PIERRE RODE, another of the eminent players formed by Viotti, was born at Bordeaux, in 1774. His musical tendencies were manifested from his infancy; and, after some instructions bestowed on him in compliance with his early bias, he was sent, while yet but thirteen years old, to Paris, which city has always been considered, in modern times, as the centre of the musical art in France, and enjoys indeed something approaching to a monopoly of it[48]. Here he was introduced to Viotti, who made kindly estimate of his capacity, and interested himself much in directing and improving its exercise. His first public appearance was in 1790, before a Parisian audience—one of his master’s concertos being the subject of the display. Shortly after this, he was appointed principal second violin at the Théâtre Feydeau, and obtained further notice by means of his performance of other concertos of Viotti’s, on selected occasions. In 1796, Rode commenced professional travelling, and went through Holland and Hamburgh to Berlin. Returning homewards, he was shipwrecked on the English coast. This accident gave him an opportunity of visiting his great preceptor Viotti (who was as yet receiving English shelter and hospitality),—but it did not enable him to make the impression of his talents felt here; for, after one attempt, in which (probably through the disadvantage of being hardly known to us islanders) he met with slender encouragement, the solemn terrors then prevalent at the Alien Office intervened to arrest his ambitious bow-arm. In those really perilous days, our green-eyed government certainly saw _more_ perils than had either existence or probability. It would seem as if the plague of democracy had been by them considered to infest the very garments of a Frenchman, and the air that surrounded his person. It mattered not in what shape, or with what business, he presented himself; suspicion whispered an _aliàs_ against them all. If he professed to amuse, he was but the more likely to be intent on deceiving. Viewed by the help of this principle, a fiddler became obviously a highly dangerous character. If discord was confessedly mingled with his strains, surely revolution might lurk in his fiddle-case. “Let no such man be trusted;” and, accordingly, Rode was invited to discontinue his sojourn, “_parmi nous autres Anglais_.” His countryman, Mons. Fétis, in recording the particulars of Rode’s career, has fallen into the error of attributing to the English _public_, instead of their political _directors_, his unhonored departure.