"Since the death of his great master, the weird Paganini, Ole Bull had been left without a rival in Europe. Herwig, Nagel, Wallace, Artot, and De Beriot can only 'play second fiddle' to this king of the violin. His entrance upon the stage is remarkably modest, and after the Parisian graces of Artot seems a little awkward; a tip of his bow brings a crash from the orchestra. He then lays his cheek caressingly on the instrument, which gradually awakes, and wails, and moans, like an infant broken of its slumber. Every tone seems fraught with human passion. At one time he introduces a dialogue, in which a sweet voice complains so sadly that it makes the heart ache with pity, which is answered from another string with imprecations so violent and threatening that one almost trembles with fear. We fancied that a young girl was pleading for the life of her lover, and receiving only curses in reply. At the close of the first piece, the 'Adagio Maestoso,' there was one universal shout of applause, which afforded an infinite relief to a most enthusiastic house that had held its breath for fifteen minutes. Ole Bull came before the curtain and bowed, with his hand upon his heart. There is something different in his performance from that of any other artist, and yet it is difficult to describe the peculiarity of his style, except that he touches all the strings at once, and plays a distinct accompaniment with the fingers of his right hand. But the charm is in the genius of the man and the grandeur of his compositions. He knows how to play upon the silver cord of the heart which binds us to a world of beauty, and vibrates only when touched by a master hand." The sentiments and emotions aroused in the breast of this critic appear to have been those with which Paganini inspired his audience, when he played a duet on two strings, as related in an earlier chapter. Ole Bull was a child of nature, he gave his audience a description of the beauties of nature, and behold! it is interpreted as a story of human passions,--a high tribute to descriptive music. The following criticism seems more in keeping with the ideas known to have been held by the violinist, and almost leads one to imagine that the critic was fortunate enough to obtain an interview with the virtuoso before writing his account: "FEBRUARY, 1844.