any
artist except Paga-nini to possess in so high a degree this power of
subjecting, elevating, and leading the public. It is an instantaneous
variety of wildness, tenderness, boldness, and airy grace; the
instrument glows under the hand of its master.... It is most easy to
speak of his outward appearance. People have often tried to picture
this by comparing Liszt's head to Schiller's or Napoleon's; and the
comparison so far holds good, in that extraordinary men possess certain
traits in common, such as an expression of energy and strength of will
in the eyes and mouth. He has some resemblance to the portraits of
Napoleon as a young general, pale, thin, with a remarkable profile,
the whole significance of his appearance culminating in his head. While
listening to Liszt's playing, I have often almost imagined myself as
listening to one I heard long before. But this art is scarcely to be
described. It is not this or that style of piano-forte playing; it is
rather the outward expression of a daring character, to whom Fate has
given as instruments of victory and command, not the dangerous weapon of
war, but the peaceful ones of art. No matter how many and great artists
we possess or have seen pass before us of recent years, though some of
them equal him in single points, all must yield to him in energy and
boldness. People have been very fond of placing Thalberg in the lists
beside him, and then drawing comparisons. But it is only necessary to
look at both heads to come to a conclusion. I remember the remark of
a Viennese designer who said, not inaptly, that his countryman's head
resembled that of a handsome countess with a man's nose, while of Liszt
he observed that he might sit to every painter for a Grecian god. There
is a similar difference in their art. Chopin stands nearer to Liszt as a
player, for at least he loses nothing beside him in fairy-like grace and
tenderness; next to him Paganini, and, among women, Mme. Malibran; from
these Liszt himself says he has learned the most.... Liszt's most genial
performance was yet to come, Weber's 'Concert-stuck,' which he played
at the second performance. Virtuoso and public seemed to be in the
freshest mood possible on that evening, and the enthusiasm during and
after his playing almost exceeded anything hitherto known here. Although
Liszt grasped the piece from the begin-ing with such force and grandeur
that an attack on the battle-field seemed to be in question, yet he
carrie