le to
catch some part of the ravishing melody which I had just heard, but
all in vain. The piece which I composed according to my scattered
recollection is, it is true, the best of my works. I have called it
the 'Sonata del Diavolo,' but it is so far inferior to the one I heard
in my dream, that I should have dashed my Violin into a thousand
pieces, and given up music for ever, had it been possible to deprive
myself of the enjoyments which I derive from it."

[Illustration: The Devil Playing for Tartini.]

In the "Reminiscences of Michael Kelly" we are told that in the year
1779 Kelly was at Florence, and that he was present at a concert given
at the residence of Lord Cowper, where, he says, he had "the
gratification of hearing a sonata on the Violin played by the great
Nardini; though very far advanced in years, he played divinely. Lord
Cowper requested him to play the popular sonata, composed by his
master, Tartini, called the 'Devil's Sonata.' Mr. Jackson, an English
gentleman present, asked Nardini whether the anecdote relative to this
piece of music was true. Nardini answered that 'he had frequently
heard Tartini relate the circumstance,' and at once gave an account of
the composition, in accordance with that furnished by M. de Lalande."

DR. JOHNSON AND THE VIOLIN.

"Dr. Johnson was observed by a musical friend of his to be extremely
inattentive at a concert, whilst a celebrated solo-player was running
up the divisions and sub-divisions of notes upon his Violin. His
friend, to induce him to take greater notice of what was going on,
told him how extremely difficult it was. 'Difficult do you call it,
sir?' replied the Doctor; 'I wish it were _impossible_.'"--_Seward's_
"_Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson_."

"In the evening our gentleman farmer and two others entertained
themselves and the company with a great number of tunes on the Fiddle.
Johnson desired to have 'Let ambition fire thy mind' played over
again, and appeared to give a patient attention to it; though he owned
to me that he was very insensible to the power of music. I told him
that it affected me to such a degree, as often to agitate my nerves
painfully, producing in my mind alternate sensations of pathetic
dejection, so that I was ready to shed tears; and of daring
resolution, so that I was inclined to rush into the thickest part of
the battle. 'Sir,' said he, 'I should never hear it if it made me such
a fool.'"--_Boswell's_ "_Life of Johnson_."

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