conviction that the mechanism of the art was never carried to the same extent--that he was never equalled in surmounting difficulties--and never was such infinite variety displayed in brilliant passages. The double notes for instance, always the test of great Violinists, as respects true intonation and precision--particularly when the left hand descends to its natural position--form a salient feature in the rapid passages of his compositions. The intervals are ever varying--sometimes in thirds, sometimes in sixths, eighths, and tenths--passing with rapidity from one kind of interval to another--jumping incredible distances--always in double notes--with unerring certainty and perfect intonation. His hand was a geometrical compass which divided the finger board with mathematical precision--his fingers falling exactly where the intonation of the intervals of the double notes was to be found. I do not speak of the varieties of bowing, by which he rendered these difficulties more complicated, I merely look at the double-note passages alone,--I therefore say, that these passages, which were trifles to Paganini, will be impracticable to any other violinist whomsoever he may be, if he would execute them with the same rapidity and with the perfect intonation of the author. As a study, it is a new world for the perseverance of young artists, the results of which will be the acquisition of certainty, which only a small number of performers possess, and the enlargement of the great resources of the instrument. It may be asked why new difficulties are introduced into art; and it may be remarked, with reason, that the aim of music is not to surprise with marvellous feats, but to delight the feelings. This principle I perfectly coincide with; yet I would observe, on the one hand, that certain artists will never be prevented from endeavouring to overcome difficulties, however apparently insurmountable, nor the public from applauding the happy result of their efforts: on the other hand, that the study of difficulties conduces to certainty in what is more simple. If any violinist can play, with perfect intonation, and in the prescribed time, the passages of Paganini’s concertos, he will necessarily attain imperturbable certainty in ordinary music. Is it imperative, I may ask, that these new and varied forms of passages in Violin concertos are to be excluded? Admirable in sentiment, as avowedly the concertos of Viotti are, their weakness consists in the monotony of the rapid passages--and the same may be said of nearly all other known concertos. Art is evidently limited in this species of composition, to things which cannot be considered as the last essay of the artist’s skill--more may be boldly attempted, and that by varied means. Let the happy darings of Paganini be studied, and it will be found that something is gained. [Illustration] FOOTNOTES