the scene of the Laocoon, the finale of the last act of the Les Troyens a Troie, the last scene with Aeneas in Les Troyens a Carthage.[64] The empty pomposities of Spontini mingle with the loftiest conceptions.  One might say that his genius became a stranger to him:  it was the mechanical work of an unconscious force, like “stalactites in a dripping grotto.”  He had no impetus.  It was only a matter of time before the roof of the grotto would give way.  One is struck with the mournful despair with which he works; it is his last will and testament that he is making.  And when he has finished it, he will have finished everything.  His work is ended; if he lived another hundred years he would not have the heart to add anything more to it.  The only thing that remains—­and it is what he is about to do—­is to wrap himself in silence and die.

[Footnote 63:  Memoires, I, 307.]

[Footnote 64:  About this time he wrote to Liszt regarding L’Enfance du Christ:  “I think I have hit upon something good in Herod’s scena and air with the soothsayers; it is full of character, and will, I hope, please you.  There are, perhaps, more graceful and pleasing things, but with the exception of the Bethlehem duet, I do not think they have the same quality of originality” (17 December, 1854).]

Oh, mournful destiny!  There are great men who have outlived their genius; but with Berlioz genius outlived desire.  His genius was still there; one feels it in the sublime pages of the third act of Les Troyens a Carthage.  But Berlioz had ceased to believe in his power; he had lost faith in everything.  His genius was dying for want of nourishment; it was a flame above an empty tomb.  At the same hour of his old age the soul of Wagner sustained its glorious flight; and, having conquered everything, it achieved a supreme victory in renouncing everything for its faith.  And the divine songs of Parsifal resounded as in a splendid temple, and replied to the cries of the suffering Amfortas by the blessed words:  “Selig in Glauben!  Selig in Liebe!”

II

Berlioz’s work did not spread itself evenly over his life; it was accomplished in a few years.  It was not like the course of a great river, as with Wagner and Beethoven; it was a burst of genius, whose flames lit up the whole sky for a little while, and then died gradually down.[65] Let me try to tell you about this wonderful blaze.

Some of Berlioz’s musical qualities are so striking that it is unnecessary to dwell upon them here.  His instrumental colouring, so intoxicating and exciting,[66] his extraordinary discoveries concerning timbre, his inventions of new nuances (as in the famous combining of flutes and trombones in the Hostias et preces of the Requiem, and the curious use of the harmonics of violins and harps), and his huge and nebulous orchestra—­all this lends itself to the most subtle expression of thought.[67]