Shouts of "bravo" and loud applause greet this splendid effort, and she nods and smiles with a pleased and natural expression. Still, she is not satisfied. The band are not sufficiently delicate and light in the treatment of the last chord or two, and she bids them try it again. Three times they go over it, before her exacting and lofty standard of perfection is reached.

Then comes the last movement. Vivacious, animated, and merry, it seems to suit her happy hearted nature, and she fairly revels in its brilliant melodies. Difficulties vanish like mist before the sun. It becomes a delight to dash through the sparkling passages. Clear, clean cut, vivid and sharp, like cut glass, the music stands out in bold characters. Not a note slighted or blurred. No obscurity or doubt about the most intricate passage. Curious little effects of staccato mingled with the most linked together legato. Bold flashes through chain lightning scales. Chords pouring forth in torrents, and then airy scraps of melody, as if the theme had broken up into shining bits, glistening drops, and sparkles of song.

An artist soul blooms before us. Her face is rapt, and almost severe. In a moment it is over, and her features break into a pleasant, natural smile. Amid the applause she returns to the floor and mingles with the people. No affectation, no looking for praise; nothing but sweetness and friendliness. No common-place woman, with brush or needle in hand, could be more simple and winsome, no genius could be more self-forgetting.

We may now properly close the chapter, and bring this story of an artist life up to the present time by a brief sketch of a series of classical concerts given by Madam Urso in the Spring of 1874, in Boston. They were remarkable concerts; both in the character of the music given, and in the crowded and appreciative audiences that attended them. As an expression of Madam Urso's present ability as an artist, we offer the opinion of the Boston Daily Advertiser, our best local critical paper, and, for the present, bring this story to its logical end. May it be many years before it becomes necessary to add anything more to it, except to record her continued success as an artist, and happiness as a good and true woman.

The Advertiser's criticism upon the first concert of the series we present in full for the reason that it expresses the critic's opinion of Madam Urso's general character as a musical artiste, directress, and manager, as well as of her rank and position as a violinist:

"The Horticultural Hall was entirely filled last evening, and Madam Camilla Urso was welcomed back to Boston with an enthusiasm evidently as unaffected as it was hearty. The programme of the concert was singularly choice, but it was noticeable especially for the contrast which it presented to the bills of most of our virtuosi: in three of its numbers only did Madam Urso take part, and those three were a trio for violin, piano, and violoncello, a sonata for violin and piano, and a string quartette. Disappointment at not hearing the principal musician in a solo performance may have marred the pleasure of some of the audience; and at the other concerts of the series it is very likely that some provision may be made for the gratification of this natural desire. But the entire arrangement of last night seemed to us significant—delightfully significant of that noble, generous, self-forgetting spirit which has always distinguished this remarkable performer, and which is not the least of her titles to the grand name of artiste. Here seems to be as little as possible of vain show of self; nothing at all of that jealous littleness which tolerates no companions either as composers or interpreters; the maximum of appreciation and reverence for the great authors, and of devotion to the best and worthiest in music. In the concert of last evening Madam Urso carried the higher principle so far that, as has been said, her own name appeared alone neither as author nor performer.

The three chief numbers of this fine programme were a trio in C-minor, op. 102, by Raff; a sonata in F-major, No. 9, by Mozart; and Schubert's posthumous quartette in D-minor. The Raff trio was new to Boston. It is a long and elaborate work, the absolute merit of which is not to be pronounced upon after a single hearing. That it is startlingly brilliant and striking in at least two of its numbers is plain at once, however; and there can be no denying or doubting its great vigor and originality. The scherzo has remarkable ingenuity in its harmonic forms and instrumental combinations; and the andante, amazing in its melodic variety and richness, and reflecting, apparently, many moods of the composer's mind, yet produces a unity of impression which proves the presence of a strong and self-poised genius. The Mozart sonata for violin and piano is exceedingly interesting in all its three movements, light and airy in its general character,—except in the andante, which is touched with pensiveness,—and not striking very far down in its suggestions, but full of fresh beauty and consummate in its symmetrical grace. In the happiest contrast with the sonata was the wonderful D-minor quartette of Schubert. No better illustration of the marked divergence between the modes of expression natural to two master composers could have been chosen than these. The invariable law of Mozart's genius—in spite of, or perhaps, in aid of its broad inclusiveness—is condensation or conciseness; of Schubert's, it is expansion and diffusiveness. But where the genius is so vital and inspiring as that which shines in every line of the D-minor quartette, the amplitude never degenerates into tediousness. There may be profusion in the host's providing, but no surfeit in the guest's appetite.

In considering the quality of the performance one is tempted at first to the natural remark that Madam Urso's power cannot be so plainly shown in concerted as in solo music. But in the very utterance, we find ourselves hesitating and more than doubtful. For purely mechanical effects and for all the immense variety of mere instrumental and personal display the solo, of course, offers unequaled opportunities. But, after all, of how little real value and beauty are these pyrotechnics of the profession; how shallow is the stream of emotion which flows from them, and how barren, dry and brief is the pleasure which accompanies their recollection! If proofs were sought that Madam Camilla Urso retained her skill in all its amazing perfection and her genius in all its vitality and inspiration, they were abundant indeed at the concert of last evening. There was the same grand steadiness and strength; the same absolute faultlessness in purity of tone; the same fine discrimination and delicacy; the same minute clearness and cleanness, so that in the most rapid and difficult delivery nothing was slurred or confused; the same docile yielding to the spirit of the composer and to the demands of her fellow-musicians. And more than this, there was ample room for the exhibition of the expressive and sympathetic power, which was always the first title of Madam Urso—as of every great violinist—to the highest rank in her art. Her violin in these fine concerted pieces spoke with the same "golden mouth" as of old, commanding, inspiring, defying and pleading by turns. And in such music as that of the well-nigh incomparable "Tema con variazioni" of the Schubert quartette, the highest eloquence of the king of instruments is not only permitted but demanded."

Another view of the professional and technical skill of Madam Urso is given by the critic of the Advertiser in the following words:

"We have said that Madam Urso's place as a violinist is in the first rank; it is hardly necessary to add, that among performers of her own sex she is unquestionably the very first in the world. It is, indeed, only within a comparatively few years that the claims of women to superiority as violinists have been treated with anything better than sneers. And the supercilious and intolerant spirit which dictated such treatment had at least a much solider foundation than the narrow conservatism which refused to admit women into the lists with poets, novelists, sculptors, and painters: for power and force are the primal conditions of the highest success as a performer upon the violin, and most women would undoubtedly be weak players as compared with most men. But the genius of art—who, after all, is one and the same, whatever form the art may take—is no respecter of persons; nay, more, he demands for his high tasks those of every clime and rank, and of both sexes. And from each and every one he asks a peculiar service which no other could exactly render. And thus he has assigned to Madam Urso her own functions as an artiste. There is no denying the remarkable power and breadth of her style, which is far in advance of that exhibited by the majority of the best male performers;—her touch is at once as firm as steel and as soft as velvet; her mere manual dexterity is extraordinary; and her intonations are as faultless as the steadiest of hands and the correctest of ears can make them,—witness, especially, her recent wonderful playing of cadenzas at a Harvard Symphony Concert. In all of this Madam Urso may be said to be a man, or the equal and compeer of man. But in the great expressive power to which we have often referred as her chief title to the highest place, the soul of the true and earnest woman finds its own exclusive utterance; and we get a something of tenderness, of sweetness, and of subtlety which is pre-eminently feminine. The world could not afford to lose this, though great performers were twenty times more numerous than they are. The age which has produced a Dickens and a "George Eliot," a Holman Hunt and a Rosa Bonheur, a Story and a Harriet Hosmer, must needs have added to the scroll upon which the titles of Joachim, of Vieuxtemps, and of Ole Bull are inscribed, the name of

CAMILLA URSO."



BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

THE SOPRANO.—A Musical Story.

In paper, .60 In handsome cloth, 1.00

THE TONE MASTERS.—Three Volumes.

MOZART AND MENDELSSOHN. HANDEL AND HAYDN. BACH AND BEETHOVEN.

An illustrated musical series for young people and others. Cloth, price per vol. $1.25

MONEY AND MUSIC.—An Art Story.

In handsome cloth, $1.00

GARDENING FOR MONEY.—How it was done with Fruit, Flowers and Vegetables.

In cloth, $1.50

A SIMPLE FLOWER GARDEN.—A practical guide for every lady.

In paper covers, 25 cts.



Transcriber's Note: The table below lists all corrections applied to the original text.

p. 5: [normalized] into the shady archway -> arch-way p. 26: not very difficult in rythm -> rhythm p. 28: rapid appeggios -> arpeggios p. 28: Repeatedly nterrupted by applause -> interrupted p. 30: The Director Auber, received him -> Director, Auber, received p. 32: Persistance finally carried the day ->Persistence p. 34: compete with grown up lads, -> lads. p. 50: Salvator Urso would play the flute -> Salvatore p. 63: paler and thiner than ever -> thinner p. 65: given her at Manhiem -> Manheim p. 66: 24th Concerto in B Minor for violin by Viotto -> Viotti p. 69: the half smilling mouth -> smiling p. 70: M Urso replied -> M. Urso p. 75: Something had happend -> happened p. 80: the greatest enthuasiasm -> enthusiasm p. 81: flaming advertisements of pecocity -> precocity p. 82: so natural and childlke -> childlike p. 82: so selfposesed and graceful -> selfpossessed p. 83: sit down in dispair -> despair p. 85: They stoped a gentleman -> stopped p. 85: Again and again they stoped -> stopped p. 87: wofully ignorant -> woefully p. 87: incredably short time -> incredibly p. 89: It was a stiring, eventful life -> stirring p. 91: and the povery and trial -> poverty p. 92: L'elisir 'd Amore -> L'elisir d'Amore p. 94: Witches' Dance, by Paginini -> Paganini p. 99: Souvenir des Pryrenees -> Pyrenees p. 99: [normalized] to her in the anteroom -> ante-room p. 103: before a seclet audience -> select p. 103: beseiged the doors -> besieged p. 100: fulfill every engagemet tno the letter -> engagement to p. 114: the orchestra, drilled -> orchestra drilled p. 115: beseiged by editors -> besieged p. 115: The Mechanics' Pavillion -> Pavilion p. 115: a drum more portentious -> portentous p. 119: the Festivale week -> Festival p. 124: the Old and New Philarmonic Societies -> Philharmonic p. 127: an unrupted succession -> uninterrupted

THE END