humiliated him, and were one of the crosses of his life, as they obliged
him to speak anything but the truth.[22]

[Footnote 22: _Mémoires_, II, 158. The heartaches expressed in this
chapter will be felt by every artist.]

That made a total of three thousand francs, hardly gained on which he
had to keep a wife and child--"_même deux_," as M. Tiersot says. He
attempted a festival at the Opera; the result was three hundred and
sixty francs loss. He organised a festival at the 1844 Exhibition; the
receipts were thirty-two thousand francs, out of which he got eight
hundred francs. He had the _Damnation de Faust_ performed; no one came
to it, and he was ruined. Things went better in Russia; but the manager
who brought him to England became bankrupt. He was haunted by thoughts
of rents and doctors' bills. Towards the end of his life his financial
affairs mended a little, and a year before his death he uttered these
sad words: "I suffer a great deal, but I do not want to die now--I have
enough to live upon."

One of the most tragic episodes of his life is that of the symphony
which he did not write because of his poverty. One wonders why the page
that finishes his _Mémoires_ is not better known, for it touches the
depths of human suffering.

At the time when his wife's health was causing him most anxiety, there
came to him one night an inspiration for a symphony. The first part of
it--an allegro in two-four time in A minor--was ringing in his head. He
got up and began to write, and then he thought,

"If I begin this bit, I shall have to write the whole symphony. It