not "live happily ever afterward." The actress
was forced by an accident to leave the stage permanently. She and her
husband did not agree well, and were continually at odds. Finally she
took to drink, and a separation soon followed. Berlioz married again,
his second wife being the singer, Mlle. Recio. He outlived her, and in
later life was taken care of by her mother.

The symphony, incidentally, was so successful at its first performance
that a strange-looking man rushed to the platform, saluted the composer,
and sent him a more substantial token in the shape of twenty thousand
francs. The stranger proved to be Paganini, but that famous violinist
was such a miser that the story has been doubted. It is said that he
acted in behalf of an unknown benefactor, but his enthusiasm at the
performance seems to disprove this, and the work possesses just the dark
and sinister character that would appeal to Paganini.

Another composition inspired by the same love episode is the "Romeo and
Juliette" Symphony. Berlioz tried to make all his music tell a story,
and he believed in the theory that tones could be made to represent
ideas in a much greater degree than is usually supposed. The result is
shown in many characteristic passages in his works, an excellent example
being the gentle and melancholy theme that typifies Childe Harold in the
symphony of that name. But Berlioz carried his idea to extremes, and
fairly earned the half-reproach of Wagner, who said of him: "He ciphers
with notes." That Berlioz could write with more direct beauty is shown
by his practical joke at the expense of the critics; for he pretended to
unearth an old piece by a certain Pierre Ducre, which they praised
greatly in contrast with his own works, and after they had done their
worst, Berlioz proved that he himself was the mythical Ducre.

Giuseppe Verdi was another great musician who felt the full richness of
domestic happiness, if only for a time. Born in the little hamlet of Le
Roncole in 1813, he proved himself possessed of unusual talent, and
after a time went to Busseto for lessons. There he came to the notice of
M. Barezzi, who became the friend and patron of the young student. The
story of his being refused at the Milan Conservatory, and afterward
amazing the authorities by his speed in composing fugues, is too well
known to need repetition. After his Milan studies, we find him back at
Busseto, in love with Barezzi's daughter Margherita. The fathe