The charm of Parisian life at that period was that in certain ' salons,' on fixed evenings in the week, most of these ' mighty ones ' were to be met. Such a 'salon' was that of Armand Bertinmade delightful as much by the charm of his wife as by his own intellectual power. It was there that I often met M. [Jean-Auguste-Dominique] Ingres, and had the honour of playing some of Mozart's violin sonatas with him. Great artist as he was, with an immense reputation, he thought less of his painting than of his violin playing, which, to say the least of it, was vile. He generally was so moved by any Andante we played together, that he shed copious tears, and he drew them also from the eyes of his listeners, but they were not tears of delight. His immense superiority as an artist made this little weakness very interesting.