A man of large and powerful physique, he plays with a bold and manly vigour, and yet with exquisite delicacy. He is a master of phrasing and of all beauties of detail, has a wonderfully perfect technique, but that quality which places him at the head of all rivals is his musical feeling, his temperament. He has been compared to Rubinstein and to Paderewski. He inspires his hearers, or, as it was once expressed, very neatly, "he creeps up under your vest." He disarms criticism, and he seems to be more completely part of his violin and his violin of him than has been the case with any other player who has visited these shores for some years. He has given the greatest performance of the celebrated Bach chaconne ever heard in America. He has been declared to be not inferior to Joachim in his performance of this work, though he has not so broad a tone as the latter, nor as Wieniawski. He combines Sarasate's tenderness of tone and showy technique with more manliness and sincerity than Sarasate gives. The student, perhaps, can learn more from Cesar Thomson than from Ysaye, but he will receive from the latter the greater inspiration. Ysaye is noted, too, for sincerity of purpose and seriousness such as few of the virtuosi have possessed. He is free from all traits of charlatanism and trickery. Once, when in California, he was asked for an autograph copy of a few measures of his original cadenza to the Beethoven concerto (an embellishment which all violinists seem obliged to compose), but he declared that he did not like the idea of an original cadenza to Beethoven's work, that it was much better to omit it, as it formed no part of the concerto. "In original cadenzas by virtuosi," he said, "we find too much violin and too little music," for which confession from such an artist the world may be truly grateful. When Ysaye came to America in 1894 he was prepared with a repertoire consisting of ninety-one pieces. Of these, fourteen were concertos, seventeen sonatas, and eleven were compositions of his own. He made a second tour in America in 1898, when he confirmed the opinions already formed as to his wonderful qualities. In March, 1899, he went to Berlin, which city he had not visited for several years, and appeared as soloist of the tenth Nikisch Philharmonic concert, when he played the E major concerto by Bach, and scored an overwhelming success. At the end of the concert he was recalled some fifteen times, and had completely exploded the idea so firmly held in Berlin, that the Belgians cannot play the classics.