perhaps, for our musical literature, Matheson's sword was broken against a metal button on his opponent's coat, and the honor of each was vindicated! Soon after, the two composers were at peace and hearty good friends again. This was a good example of a discord, prepared and resolved.
152.—PAGANINI'S GENEROUS DEED.
In the later years of Paganini's life his avarice grew apace with his fame. He was the wizard of the violin world. People fought for admission to his concerts, and raved over his playing. All the while a golden stream was flowing into his coffers; but with it his passion for wealth, instead of being satisfied by his large income, grew stronger, and at the end was, next to his love for music, his ruling passion.
While his skill made him a millionaire, yet he lived as though stricken with poverty. In order to save some of his precious gold he would limit the amount of his food to an insufficiency.
When sick he would refuse to have a doctor called in. He would quarrel with the druggist, and if the medicine seemed to him expensive he would take only one-half or one-third as much as ordered.
When Paganini reached the summit of his fame he lost all the generosity that his miserly nature ever contained. He even refused to play at the charity concerts given in Paris and Marseilles; by this lack of humanity, so opposite to the generosity of great musicians generally, he aroused the contempt of the people to such a degree as to be hooted on the streets.
The friends of the great violinist, knowing that he was publicly charged with great avarice, thought to allay these stories by having him get the credit for doing a notable deed of generosity. At that time the composer, Berlioz, who gave rich promise for the future, and who
