grandest symphony on this play." "I did both things," he adds, "but I
never said anything of the sort." It is in "Lelio" that the story of
his love is embodied; and other compositions of his might be mentioned
which were simply the overflow of his passions.

Poor Schubert, who enjoyed little of the fame and less of the fortune
that were due him during his brief life, and who was as unattractive
in personal appearance as Haydn and Beethoven, does not seem to have
cared as much for women as most other composers. Nevertheless he fell
deeply in love with a countess, who, however, was too young to
reciprocate his feelings. But one day she asked him why he never
dedicated any of his compositions to her, whereupon he replied, "Why
should I? Are not all my compositions dedicated to you?" This was as
neat a compliment as Beethoven once made Frau von Arnim--an incident
which also gives us a glimpse of his manner of composing. One evening
at a party Beethoven repeatedly took his note-book from his pocket and
wrote a few lines in it. Subsequently, when he was alone with Frau von
Arnim, he looked over what he had written and sang it; whereupon he
exclaimed: "There, how does that sound? It is yours if you like it; I
made it for you, you inspired me with it; _I saw it written in your
eyes_."

Many similar cases might be cited, showing that although women may
have done little for music from a creative point of view, they are
indirectly responsible for many of the most inspired products of the
great composers. And the moral of the story is that a young musician,
as soon as he has secured a good poetic subject for a song or an
opera, should hasten to fall in love, in order to tune his
heart-strings and devotions to concert pitch. And a patriotic wag
might, perhaps, be allowed to maintain that, as America has more