The evening was glorious. Had you only been there! Yet you will see him
in Boston. Do not fail to write me how he impresses you--that is,
particularly. I cannot misapprehend his power so much as not to feel that
it will seem to you very grand. Observe his manner towards the orchestra,
how Olympian, how supreme, yet with all the gentle grace and tenderness of
power! Good-night. May you ever hear sweet music!


VI

N.Y., _Friday, Dec. 15, 1843._

Truly the musical art culminates in our zenith this winter. It gives me
other thoughts than of music only, unfolds to me something more of art,
and I am charmed constantly to see how calmly we receive the great
artists, after the noise of their entry, as the world quietly accepts the
light of stars and swings unastonished on its wonderful way. Ole Bull and
the rest are the scouts we have sent on before us, and they return to tell
us of the Wonderful Land, and bring mementos and captives from the rich
Eldorado of our hopes. That country to which nature points, of which all
art is the flaming beacon, and which the weary voyager home-returning from
fruitless search tells us is in ourselves--not the less far away for that.

Ole Bull's quiet, rapt manner is the full remembrance of that land which
he has seen, and which he unfolds to us--is always the character and
expression of the deepest insight. Just look at our bill for the week
which ends to-night: Monday, Vieuxtemps; Tuesday, Artot and Damoreau;
Wednesday, Ole Bull, Miss Sperty (the new pianist), and Madame Sphor Zahn;
Thursday, Castellan, Antoquin Brough and Sphor Zahn in the "Stabat Mater,"
followed by the "Battle of Waterloo Symphony," by Beethoven; Friday,