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TO CORRESPONDENTS.

It is with regret that we are obliged to defer, till our December issue, the very able letter from the pen of a Southron, on Sis very, addressed to Hugh S. Legare, Esq. of South Carolina, in which is maintained the natural origin, the universality, the morality, and necessity of this institution, sanctioned by the Deity, approved by the legislators and sages of antiquity, and saly denounced by the philosophists of the last, and the fanatics of the present century.

We regret being again obliged to lay over, till our next number, the very masterly and excellent address on the Genius of the Federative System of the United States, by Professor Beverley Tucker, of William & Mary College, read before the Young Men's Society of Lynchburg, Va., Aug. 26, 1638.

The conclusion of Lucile" may certainly be calculated on in the December No. "Francis Arming” shall be contioned is the same number, if the manuscript reaches us in time.

A Native of Goochland," on the 'Benefits of Knowledge on Morals,' shall also appear in December. So shall the Review o Bulwer's "Falkland," which has been so long neglected. It is a sensible paper, and the writer a good-natured man, else is would have 'cut our acquaintance' twelve months ago.

"New View of the Tides" shall, if it be possible, also appear in our December No.

TO DELINQUENT SUBSCRIBERS.

It is truly mortifying to the Proprietor of the Messenger, to be obliged to remind his subscribers again and again that he mumis in need of the balances due to him. The cost at which the Messenger has been established, and is still sustained, would be sanling, if mentioned-and, possibly, would not be credited by many. The price of the publication is $5 per year, payable in ad vance. Notwithstanding the terms must have been known to every one who subscribed, still there are many who have failed is comply with them. Indeed, there are some who owe for the work from its very commencement-others who are in arreur fr three years and a greater number still who owe for the $d and 4th volumes. The balances dus amount to between 3000 and $4000. No bounty is asked: all that is needful is, that what is actually DUE, by the terms of subscription, should be poid In future, the Messenger will be forwarded to no one who does not accompany the order with the cash. Bills current at par in any State in the Union, will be received in payment.

AUGUST NO. OF THE MESSENGER, FOR 1838-WANTED.

The Publisher of the MESSENGER will pay the subscription price for 20 copies of the above No., if handed to him in as good order as when sent out of the office. If the covers are soiled, they will not answer the desired purpose.

He will also give 85 per volume for two copies of the first volume of the Messenger: they are wanted in numbers, each of which must be in perfect order-free from injury, with clean covers. The volumes called for, are required to be bound up with the covers on them.

BLACKWOOD'S Edinburgh MAGAZINE.

Volumes I, II, and IV, (being for the years 1816, 1817, and 1819,) of the above work, were loaned out some years back, by Mr. MAXWELL TROKES, to some of his friends, either in Richmond or Manchester, who have neglected to return them to him. The object of this card is, to request those who may have them in possession to leave them at the office of the "Literary Messenger.'

ERRATA.

The following errors occurred in the article entitled "Odds and Ends," in the October number:
In 2d page, 1st column, 21st line from the top, for, " meo perienlo," read "meo periculo.”
In 3d page, 2d column, 7th line from the bottom, insert "not only" between "render" and "fur."
In 5th page, 2d column, 25th line, for "remembrances," read "remembrancers."

In 5th page, 1st column, 28th line, for "old fashion," read "old fashioned."

In 8th page, 2d column, 9th line from the top, for "magards," read "mazzards.”

New Terms for Remainder of the Fourth Volume only.

1. In consequence of repeated applications for the | MESSENGER for a period less than the entire year, the Publisher has consented to alter the conditions for the present year only, so far as to receive new subscribers beginning with the July No. Thus the six numbers can be procured for $2 50. After the close of this (the 4th) volume, no subscription will be received for less than one year, and must be paid in advance. Single copies of the MESSENGER will not be sold for less than $2 50

each.

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before the first number of a volume has been published, it will be taken as a continuance for another year.

4. New subscribers, wishing to commence with the FIFTH volume, (1st January,) will please forward their names as early as possible, that we may estimate and furnish the number required over our present issue. Any one enclosing a $20 current bill, at one time, with the names of FIVE NEW subscribers, shall receive FIVE copis of the MESSENGER for one year.

5. The mutual obligations of the publisher and subscriber, for the year, are fully incurred as soon as the first number of the volume is issued: and after that time, no discontinuance of a subscription will be permitted. Nor will any subscription be discontinued while any thing remains due thereon, unless at the option of the

editor.

Richmond, Sept. 28, 1838.

VOL. IV.

RICHMOND, NOVEMBER, 1838.

T. W. WHITE, Editor and Proprietor.

THE ITALIAN OPERA.*

No. XI.

FIVE DOLLARS PER ANNUM.

resort of the best company of the metropolis, who always made their appearance en grande toilette, which is not the custom in French theatres, except at the first representation of new pieces, and on benefit nights. This promotes the enjoyment and profit of theatrical entertainments not a little, by the absence of restraint, and by obviating the necessity of tedious or expensive preparation. The spectacle presented by the audience of the Italian opera, was always exceedingly striking and attractive. The élite of Parisian society, not to speak of distinguished strangers, was always to be seen assembled there. There was something exceedingly fascinating, nay, intoxicating, in the spectacle of so much distinction, beauty and fashion, heightened by the etherial strains of music,

most distinguished were Rubini, Galli, Tamburini, Garcia and Zuchelli. There were many other secondary One of the greatest enjoyments of a European resi- the first class elsewhere, but whose talents were here performers of great merit who would have ranked in dence, to a person of natural or cultivated taste, is derived from the opportunity which it affords, of hear- eclipsed by superior luminaries. The edifice, approing the best music, by the best performers. Without priated to the opera, (which was burnt to the ground the other day, when the acting manager, Severini, lost pretending to the exquisite ear or exalted passion, of his life,) was of moderate dimensions, constructed professed dilettante, I can truly say that I deemed chiefly with a view to musical effect, and ornamented this one of the greatest of my privileges and plea-with taste and characteristic propriety. It was the sures. It was in Paris, where I resided during the first years of adolescence, that I chiefly enjoyed the gratification of which I speak. The Italian opera there is constantly supplied with the most eminent artists, and was during the greater part of my time, under the direction of the celebrated Maestro Rossini himself. He was not exactly the manager, the impresario as the Italians phrase it; but a sort of general superintendent who directed the choice and the getting up of the performances, which were composed, chiefly, of his own pieces. This was obviously a great and rare advantage. It was like Shakspeare or Moliere, superintending the production of his own immortal works. It may not be a little curious to know, that so far from presenting the refined or intellectual appearance which we would be apt to attribute to him, the great composer is of a rubicund, jolly countenance, and of gross corporeal proportions. His tastes and habits are in accordance, for he has the reputation of being one of the greatest epicures or rather gastronomes of the day. In the quaint language of Charles Lamb, he is a great lover of "the delicious juices of meats and fishes." It diminishes our interest in eminent musicians, to learn that their minds and habits are, generally, but little in harmony with the etherial character of their pursuits. They are certainly with many honorable exceptions, apt to be intemperate, and are rarely intellectual, though I am not disposed to judge them so harshly as Dr. Johnson, who observed, if I am not mistaken, that Dr. Burney was the only musician he ever knew, who was not a fool. The former unfortunate propensity may, perhaps, be explained by the necessary conviviality of their habits, and the latter defect attributed to the absorbing character of their studies. When alone, a musician, instead of thinking, hums an air, or sings with his mind, to employ with some modification a celebrated figure of Milton, who says "the hand sang with the voice."

"Which into souls doth creep, Like to a breeze from heaven."

Some of the most beautiful women, both French and foreign, I ever beheld, frequented the Salle Favart, as it was called, and contributed much to the gratification of the audience. Among these, two Spanish ladies, Andalusians I believe, always attracted much attention. They were "high damas," of stately form and rather massive proportions, with the raven hair, proudly flashing eyes, and soft brunette complexion of their country, and an almost imperceptible down, slightly shading the upper lip, as I have often observed in Spanish women, which adds to the imposing character of their faces. But the "observed of all observers" was a young English lady of rare beauty. She generally made her appearance late, in company with a fine looking married sister, and her entrance was always announced by a murmur of applause from the whole assembly; an involuntary, but respectful homage, to the power of beauty. Fair, with the fresh, yet delicate complexion and slightly expanded form of her country women, she possessed that indescribable refinement or rather purity of air, which imparts something angelical to the whole person. She was always attired with simple elegance, simplex munditis, and wore her hair, which was almost of the hue and transparency of amber, (the flavus of the ancients, the capelli d'oro of the Italians,) parted á brilliant recollections of the Italian Opera. But, in the store from which these strains proceed, there must be a thousand others, la Madonna upon the forehead, on which was placed, in and of every description, lingering behind. Such a memory accordance with the fashion of the day, a gem of antique must be a treasure, that abounds in riches of various sorts. Give fashion, supported by a single strand of those delicate us reminiscences of scenes and persons, of literature and art-Venetian chains, light and exquisite as frostwork. As I the stock cannot be easily exhausted, and the favor he will confer upon the public cannot be too highly appreciated. We ask gazed, enchanted, upon this beautiful creature, how often did I wish for the "art that can immortalize" of a it for ourselves-we ask it for others.-Ed. So. Lit. Messenger.

To return to the Italian opera in Paris, the celebrated female performers in my time, were Pasta, Sontag, Malibran, Pisaroni, and Cinti; of the other sex, the

* We are indebted to a distinguished literary gentleman, now a resident of Washington city, for these truly interesting and

VOL. IV.-85

Titian or a Lawrence-but I have her portrait vividly painted upon my mind, I cannot say my heart, for I did not know her, and worshipped her only as a Chal Idean would a star. She was to me a cynosure.

Among the company which frequented the opera were always to be distinguished the professed amateurs, or dilettanti, as the Italians call them. These persons are invariable attendants, occupying always the same places, from which they could scarcely be missed without a loss of caste or reputation. They are characterized by an air of intense, yet chastened enjoyment, which rarely exhibits itself in boisterous applause. The chariness of their praise renders it the more acceptable to the performers, whose reputation and success depend very much upon the fiat of these gentlemen, who are "nothing if not critical." They are, for the most part, Italians, who, all the world over, are recognized as arbiters in such matters. Byron has a very amusing description of one of these judicial gentlemen, in the following lines from Beppo, the happiest specimen of the seriocomical or Pulci verse in the English language, if we except the Rape of the Lock, which, however, is rather a poem of the mock heroic order.

He was a critic upon operas, too,

And knew all niceties of the sock and buskin;
And no Venetian audience could endure a
Song, scene, or air, when he cried "seccatura."
His "bravo" was decisive, for that sound
Hush'd academia" sigh'd in silent awe;
The fiddlers trembled as he look'd around,

For fear of some false note's detected flaw.
The "prima donna's" tuneful heart would bound,
Dreading the deep damnation of his "bah!"
Soprano, basso, even the contra-alto,
Wish'd him five fathom under the Rialto.

rally the case, for it requires a rare combination of advantages to assume this exalted position, the enthusiasm with which she inspires her admirers, is unbounded. She is the favorite of kings and princes; she has the nobles of the land in her train; she never appears, unless thronged by a crowd of impassioned devotees. Wealth is poured at her feet like water; the most costly presents, from every source, are heaped upon her; jewels without number, "pearls and barbaric gold” are literally showered upon her laurelled head.* Her attendant is a prince; her humblest servant some haughty ambassador. She feeds upon the perfumed breath of applause, and lives and moves and has her being in the "purple light of love." Duels are fought for her; suicides are committed on her account; she has her faction which divides the state, with the zeal and bitterness of Whig and Tory, Democrat and Federalist. Beware, in a mixed company how you disparage her merits, or exalt her rival: you may receive a cartel upon the spot, and the dawning light of the morrow shine through your body. Such a life must indeed be a fascinating one, to a proud and beautiful woman, but it has its drawbacks and disadvantages like the humblest condition. It is difficult to maintain a position of such giddy height, and the necessity of sooner or later descending from the pedestal, and retreating again among the undistinguished multitude, must be humiliating, not only to submit to, but even to think of. This was the fate of the distinguished Fodor, shortly before the period of which I speak, who was deprived of the powers of her voice, which, not even a residence in the pure and balmy air of Parthenope, could restore.

To return to Pasta, though not precisely handsome, she was a woman of most noble face and figure, formed Distinguished from these again are the enthusiasts; by nature to personate the queenly characters which the passionate admirers, who are very aptly termed were generally allotted to her. She was considered, by musical fanatics, fanatici per la musica. They make up many, the first tragic actress of the age, nor was there by intensity of enjoyment for the less fastidious delicacy much exaggeration in the estimate. There was someof their taste, and are more anxious, or capable, of feeling thing high and majestical in her air, and it might be a great deal, than of judging with extreme nicety. Their said of her, as of Venus, by Virgil “incessu patui! Deď”— habit is to go into ecstasies at every touching note or her gait bespoke the goddess. Her voice, which, if I brilliant passage, and to exhibit the varying, impas-recollect right, was what is called a mezzo soprano, that sioned effects, attributed, by Dryden, to the divine is, one embracing the intermediate portion of the feTimotheus. Their delight seems to be absolutely con- male scale, was of great volume, force and flexibility, vulsive, and their sensibility to music the true hysterica though in its lower notes a little husky (velata) which passio. One elderly gentleman of this class, used to very defect, however, she was skilful to turn to dra amuse me, particularly. His appearance was distin-matic effect. Never shall I forget her personation of guished by nothing but a singularly long, flexible nose, the queen in Rossini's noble opera of Semiramide, the which seemed to be the receptacle of a vast quantity of finest, in my humble opinion, of his serious works, snuff. This Slaukenbergius redevivus of most unroman- Pride, ambition, love, remorse, despair, were depicted, tic aspect, regularly accompanied the prima donna with as if felt, in turn, with a fervor and force, to which muthe tap of his hand upon the box, increasing constantly sic seemed to add tenfold expression and power. So in vehemence as she proceeded, until he lost all control highly was she esteemed by her admirers, that they of himself, and would throw his body backward and for- gave her the title of la diva, the divine, which became ward and laterally, like a person with St. Vitus' dance; the customary prefix to her name. This recalls to my and then at length, absolutely overcome by the violence mind, the profane enthusiasm of the admirers of a great of his sensations, would fall back, and explode in a storm singer, who were in the habit of exclaiming "one God, of brava bravissimas, gradually dying away in faint mur- one Farinelli !" In the sublime opera of Mosé in Egitto, wurs of palpitating emotion, like one tickled into a fit. I once had the rare good fortune to hear Pasta, in comWhen I arrived in Paris the celebrated Pasta was the reigning prima donna. But first, let me tell what a prima donna is. A prima donna, then, is the high priestess of music; a sort of profane St. Cecilia, who is absolutely deified and worshipped by the devotees to the "concord of sweet sounds." If she be handsome, which is gene

I think it was Sontag, who, before her marriage, exposed to sale the various presents she had received during her short, but brilliant career. The quantity of jewels, watches, rings, chains, handkerchiefs, and ermined cloaks, and boxes of costliest pernecklaces, &c. &c. ; of cashmeres, and boas, and embroidered fumes, and packages of gloves without number, &c. &c. was incredible.

pany with Cinti, Rubini, Galli, Zuchelli and other | philosophy, that virtue was a vice in an actress; as it artists of distinction, a combination of talent which made an impression not easy to be effaced.

Cinti, whom I have just named, was a beautiful Italian, of rather diminutive height, yet slightly massive proportions, whose clear, melodious and graceful soprano was always listened to with delight. In the French opera of Le Rossignol, in which she "trilled her thick warbled notes" in emulation of the nightingale, her performance rose to the highest grade of art.

rendered her liable to be married by some man of rank or opulence, to whose private gratification the pleasures of nations were thus sacrificed. "C'est le plus affreux des monopoles," "it is the most detestable of monopolies," he exclaimed, citing to me at the same time, the instance of the singer Naldi, who married the Count de Sparre, and that of the beautiful dancer, Mercandotti, the Taglioni of her day, who became the wife of the rich Ball Hughes, or Hughes Ball, I forget which, more generally known as Golden Ball; not to mention other examples. It was my good fortune to hear Sontag, several times in company with Malibran, whose organ was perhaps, not so extraordinary, but, who excelled her distinguished rival, in passion, expression and dramatic talent. She made her débût in America, with great applause, and fleshed her maiden sword, if I may be allowed the figure, upon the boards of New York. Here she was induced to contract a marriage with an old French merchant, who proved a bankrupt, a few days after the completion of this ill-starred and illassorted union. Availing herself of some informality in the procedure, she succeeded in getting the marriage annulled by the French tribunals, when she bestowed her hand freely, upon de Beriot the violinist, who was so much censured, by the English public, though perhaps unjustly, for his alleged insensibility after her melancholy death. Her first appearance in Paris, though indicating great talent, was not decidedly successful. She had the good sense to retire for a season, and improve her wonderful faculties by thorough training, the consequence of which was, that at her reappearance, she at once captivated all ears and hearts, and placed herself in the front rank of performers. She was indeed a genius in the truest sense of the word. All the powers and effects of her voice seemed to emanate from the soul within. Every thing which she did, appeared to come from inspiration; like the Pytho

I shall never cease to remember, the first appearance, in Paris, of the inimitable Sontag, whose early retirement from the stage, to quote with slight modification Johnson's remark upon Garrick, eclipsed the gaiety of the musical world. It was the day before I set out upon a tour to Italy, and I made no small effort to be present, upon the eventful occasion, the "dramatic solemnity," as the French phrase it. She came, preceded, indeed, by a brilliant reputation, but which had not yet undergone the severe test of a Parisian audience, composed, as it is, of distinguished connoisseurs, from all parts of Europe. The opera chosen for her débût, was la Cenerentola, in which, as is well known, the heroine makes her first appearance in a rustic dress, to which and to domestic drudgery, she has been condemned by her proud, unfeeling sisters. The first Lones which streamed from her lips, clear, brilliant and dashing, electrified the house, and at once insured a success, which went on increasing, until she quitted the scene of her uninterrupted triumphs. Her voice cannot easily be defined, or even described. It was one of unrivalled power and compass; clear, full and sweet; of rare flexibility and wonderful precision. Her staccato notes were particularly striking and came sparkling out, with the clearness and brilliancy of the diamond. The management of her voice was admirable. She would run up and down the chromatic scale with wonderful rapidity and distinctness; dashing in quick transition between the most distant notes; jumping wholeness, she seemed, agitated, rapt, possessed. When octaves at a leap, yet lighting upon the most remote points, with an agility and accuracy which seemed to be the effect of magic. Her execution of the variations of Rode, in the piano scene of the Barber, was a rare tour de force, a perfect legerdemain of the voice. She was, withal, a lovely woman, with the simplicity, yet not the coarseness, perhaps erroneously attributed to the fair of Germany; of sweet manners, modest deportment and perfect propriety of life. These attractive qualities, proved a general misfortune, for they won her the hand of the young Count Rossi, Piedmontese minister, I believe, at the court of Berlin, which she is said to adorn by her talents, beauty and virtue. This marriage, which was for a long time kept secret, at one time threw a cloud upon her character, as she was compelled to retire for some months from the scene, for a reason which nothing but matrimony can justify. The scandal, however, was at length happily cleared up, by the avowal of the honorable connection. I never fail to smile, when I recollect a conversation, which I had with a Frenchman, who sat next to me, at her reappearance after this event, and before the éclaircissement. He applauded her with peculiar vehemence, as he told me, for that very cause, because it would secure her services to the public, as long as the duration of her delightful talent. He maintained with true French

kindled by the enthusiasm of her nature or the passions which she represented, she would often produce effects as surprising to herself as to others, and which seemed ever new and inexhaustible. She seemed to give herself up, se laisser aller, to the illusion of the moment, and really, feel all and more than she represented. She had all the qualities of soul and person to make a great actress. She was literally consumed by enthusiasm, and the harsh treatment of her father, together with the events of her early life, had made her deeply familiar with tragic emotions. Her ambi. tion, too, was so great, that she would sometimes actually faint upon the scene, from the earnestness of her efforts and the intensity of her feelings. Her face was faultlessly classical, with a chiselled definiteness of outline, and her figure chaste and graceful as those sometimes seen upon an antique vase. Every year added to the talent and reputation of this unsurpassed queen of song, until she perished at length, amidst the smoke and steam of Beotian Manchester, in the full blaze of her fame, a victim to the euthusiasm of her temperament and her devotion to the sublime art of which she was so illustrious a votary. "Whom the gods love die young." Melancholy consolation! May flowers of softest hue and sweetest fragrance spring from the dust of her who was the pride and delight of

nations! Fit emblem and mourner, may the nightingale warble sadly among the branches which shade a tomb, so often moistened with "melodious tears." Alas, poor Malibran!

I must not omit to mention Pisaroni, the most celebrated contralto of her day. Her voice, which was full, strong, and solemn, might not be unaptly called a female bass, and she generally appeared in male characters, many of which were written expressly for her. She was as remarkable for ugliness as talent. Her face, which was broad, coarse and swart, and distorted by the most horrible grimaces when singing, was in keeping with her low squat figure-whose attitudes, to make use of an inelegant comparison, reminded one of those of a cow. There could not be greater evidence of her talent than the high gratification which she uniformly afforded, notwithstanding such repulsive disadvantages. She had much intelligence--combined with sensibility, which qualities were exhibited with the greatest effect in the fine character of Arsace, in the opera of Semiramide, to which I have already alluded, and in which I several times heard her sing with Pasta. The unfeminine character of her low, rich, sonorous voice, no doubt contributed not a little, to her success. I cannot forbear to relate an anecdote regarding her, which I had, but the other day, from the person who is the principal subject of it. An American gentleman who fills with distinguished ability an honorable station in his native state, was travelling a few years since, from Bologna to Venice. Upon entering the coach, at the former place, he observed among the passengers, a lady, whose singular ugliness made a very disagreeable impression upon him. The purity of her accent and elegance of her conversation combined with her engaging manners, soon however reconciled him to her appearance, and they were not long together ere she became quite a favorite with him. To while away the tedium of the route, my friend, among other expedients, proposed singing, to which the lady, after some hesitation consented, archly, however, making it a condition that he should take the first turn. Mutual pressing and bantering ensued, and the worthy Virginian, who probably did not know b from a bull's foot, in music, (as the schoolboys say,) was upon the point of favoring the company with a specimen of transatlantic vocalization, when fortunately for himself and the musical reputation of our country, the coach reached the bank of the Po, where it was detained a few moments by the preparations for passing the ferry. Here the accidental sight of her passport, revealed to the astonished Virginian, that it was the famous Pisaroni, whom he was about to favor with a song by way of encouragement! Upon re-entering the coach, he expressed to her his gratification at the good fortune which had thrown him into the company of so celebrated a person, good-humoredly upbraiding her, at the same time, for the ridiculous position in which she had nearly placed him. She acknowledged his compliments with becoming politeness, observing that she preferred maintaining her incognito in travelling, as it saved her from much embarrassment, and the prejudices of those who had no tolerance for her vocation.

A little incident of harmless scandal may not be out of place here. Emulous of the success of Sontag, a countrywoman, Mademoiselle Heinefetter, came to

Paris, having eloped from the court of the Grand Duke of Hesse Cassel, to whose chapel she had been attached. She was a remarkably fine, luxuriant looking person, which circumstance, though she possessed considerable professional cleverness, gave her for a short time, a success, to which perhaps the order of her talent did not entitle her. But what excited the public strongly in her favor, was the circumstance, that the Grand Duke caused his resident in Paris to insert a publication in the papers, complaining in no measured terms of the treachery of her escapade, and it was even hint ed that a formal demand for her, was to be made to the government. The French, who immediately suspected, that the regrets of his Highness proceeded from a cause more tender than her voice, (whether excited by retrospect or anticipation, it was hard to say,) made themselves very merry at the expense of the petty German prince, and swore stoutly that he should not have her back without her consent. "C'e n'esi pas là une affaire du ressort de la diplomatic.” “This is not a diplomatic matter," they exclaimed; "his Serene Highness is very ridiculous in endeavoring to captivate a lady by such means," What became of her, I do not know. Not having met with success equal to her expectation, I think it probable that she finally listened to the solicitations of the Duke, and returned to delight the stately court of Hesse Cassel and its susceptible master.

Of the gentlemen I will not speak particularly. Tamburini, whose name is a very appropriate one, is the first bass of his age, if Lablache whom I have not heard, be excepted, and Rubini without comparison, the best tenor.

It was indeed a privilege, a rich banquet for the soul, to hear the graceful melody of Cimarosa, the touching notes of Paisiello, the unearthly strains of Mozart, and the rich, various and brilliant music of Rossini, executed by such accomplished artists. Often when exhausted by excitement, or vexed by the turmoil and cares of life, have I soothed my ruffled feelings, and recruited my jaded spirits, by a resort to this highest and most intellectual of the pleasures of the sense, if music can be so called. Of all my enjoyments abroad, (I speak of mere enjoyments,) that which I best remember, and most regret, is the one I have just described.

Before I close, though not strictly in accordance with my subject, I must say a few words about the celebrated Paganini, who has attracted so much attention in the last few years. I had the pleasure of hearing him before he left Italy, and can truly say, he is the most wonderful person I ever met with. I cannot mistrust the impression he produced upon me, because it was made before I had heard of his reputation or even his name. During a short residence in Florence, with boyish curiosity, I managed to obtain admission to the morning rehearsals at the opera. On one of these occasions, Paganini who, as I said before, was entirely unknown to me, presided at the repetition of a concert, which he was to give in the evening. I think I was the sole auditor, besides the performers, vocal and instrumental. The instant he touched the violin, I felt the effect of his wonderful talent. I have heard the most celebrated violinists in Europe, but he is beyond all comparison with them. In his hands the instrument becomes something else and more. The manner in

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