led him to believe that the celebrated violinist
had taken up his residence in London, but, for a long time after his
(Garat's) arrival in the metropolis, all his attempts to find him were
fruitless. At last, one morning he went to a large export house for
wine. It had a spacious courtyard, filled with numbers of large barrels,
among which it was not easy to move toward the office or counting-house.
On entering the latter, the first person who met his gaze was Viotti
himself. Viotti was surrounded by a legion of employees, and so absorbed
in business that he did not notice Garat. At last he raised his head,
and, recognizing his old friend, seized him by the hand, and led him
into an adjoining room, where he gave him a hearty welcome. Garat could
not believe his senses, and stood motionless with surprise.

"I see you are astonished at the metamorphosis," said Viotti; "it is
certainly _drole_--unexpected; but what _could_ you expect? At Paris
I was looked upon as a ruined man, lost to all my friends; it was
necessary to do something to get a living, and here I am, making my
fortune!"

"But," interrupted Garat, "have you taken into consideration all the
drawbacks and annoyances of a profession to which you were not brought
up, and which must be opposed to your tastes?"

"I perceive," continued Viotti, "that you share the error which so many
indulge in. Commercial enterprise is generally considered a most prosaic
undertaking, but it has, nevertheless, its seductions, its prestige, its
poetical side. I assure you no musician, no poet, ever had an existence
more full of interesting and exciting incidents than those which cause
the heart of the merchant to throb. His imagination, stimulated by
success, carries him forward to new conquests; his clients increase, his
fortune augments, the finest dreams of ambition are ever before him."

"But art!" again interrupted his friend; "the art of which you are one
of the finest representatives--you can not have entirely abandoned it?"

"Art will lose nothing," rejoined Viotti, "and you will find that I
can conciliate two things without interfering with either, though you
doubtless consider them irreconcilable. We will continue this subject
another time; at present I must leave you; I have some pressing business
to transact this afternoon. But come and dine with me at six o'clock,
and be sure you do not disappoint me."

Garat, who relates this conversation, tells us that at the appo