a beautiful spot near Hamburgh, named Schonfeld. Here he gave up his mind to the cares of composition, as most likely to displace or diminish those more painful ones which hara.s.sed his sensitive mind, on account of the treatment he had been subjected to. Some of his best works were the product of this retreat; including his celebrated _Six Duetts Concertante_, for two violins; in the preface to which, he touches on the circ.u.mstance that was still affecting him:-"Cet ouvrage est le fruit du loisir que le malheur me procure. Quelques morceaux ont ete dictes par la peine, d'autres par l'espoir;"-and indeed it has been justly remarked that it would be difficult to find any musical work that should seem to have proceeded more directly from a feeling heart, than these exquisite Duetts.

In Hamburgh, he met with his former compet.i.tor, Giornovichi, who, like himself, had been compelled to fly from Paris, the scene of his pristine glories. The latter gave two concerts in this place, attended with the meed of money, as well as that of praise; but the graver-minded Viotti could not be persuaded to appear in public, and imitate his example.

In 1801, Viotti found himself at liberty to return to London. Having determined to relinquish the musical profession, he devoted his resources, like Carbonelli of foregone fame, to the ministry of Bacchus, and a.s.sociated himself with a respectable member of the wine-trade. Disappointment was the issue, however, of this undertaking; and, after years of endeavour, he discovered that his whole fortune was gone. Thus reduced, he prevailed with his own struggling spirit to solicit some appointment from the French Court, and received, from Louis XVIII, the nomination to the management of the Grand Opera. Impelled anew by what Byron calls

"The various joltings of life's hackney coach,"

he proceeded to Paris, and entered upon the office; but neither his age, nor his quiet character, was congenial with the temper of such a scene; and he retired, unsuccessful, but with the grant of a pension. He then came over to end his days in England, loving rather to be an _habitue_ of London, than a citizen of the world; for he had become closely familiarized with the ways and habits of our metropolis, and seemed to have cherished an almost Johnsonian attachment to it. His previous cares and misfortunes, however, had left him little power to continue the race of life, already a protracted one; and, after visibly declining for some time, he died on the 3rd of March, 1824.

Viotti's long retirement from the profession of that art on which his fame was built, had not impaired his love of it, nor his inclination to support it. On the inst.i.tution of the Philharmonic Society, that "decus et tutamen" of instrumental music in this country, he was one of the original members, and, as an honorary performer, not only led the band in turn with Salomon, F. Cramer, Yaniewicz, Spagnoletti and Vaccari, but, like them, interchanged direction and submission, by taking his seat, on the other nights, among the _ripieni_; thus a.s.sisting to form an orchestral phalanx that certainly never was witnessed before, and is little likely to be surpa.s.sed.

Viotti was a person of feelings and sentiments far less artificial than are commonly produced in men whose intercourse with society is fostered by their powers of contributing to its amus.e.m.e.nt. Mixing, of necessity, a great deal with the world, he seems, nevertheless, in a remarkable degree, to have preserved himself from its corrupting influence; and though, as just remarked, he loved London much, there is very interesting evidence to shew that he loved nature more. The purity and rect.i.tude of his taste-its a.s.sociation with the poetic and the true-stand thus recorded by one who had good opportunities of appreciating him:-"Never did a man attach so much value (says M. Eymar) to the simplest gifts of nature; and never did a child enjoy them more pa.s.sionately. A simple violet, discovered in its lowly bed among the gra.s.s, would transport him with the liveliest joy; a pear, a plum, gathered fresh by his own hands, would, for the moment, make him the happiest of mortals. The perfume of the one had always something new to him, and the taste of the other something more delicious than before.

His organs, all delicacy and sensibility, seemed to have preserved, undiminished, their youthful purity. In the country, everything was, to this extraordinary man, an object of fresh interest and enjoyment. The slightest impression seemed communicated to all his senses at once.

Every thing affected his imagination; every thing spoke to his heart, and he yielded himself at once to its emotions."

The natural bias of his character receives further ill.u.s.tration in the sketch which he himself has given, descriptive of his picking up one of the varieties of the popular _Ranz des Vaches_, among the mountains of Switzerland.

"The _Ranz des Vaches_ which I send you," says he to a friend, "is neither that with which our friend Jean Jacques has presented us, nor that of which M. de la Borde speaks, in his work upon Music. I cannot say whether it is known or not; all I know is, that I heard it in Switzerland, and, once heard, I have never forgotten it since.

"I was sauntering alone, towards the decline of day, in one of those sequestered spots where we never feel a desire to open our lips. The weather was mild and serene; the wind (which I detest) was hushed; all was calm-all was unison with my feelings, and tended to lull me into that melancholy mood which, ever since I can remember, I have been accustomed to feel at the hour of twilight.

"My thoughts wandered at random, and my footsteps were equally undirected. My imagination was not occupied with any particular object, and my heart lay open to every impression of pensive delight. I walked forward; I descended the valleys, and traversed the heights. At length, chance conducted me to a certain valley, which, on rousing myself from my waking dream, I discovered to abound with beauties. It reminded me of one of those delicious retreats so beautifully described by Gesner: flowers, verdure, streamlets, all united to form a picture of perfect harmony. There, without being fatigued, I seated myself mechanically on a fragment of rock, and again fell into that kind of profound reverie, which so totally absorbed all my faculties, that I seemed to forget whether I was upon earth.

"While sitting thus, wrapped in this slumber of the soul, sounds broke upon my ear, which were sometimes of a hurried, sometimes of a prolonged and sustained character, and were repeated, in softened tones, by the echoes around. I found they proceeded from a mountain-horn; and their effect was heightened by a plaintive female voice. Struck, as if by enchantment, I started from my lethargy, listened with breathless attention, and learned, or rather engraved upon my memory, the _Ranz des Vaches_ which I send you. In order to understand all its beauties, you ought to be transplanted to the scene in which I heard it, and to feel all the enthusiasm that such a moment inspired."

This susceptibility of pure and simple emotions, which it is delightful to recognize as one of the attributes of real genius, was in Viotti a.s.sociated with a clear and cultivated intellect. He pa.s.sed much of his life in the society of the accomplished, the literary, and the scientific; and his active mind gathered strength and refinement from the intercourse. If the Horatian dictum be right, that

"Principibus placuisse viris haud ultima laus est,"