45

LIFE AND TIMES OF FREDERICK DOUGLASS 419

the 'Ohio,' with masts tapering proportionately aloft and an eastern sun
reflecting her graceful form upon the waters, attracting the view of the mul-
titude upon the shore, it was enough to pride any American heart to think
himself an American; but when I thought that in all probability the first time
that gallant ship would gird on her gorgeous apparel and wake from her sides
her dormant thunders it would be in defence of the African slave-trade, I
could but blush and hang my head to think myself an American."

This fine passage in the speech of Wendell Phillips uttered when I was
new from slavery, was one element in my desire to see Genoa and to look
out upon the sea from the same height upon which he stood. At the time of
hearing it I had no idea that I should ever realize this desire.

Like most Italian cities, Genoa upholds the reputation of its country in
respect of art. The old masters in painting and sculpture, and their name is
legion, are still largely represented in the palaces of the merchant princes of
this city. One of its singular features is the abundance of fresco work seen on
both the inside and the outside of buildings. One feels emphatically the pres-
ence and power of the Roman Catholic Church in the multitude of shrines
seen everywhere and containing pictures of apostles or saints, or the Virgin
Mother and the infant Jesus. But of all the interesting objects collected in the
Museum of Genoa, the one that touched me closest was the violin that had
belonged to, and been played upon by Paganini, the greatest musical genius
of his time. This violin is treasured in a glass case and beyond the reach of
careless fingers. a thing to be seen and not handled. There are some things
and places made sacred by their uses and by the events with which they are
associated, especially those which have in any measure changed the current
of human taste, thought and life, or which have revealed new powers and
triumphs of the human soul. The pen with which Lincoln wrote the
Emancipation Proclamation, the Sword worn by Washington through the
war of the Revolution, though of the same material and form of other pens
and swords have an individual character, and stir in the minds of men pecu-
liar sensations. So this old violin, made after the pattern of others and per-
haps not more perfect in its construction than hundreds seen elsewhere,
detained me longer and interested me more than anything else in the Museum
of Genoa. Emerson says, "It is not the thing said, but the man behind it, that
is important." So it was not this old violin, but the marvellous man behind
it, the man who played on it and played as never man played before, and
thrilled the hearts of thousands by his playing, that made it a precious object
in my eyes. Owing perhaps to my love of music and of the violin in particu-
lar, I would have given more for that old violin of wood, horse hair and