intelligence. His conversation sparkled with wit. His manners were distinguished, and he had a love of all the arts; he owned some magnificent canvases by Veronese. His character was esteemed no less than his talents; he had a numerous family and lived a quiet, respectable life. As a composer he was one of the last representatives of the old Venetian tradition; one of those brilliant and impulsive geniuses in whom imagination, natural talents and scholarship are allied with a fascinating brilliance. A true Italian, full of the classic spirit, he defined good music, in his conversation with Burney, as "beauty, limpidity and good modulation." "Extremely busy in Venice, where he combined the functions of senior choirmaster of St. Mark's and the Incurabili and organist in aristocratic houses with that of a composer of operas, he neglected none of his duties and his conservatoire was a model of good behaviour." "The orchestra," says Burney, "was subjected to the strictest discipline. None of the performers appeared eager to shine; all remained in that sort of subordination which a servant is required to observe in respect of his master." The artists gave evidence of great technical skill; but their taste was always pure and Galuppi's art was to be detected in the least cadences of his pupils. He trained them in all styles of music, sacred or profane; and the concerts which he directed lent themselves to the most varied vocal and instrumental combinations. It was not unusual, in Venice, to employ, in a church, two orchestras, two organs and two choirs, one echoing the other; and Burney heard, in St Mark's, under Galuppi's direction, a mass with six orchestras: two large orchestras in the galleries of the two
