ovement the solitude is
all dispelled. The raindrops fall thick and heavy, and a thunderstorm
bursts. But the fury is soon spent, and the clouds clear away. The
shepherds are astir, and from the mountain-sides come the peculiar
notes of the "Ranz des Vaches" from their pipes. Suddenly all is changed
again.

Trumpets call to arms, and with the mustering battalions the music
marks the quickstep, as the shepherd patriots march to meet the
Austrian chivalry. A brilliant use of the violins and reeds depicts
the exultation of the victors on their return, and closes one of the
grandest sound-paintings in music.

The original cast of "Guillaume Tell" included the great singers then
in Paris, and these were so delighted with the music, that the morning
after the first production they assembled on the terrace before his
house and performed selections from it in his honor.

With this last great effort Rossini, at the age of thirty-seven, may
be said to have retired from the field of music, though his life was
prolonged for forty years. True, he composed the "Stabat Mater" and the
"Messe Solennelle," but neither of these added to the reputation won
in his previous career. The "Stabat Mater," publicly performed for the
first time in 1842, has been recognized, it is true, as a masterpiece;
but its entire lack of devotional solemnity, its brilliant and showy
texture, preclude its giving Rossini any rank as a religious composer.

He spent the forty years of his retirement partly at Bologna, partly at
Passy, near Paris, the city of his adoption. His hospitality welcomed
the brilliant men from all parts of Europe who loved to visit him, and
his relations with other great musicians were of the most kindly and
cordial character. His sunny and genial nature never knew envy, and
he was quick to recognize the merits of schools opposed to his own. He
died, after intense suffering, on November 13, 1868. He had been some
time ill, and four of the greatest physicians in Europe were his almost
constant attendants. The funeral of "The Swan of Pesaro," as he was
called by his compatriots, was attended by an immense concourse, and his
remains rest in Pere-Lachaise.

V.

Moscheles, the celebrated pianist, gives us some charming pictures of
Rossini in his home at Passy, in his diary of 1860. He writes: "Felix
[his son] had been made quite at home in the villa on former occasions.
To me the _parterre salon_, with its rich furniture, was quite n