anini appeared in England, of course there was a prodigious
curiosity to see and hear the great player. All kinds of rumors were
in the public mouth about him, and many of the lower classes really
believed that he had sold himself to the evil one. The capacious area
of the opera-house was densely packed, and the prices of admission were
doubled on the opening night. The enthusiasm awakened by the performance
can best be indicated by quoting from some of the contemporary accounts.
The concert opened with Beethoven's Second Symphony, performed by
the Philharmonic Society, and it was followed by Lablache, who sang
Rossini's "Largo al factotum." "A breathless silence then ensued,"
writes Mr. Gardiner, an amateur of Leicester, who at the peril of his
ribs had been struggling in the crowd for two hours to get admission,
"and every eye watched the action of this extraordinary violinist as he
glided from the side scenes to the front of the stage. An involuntary
cheering burst from every part of the house, many persons rising from
their seats to view the specter during the thunder of this unprecedented
applause, his gaunt and extraordinary appearance being more like that
of a devotee about to suffer martyrdom than one to delight you with
his art. With the tip of his bow he set off the orchestra in a grand
military movement with a force and vivacity as surprising as it was
new. At the termination of this introduction, he commenced with a soft,
streamy note of celestial quality, and with three or four whips of his
bow elicited points of sound that mounted to the third heaven, and as
bright as stars.... Immediately an execution followed which was equally
indescribable. A scream of astonishment and delight burst from the
audience at the novelty of this effect.... etc." This _naive_ account
may serve to show the impression created on the minds of those not
trained to guard their words with moderation.

"Nothing can be more intense in feeling," said a contemporary critic,
"than his conception and delivery of an adagio passage. His tone is,
perhaps, not quite so full and round as that of a De Beriot or Baillot,
for example; it is delicate rather than strong, but this delicacy was
probably never possessed equally by another player." "There is no trick
in his playing," writes another critic; "it is all fair scientific
execution, opening to us a new order of sounds.... All his passages
seem free and unpremeditated, as if conceived on the i