that Mehul's lasting reputation
as a composer rests outside of his own nation. The construction of
the opera of "Joseph" is characterized by admirable symmetry of form,
dramatic power, and majesty of the choral and concerted passages,
while the sustained beauty of the orchestration is such as to challenge
comparison with the greatest works of his contemporaries. Such at
least is the verdict of Fetis, who was by no means inclined to be
over-indulgent in criticising Mehul. The fault in this opera, as in all
of Mehul's works, appears to have been a lack of bright and graceful
melody, though in the modern tendencies of music this defect is rapidly
being elevated into a virtue.

The last eight years of Mehul's life were depressed by melancholy and
suffering, proceeding from pulmonary disease. He resigned his place in
the Conservatory, and retired to a pleasant little estate near Paris,
where he devoted himself to raising flowers, and found some solace in
the society of his musical friends and former pupils, who were assiduous
in their attentions. Finally becoming dangerously ill, he went to the
island of Hyeres to find a more genial climate. But here he pined for
Paris and the old companionships, and suffered more perhaps by fretting
for the intellectual cheer of his old life than he gained by balmy air
and sunshine. He writes to one of his friends after a short stay at
Hyeres: "I have broken up all my habits; I am deprived of all my old
friends; I am alone at the end of the world, surrounded by people whose
language I scarcely understand; and all this sacrifice to obtain a
little more sun. The air which best agrees with me is that which I
breathe among you." He returned to Paris for a few weeks only, to
breathe his last on October 18, 1817, aged fifty-four.

Mehul was a high-minded and benevolent man, wrapped up in his art,
and singularly childlike in the practical affairs of life. Abhorring
intrigue, he was above all petty jealousies, and even sacrificed the
situation of chapel-master under Napoleon, because he believed it should
have been given to the greatest of his rivals, Cherubini. When he
died Paris recognized his goodness as a man as well as greatness as a
musician by a touching and spontaneous expression of grief, and funeral
honors were given him throughout Europe. In 1822 his statue was crowned
on the stage of the Grand Opera, at a performance of his "Valentine de
Rohan." Notwithstanding his early death, he comp