It is particularly to be noted that what the Germans were able to acquire from these composers, they derived from the concerted music for stringed instruments. In fact, it may be said without exaggeration that, while the Germans were well-informed, not only upon organ composition, but upon vocal writing as well, still they possessed no violinists,[77] in the sense that among them there was no one who wrote for that instrument with the clearness or sentiment which it demanded. The Italians brought them something more, if not something essentially different: the interesting and varied movements, the perfect balance between the musical phrases, the elaboration and refinement of design for which they always strove; for it was with them that monody first dawned, and was afterwards developed. It is easy to conceive that with instruments the conditions are varied; although that is not saying that a manner of writing suited to one instrument may not also be fitted to another; in writing for strings the same style recommended itself to the Italians as that which had enriched the school of organ composition. We refer particularly to the sonatas and concertos. [Footnote 77: I am not speaking of virtuosos. We know with what astonishment Corelli, the great Italian violinist, listened to the playing of Nikolaus Strungk of Celle: "I call myself _arcangelo_," said he to the latter, "but you deserve the title of _arcidiavolo_." And we must not forget the old musician, J. Franz Biber, who was born in 1638 and died at Salzburg in 1698, and who exerted a perceptible influence upon the creation of the violin sonata. But what the Germans sought was not, let me repeat, within the domain of that expressive instrument; they could not be content with simple melody, they must have complete harmony. And so we learn that Bruhns (the remarkable organ-pupil of Buxtehude, and an exceptionally talented violinist) would seat himself before the pedal of an organ, violin in hand, and would play in four parts--the bass with his feet, the other parts upon his violin.] While the sonata still lacked that unity resulting from the development and ingenious combination of two themes of necessary co-relationship, which P.E. Bach was to impart to it later, it already possessed three well-defined divisions at least, as is indicated by the variety of the movements: the first one rapid in tempo, assertive; the second slow, full of sentiment; while the third finished gaily, often recalling the rhythms of popular dances. As to the concerto, it was on the whole nothing more than a sonata for one, sometimes for more than one solo instrument, accompanied by the orchestra, whose interludes produced new effects through the contrast between the _soli_ and the _tutti_.