hopes on it, and wrought long and patiently. That he was not in his best
vein, and like many other men of genius was not always able to estimate
justly his own work, is undeniable; for Spontini, contrary to the
opinion of his contemporaries and of posterity, regarded this as his
best opera. His acceptance of the Prussian King's offer to become
musical director at Berlin was the result of his chagrin. Here he
remained for twenty years. "Olympic" succeeded better at Berlin, though
the boisterousness of the music seems to have called out some sharp
strictures even among the Berlinese, whose penchant for noisy operatic
effects was then as now a butt for the satire of the musical wits.
Apropos of the long run of "Olympic" at Berlin, an amusing anecdote
is told on the authority of Castel-Blaze. A wealthy amateur had become
deaf, and suffered much from his deprivation of the enjoyment of his
favorite art. After trying many physicians, he was treated in a novel
fashion by his latest doctor. "Come with me to the opera this evening,"
wrote down the doctor. "What's the use? I can't hear a note," was the
impatient rejoinder. "Never mind," said the other; "come, and you will
see something at all events." So the twain repaired to the theatre to
hear Spontini's "Olympie." All went well till one of the overwhelming
finales, which happened to be played that evening more _fortissimo_
than usual. The patient turned around beaming with delight, exclaiming,
"Doctor, I can hear." As there was no reply, the happy patient again
said, "Doctor, I tell you, you have cured me." A blank stare alone met
him, and he found that the doctor was as deaf as a post, having fallen
a victim to his own prescription. The German wits had a similar joke
afterward at Halévy's expense. The "Punch" of Vienna said that Halévy
made the brass play so loudly that the French horn was actually blown
quite straight.

Among the works produced at Berlin were "Nurmahal," in 1825; "Alcidor,"