complained that the sopranos persisted in singing
this aria which was written for a contralto and did not sing what had
been written for the sopranos at all.

On the other hand the diva was irritated as well. She thought the matter
over and realized that it would be serious to have Rossini for an enemy.
So some days later she went to ask his advice. It was well for her that
she took it, for her talent, though brilliant and fascinating, was not
as yet fully formed. Two months after this incident, Patti sang the
arias from _La Gaza Ladra_ and _Semiramide_, with the master as her
accompanist. And she combined with her brilliancy the absolute
correctness which she always showed afterwards.

Much has been written about the premature interruption of Rossini's
career after the appearance of _Guillaume Tell_. It has been compared
with Racine's life after _Phedre_. The failure of _Phedre_ was brutal
and cruel, which was added to by the scandalous success of the _Phedre_
of an unworthy rival. Racine's friends, the Port Royalists, did not
hesitate to make the most of the opportunity. "You've lost your soul,"
they told him. "And now you haven't even success." But later, when he
took up his pen again, he gave us two masterpieces in _Esther_ and
_Athalie_.

Rossini was accustomed to success and it was hard for him to run into a
half-hearted success when he knew he had surpassed himself. This was
doubtless due to the extravagant phraseology of Hippolyte Bis, one of
the librettists. But _Guillaume Tell_ had its admirers from the start.
I heard it spoken of constantly in my childhood. If the work did not
appear on the bills of the Opera, it furnished the amateurs with choice
bits.

In my opinion, if Rossini committed suicide as far as his art was
concerned, he did so because he had nothing more to say. Rossini was a
spoiled child of success and he could not live without it. Such
unexpected hostility put an end to a stream which had flowed so
abundantly for so long.

The success of his _Soirees Musicales_ and his _Stabat_ encouraged him.
But he wrote nothing more except those slight compositions for the piano
and for singing which may be compared to the last vibrations of a sound,
as it dies away.

Later--much later--came _La Messe_ to which undue importance has been
attributed. "_Le Passus_," one critic wrote, "is the cry of a stricken
spirit." La Messe is written with elegance by an assured and expert
hand, but that is all. The