course) with a wreath of laurels. Herz drew the line at the forty pianos. Subsequently he consented to arrange a piece for sixteen pianos, and the result justified the most sanguine hopes of the happy manager, and no doubt gratified Herz-although one of the performers, who was a dummy, and carefully instructed to pass her fingers over the keys as if playing, but on no account to touch a note, continued the most frantic motions during a grand and solemn pause. This extra dumb display, however, passed without notice, and there was no jarring discord amid the general applause.

At times even the equanimity of Herz was severely tested by the ingenious tricks of the manager. One day, walking through the streets of Philadelphia, he noticed a number of Brobdingnagian posters headed with the legend,

'A THOUSAND CANDLES!'

in letters of giant proportions. To his horror he found that they preceded the announcement of his own concert for the next evening. He repaired to Ullman for an explanation; the manager's sole reply was a mysterious but triumphant smile. The mystery was solved in the concert-room, which he found illuminated by a vast profusion of candles instead of the

ordinary lamps. He never played to a more crowded house; certainly never to one more disorderly and inattentive. In competition with music the candles won the palm, the audience being entirely absorbed in ecstatic delight caused by the illumination. More than one of the spectators, who had counted the lights, complained in tones of disappointment that there were eight short of the advertised number!

Another concert consisted of improvisations, the theme being set by the vote of the audience. The competition was lively, and, as the majority were ignorant of the use of music-paper, the melodies were sung or whistled, and then submitted to the audience, whose verdict took the shape of vociferous acclamation or disapproval. The scenes that ensued baffle description, and Herz himself relates the affair in a somewhat shamefaced manner.

Schumann, most amiable and just of critics, who often mentions Herz in his writings as a sort of musical charlatan, could not have been aware of these pitiful American exhibitions, where the climax of absurdity and musical degradation was attained; the news had not penetrated to Leipzig. More pleasing among the American reminiscences are the sympathetic allusions to the condition of the slaves, and his

views in this respect are highly corroborative of those set forth by Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe in her eloquent, picturesque, and pathetic plea on behalf of the unfortunate negro caste.

Herz returned to France, and displayed great activity in the establishment of a new pianoforte factory, which still exists. In 1855 he obtained the first prize, and for a time his pianos were equalled but not excelled by those of Erard, Pleyel, and other celebrated makers. His work as a teacher, composer, and pianist was during the last thirty years of his life subordinated to the management of his factories, though he kept his place at the Conservatoire up to 1874. Herz died on June 5, 1888.

His picture gives the impression of a wellto-do business man rather than the idea of an artist, though his face is marked by pronounced intellectual qualities, and the musical capacity is evident. The impression is heightened by the correct frock-coat, white waistcoat, and tall hat; by the mutton-chop whiskers and shaven upper lip. The long and plentiful hair is brushed straight across the head, disclosing a high forehead and shrewdly twinkling eye. He carefully eschewed the vagaries of that school of artistic poseurs who hope to create an

æsthetic or artistic effect by a parade of flowing locks and distinctive wardrobe eccentricities.

As a composer Herz does not rank high. The number of his compositions was large; but except his Études and Pianoforte Method, which are not without merit, nothing of importance survives with his fame and merit as a virtuoso. Notwithstanding the light thrown upon his practices in the record of his American experiences, he was one of the first pianists of his day; and his splendid execution has been acknowledged even by those who, following higher ideals of musical development, were necessarily antagonistic to his methods and standard.

OHANN

JOH

HUMMEL

1778-1837

NEPOMUK

HUMMEL, the friend and pupil of Mozart, a gifted and brilliant pianist and composer, affords another illustration of the precocity of musical genius, so signally evidenced in the history of the most spiritual, loveliest, and withal most difficult of the arts. Happily, the divinity that shapes the ends of genius makes its possession an abiding and calm joy that raises the fortunate artist above the possibility of becoming the slave and subject of the encounter with mere difficulties; these latter, indeed, are speedily cast under the spiritual feet of the soul-dreamer, and constitute the rungs of the Jacob-ladder upon which his celestial visitants, the tissues of their immortal vesture touched with the fainter glory of the sun and stars, reascend to heaven. Happily so; for the temperament of genius is not necessarily suited for aggression and conquest. To express great ideas, sublime