of the Alps he
heard his own song. "'What is the name of that hymn?' he asked his
guide. 'The Marseillaise,' was the peasant's reply. It was then that
he learned the name of his own work. He was pursued by the enthusiasm
which he had scattered behind him, and escaped death with difficulty.
The weapon recoiled against the hand which had forged it; the
Revolution in its madness no longer recognised its own voice."

De Lisle afterward reentered the army, made the campaign of La Vendee
under Hoche, was wounded, and at length, under the consulate, returned
to private life at Montaigu. Poor and alone, he remained there until
the second Restoration, when, his brother having sold the little family
property, he came to Paris. Here he was unfortunate and would have
starved but for a small pension granted by Louis XVIII., and continued
by Louis Philippe, and for the care of his friends, the poet Beranger
and the sculptor David d'Angers, and especially M. and Madame Voiart.
At the house of the Voiarts in Choisy-le-Roi, Rouget de Lisle died in
1836.

His other works include a volume of "Essais en vers et en prose,"
issued in 1797, "Cinquante Chants Francais" (1825), and "Macbeth," a
lyrical tragedy (1827). He also wrote a song called "Roland at
Roncesvalles," and a "Hymn to the Setting Sun."

Two statues, if no more, have been erected to him in France,--one at
Lous-le-Saulnier, from the hand of Bartholdi, and another at
Choisy-le-Roi.

Pils, to whom we owe the picture of Rouget de Lisle singing his
immortal chant, was a French artist, who died in 1875, at the age of
sixty-two, having gained many medals and a professorship of painting at
the Paris School of Fine Arts. His fame was mostly won by pictures of
the war in the Crimea, notably by his "Battle of the Alma," now in the
gallery at Versailles. The "Rouget de Lisle," painted in 1849, belongs
to the French nation. Pils decorated the ceiling over the grand
staircase in the Paris Opera House.

PAGANINI.

Earth's effective picture of the great violinist in prison is an
instance of the use of that license which we are generally willing to
allow the painter and the poet. Among the many astounding fictions
which were related about Paganini is one which asserts that, during
years spent in confinement on the charge of murdering his wife, he
solaced himself and perfected his art by the constant use of his
beloved instrument, and this story must serve as the artist