For a time this policy was a complete success, and he amassed a considerable fortune, but eventually he lost the greater part of it and, broken in health and spirit, he retired to a

Continental health resort, to re-invigorate his tired constitution.

It was on his last, and what proved to be practically permanent, visit to England that he commenced the memorable series of works that proved of such vital consequence to this country. There can be little doubt that it is the sense of the immense indebtedness of England to this wonderful man, that has led many people to claim him as an Englishman. With every respect for the feeling that prompts it, nothing could be further removed from fact. A long residence in the country no more makes him an Englishman, proud as we should be if he were, than it does the criminal alien who has been so much in evidence of late years.

Indeed, if any country other than his own, had any basis for claiming him, it seems to me it would be Italy.

He lived there in his early years; thoroughly mastered her schools of both sacred and operatic music, the knowledge of which, in after years, was of such incalculable value to him, and acquired such a command of the language, that he was able to speak and compose music to it as if he were, veritably, a native of the country.

Now, when he came to England he was a musician perfectly equipped. There was, certainly, no one who could teach him anything, and all that one can say is, that having a mind extraordinarily receptive, he would be quick to grasp and turn to advantage any new influence with which he might be brought into contact.

Thus, he was certainly affected by Purcell's music, which he probably became acquainted with for the first time. The evidence of this is perfectly clear and convincing.

On the other hand, he never mastered the English language, notwithstanding the many years he lived here. His pronunciation was terrible, and that he often failed to comprehend the relative force of the words of a sentence when setting them to music, the early editions of his oratorios prove conclusively. Yet so impatient of criticism was he, that, did his librettist suggest an alteration, the unhappy man usually provoked a storm from which he was only too happy to escape.