him full justice. "I hear on all sides," he says, "that
you have just plucked a nosegay of the sweetest melodious flowers, and
that your oratorio is throughout a masterpiece of _naivete_. I shall
never forgive myself for having been so unjust to a friend."

Berlioz died at the age of sixty-five. His funeral services were held
at the Church of the Trinity, a few days after those of Rossini. The
discourse at the grave was pronounced by Gounod, and many eloquent
things were said of him, among them a quotation of the epitaph of
Marshal Trivulce, "_Hic tandem quiescit qui nunquam quievit_" (Here is
he quiet, at last, who never was quiet before). Soon after his death
appeared his "Memoires," and his bones had hardly got cold when the
performance of his music at the Conservatoire, the Cirque, and the
Chatelet began to be heard with the most hearty enthusiasm.

VI.

Theophile Gautier says that no one will deny to Berlioz a great
character, though, the world being given to controversies, it may be
argued whether or not he was a great genius. The world of to-day has but
one opinion on both these questions. The force of Berlioz's character
was phenomenal. His vitality was so passionate and active that brain
and nerve quivered with it, and made him reach out toward experience at
every facet of his nature. Quietude was torture, rest a sin, for this
daring temperament. His eager and subtile intelligence pierced every
sham, and his imagination knew no bounds to its sweep, oftentimes even
disdaining the bounds of art in its audacity and impatience. This big,
virile nature, thwarted and embittered by opposition, became hardened
into violent self-assertion; this naturally resolute will settled back
into fierce obstinacy; this fine nature, sensitive and sincere, got torn
and ragged with passion under the stress of his unfortunate life. But,
at one breath of true sympathy how quickly the nobility of the man
asserted itself! All his cynicism and hatred melted away, and left only
sweetness, truth, and genial kindness.

When Berlioz entered on his studies, he had reached an age at which
Mozart, Schubert, Mendelssohn, Rossini, and others, had already done
some of the best work of their lives. Yet it took only a few years to
achieve a development that produced such a great work as the "Symphonic
Fantastique," the prototype of modern programme music.

From first to last it was the ambition of Berlioz to widen the domain
of his art. He str