composer of operas. In order to accomplish his purpose he must enter a musical school and obtain the instruction which would properly fit him for his chosen profession. The only drawback to this end was lack of funds. Accordingly, with a small scholarship, received from a Bussanto institution (Monte di Pieta), together with the liberal assistance of his benefactor, Barezzi, Verdi was able to carry out his plans, that of going to Milan and entering the Italian Conservatorio di Musica.

On Verdi's first entrance into Milan we find him established in the home of Giuseppe Seletti, a personal friend of Barezzi and a professor at the Gymnase. This comfortable apartment in Via. Santa Maria, No. 19, is situated in the heart of the city. A son of the hospitable professor still occupies the house and takes pride in

preserving the room which was the composer's first home in Milan.

It is an indisputable fact that Verdi, after successfully passing an examination at the Conservatorio, was refused admittance on the ground that he showed no special talent for music! The grim building stands as a forcible reminder of the inability of Verdi's countrymen to recognize the latent genius in this boy who, in spite of their predictions, was destined to fulfill the desire and hope of his country. Whether the refusal was based on the ground of a seeming lack of ability, or upon purely personal motives, has always been a conjecture. Suffice it to say that the rebuff cost Verdi the first real sorrow of his youth, leaving a scar which was not effaced to the day of his death.

Realizing this decision of the Conservatorio faculty to be final, Verdi was advised to choose Signor Vincenzo Lavigna as his instructor, a pupil of the Conservatorio at Naples and a successful composer and director at La Scala Theatre. With the guidance of this sagacious Italian and with music all around him Verdi toiled incessantly until a municipal contract, made previous to his departure to Milan, forced him to return to Bussanto and fill the vacancy of parish organist, caused by the venerable Provesi's death. This event marked another episode in Verdi's life.

Returning to the scenes of his early years, the young man now entered the household of his benefactor, Barezzi, who regarded Verdi as his own. son. It soon became apparent that the merchant's eldest daughter had also become closely attached to her father's protege. Although Verdi mourned the fate which forced him to leave Milan, yet he seems to have exercised an astonishing amount of fortitude respecting the situation. By some unspeakable magic, the composer found perfect consolation in the society of his foster-father's daughter, whose personal charm and musical ability he openly acknowledged. During this period he wooed and wed the beauti

given to the world, November 17, 1839. Following this triumph, Verdi was engaged to produce three other operas,one every eight months,-the first of which, was to be a comedy, and for which the composer was to receive 4000 Austrian lire, or about $700.

Verdi's future now seemed practically assured. Prosperity and fame were evidently close at hand; but all this was soon to be obliterated by a terrible tragedy, which was rapidly approaching. Scarcely had the Italian maestro begun his work when his little daughter died. Then followed the death of his infant son, and before June of the same year the young wife had also passed away, making the third death in Verdi's family in less than three months and leaving him-alone! Prostrated with grief and, at the same time, financially embarrassed, he endeavored to keep his contract with the manager at La Scala and complete the comic opera! This work was given in Milan during September following the composer's bereavement and, needless to state, proved a failure. Overcome with disappointment, Verdi now broke all contracts with Signor Merelli and retired to a quiet apartment near Corsia de' Servi, declaring that his musical career was ended. Then followed weeks of complete dejection, when all former interests were apparently forgotten. But even sorrow like Verdi's could not long suppress the genius of such a man.

One winter's evening, when coming out of the De Cristoforis Gallery, that grand arcade of Milan, Verdi suddenly encountered Signor Merelli. In spite of the snow, then falling in great flakes, the crafty manager urged the maestro to accompany him on his way to La Scala, saying that he wished to chat about a new libretto. When reaching the office, Merelli begged his companion to enter, adding that he would like to show him the latest production from the pen of the Italian poet, Solera. With great reluctance, Verdi hastily glanced over the manuscript, after which he returned it to Signor Merelli.

"It will not harm you," cried the indignant manager; "take it home,read it—and then bring it back to me!"

The following day Verdi returned with the libretto, having decided, after careful consideration, that he could not set the words to music, not even for Merelli. Disappointed and not a little vexed with the composer, the manager demanded:

"What's the matter? Is the poem not beautiful?"

To this Verdi replied:

"Yes, it is very beautiful!"

"Then set it to music," shouted the irate Merelli; and without waiting for a reply, he thrust the libretto into Verdi's coat-pocket, and, seizing the unyielding maestro by the shoulder, pushed him from the room, actually locking the door in his face, thus leaving no chance for a second refusal. In this manner Verdi again took up his life-work and the score of Nabucco, produced in 1842, was the result of Merelli's persistent efforts.

La Scala Theatre, the birthplace of eight Verdi Operas, is known throughout the musical world. Erected in 1778, it is the largest, save one, in Italy. Everything about the place speaks of the gentle, yet masterful hand, which gave to us an Aida, an Otello and a Falstaff. Standing in the auditorium, one can almost hear the chorus from I Lombardi, as it chants the words:

"O signora del tetto natio," that glorious refrain which, when sung in the streets of Milan and Venice, finally resulted in tearing the hated yoke of Austria from this modern Etruria. In the dark shadows of La Scala's walls seem ever lingering the ghosts of an insolent Otello or fair Desdemona, awaiting the return of the great composer whose interpretations brought honor, even to a Shakespeare.

Nowhere but in Italy could such a scene take place as was witnessed on the memorial first night of Otello, when Verdi gave to the musical world that brilliant gem of lyric drama which is yet unsurpassed by any of his

In the first days of Verdi's prosperity he purchased an estate about ten miles from the scenes of his childhood, and when not occupying the Palazzo Doria, at Genoa, spent much of his time at Sant' Agata, his country retreat situated in this solitary, isolated land. But during his active life in Milan, when conducting at La Scala, it was his custom to remain from four to six months yearly at the Grand Hotel de Milan. Under this hospitable roof the composer was

a guest for thirtyfour consecutive years, and here, amid the scenes of his triumphs, he passed from life on January 27, 1901. The building around which hovers so many fond memories of the maestro faces a beautiful avenue, called by the Italians Via. Alessandro Manzoni, in remembrance their patriot, novelist and poet whom the Milanese worshiped and for whom Verdi wrote the Requiem Mass.

of

gems of art give a grandeur to this room which was so long occupied by the man who was not only a composer of operas, but a member of the Italian Senate, honored with the title of Marquis and adored by the civilized world.

The bed-chamber, which opens out of the salon, contains many personal belongings of Verdi. Lying upon the writing desk is a pen, ink-stand and blotter he used to the last. In the blotter may be plainly seen the im

Ascending a short stairway in the Grand Hotel de Milan, you enter a large corner room, known for half a century as the Verdi Salon. The door is carefully locked and every precaution taken lest the precious mementos prove an overpowering temptation to the souvenir collector. Above the door hangs a life-size painting of the composer and you are told that everything remains as it did during his lifetime, save the grand piano, which was removed by the family. Luxurious furniture, soft carpets, silken draperies, large mirrors and

pression of his trembling hand. Playing cards, which he always carried with him, are resting in a golden case. A mahogany cabinet contains wineglasses with the initials "G. V." His favorite dressing gown and many of his undergarments have been preserved; but even an enthusiast feels that is carrying their ardor too far!

In this sunny, cheerful salon Verdi received such men as Carducci, Rossi, Boito, Manzoni and many other noted men of his time. What an inspiration to have listened to the words of wisdom, sagacity and repartee uttered by these men who have moved the world these men who have moved the world with their genius. What hours of uncertainty and doubt Verdi passed in this retreat, and then, what triumph and what victory! Fancy the confusion which reigned,-both from within and without on those unprecedented "first nights" at La Scala!

As you leave the hotel and pass out