been a parlous time for the master of that wonderful workshop whence
proceeded the world's masterpieces, though we may almost fancy the
absorbed master, like Archimedes when the Romans took Syracuse, so
intent on his labor that he hardly heard the din and roar of battle,
till some rude soldier disturbed the serene atmosphere of the room
littered with shavings and strewn with the tools of a peaceful craft.

Polledro, not many years ago first violin at the Chapel Royal of Turin,
who died at a very advanced age, declared that his master had known
Stradiuarius, and that he was fond of talking about him. He was, he
said, tall and thin, with a bald head fringed with silvery hair, covered
with a cap of white wool in the winter and of cotton in the summer. He
wore over his clothes an apron of white leather when he worked, and, as
he was always working, his costume never varied. He had acquired what
was regarded as wealth in those days, for the people of Cremona were
accustomed to say "As rich as Stradiuarius." The house he occupied is
still standing in the Piazza Roma, and is probably the principal place
of interest in the old city to the tourists who drift thitherward.
The simple-minded Cremonese have scarcely a conception to-day of the
veneration with which their ancient townsman is regarded by the musical
connoisseurs of the world. It was with the greatest difficulty that they
were persuaded a few years ago, by the efforts of Italian and French
musicians, to name one street Stradiuarius, and another Amati. Nicholas
Amati, the greatest maker of his family, was the instructor of Antonius
Stradiuarius, and during the early period of the latter artist the
instruments could hardly be distinguished from those of Amati. But, in
after-years, he struck out boldly in an original line of his own, and
made violins which, without losing the exquisite sweetness of the Amati
instruments, possessed far more robustness and volume of tone, reaching,
indeed, a combination of excellences which have placed his name high