“In 1793, a union took place of all which France possessed that was most illustrious in the line of composers, singers, and instrumentalists. The _Conservatoire_ of France, that monument of our musical glory, was raised on the foundation of the old _Ecole de Chant_. All the scattered documents, the varying and sometimes contradictory theories, the principles professed by each master, were brought together, examined, revised;—and then was formed a universal code of music, a system of instruction clear in its elements, methodical as well as rapid in its progression, and certain in its results. * * * * * * * * Then, and only then, were heard in France the sublime productions of Haydn and Mozart, which came forth with all the charms of novelty, though our predecessors had been essaying them for twenty years before.” It may be here incidentally mentioned, that, in 1802, there sprang up so violent a dissention among the professors at the above valuable Institution, as to excite some fears about the continuation of its existence. Subjoined is an epigram that was born of that occasion:— “J’admire leurs talents, et même leur génie, Mais, au fait, ils ont un grand tort; C’est de s’intituler professeurs d’harmonie, Et de n’être jamais d’accord.” Or, as we might phrase it in our own tongue:— The force, the skill, for which they’re fam’d, I praise;—yet one great fault I see: Of _harmony_ Professors nam’d, How comes it that they _can’t agree?_ Let us now proceed to consider the principal French violinists in their order—commencing with Lully, who, though not a Frenchman, but rather (as Burney styles him) a Frenchified Tuscan, belonged entirely to France, both by his education, and the results of it. It has been already observed that Baltazarini, the Italian (who became, _Gallicè_, Monsieur de Beaujoyeux, and who flourished about eighty years earlier than Lully), was the first who introduced the violin to Court favour and fashion in France; where, however, till the time of Lully, it appears to have had no higher province than that which it enjoyed in association with the dance and the ballet—a condition which may, perhaps, be termed “frivolous and vexatious,” but which must be allowed to have coincided pretty exactly with the national taste, at the time.