in others. Greatness has an affinity and admiration for greatness that will not be silent.
Homage to one that excels us but proves our own right to appreciation. We at once think more of an artist or teacher who speaks enthusiastically and appreciatively of the work of some brother musician. But how often we are told what Mr. A. or Miss B. can not do, and what failures they are; and how seldom do we hear what they can do, and how little are their abilities and their successes mentioned?
There is a lesson for us in the words and actions of two of London's great musicians on the occasion of Paganini's first appearance in England.
When this greatest of fiddlers had ceased his playing, Mori, himself a fine violinist, got up from his seat and solemnly inquired of those in his neighborhood, "Who'll buy my fiddle? Who'll buy a fiddle and bow for eighteen pence?" Even Mori's "Strad" went a begging at that price under the spell of the violin-wizard's playing.
Another great musician was present, John Cramer. His tribute to Paganini's playing was the simple words, "Thank heaven, I am not a violinist!"
Cannot the rank and file of the musical profession learn something in this matter of giving credit where credit is due, from the attitude of those who head the army? Or do we even recognize that our armies have commanding generals?
143.—MENDELSSOHN AT WORK.
Bach used to call composers who could do nothing at writing music without hearing it first on an instrument by a peculiar name. He dubbed them "harpsichord knights." Mendelssohn belonged to a different order of knighthood. A friend once called on him, and finding him engaged in writing music excused himself and offered to call again. But Mendelssohn would not hear of it. He had the gentleman come into his studio, and
