On returning to his family he gave himself up completely to the study of the harpsichord and the organ, and also learned to play upon the violin. As regards harmony, the youthful Rameau failed to get beyond the first principles of that art-science, as he could not find in Dijon any musician sufficiently well informed on the rules and practice of counterpoint to perfect his knowledge of harmony. Who knows whether it was not precisely this unfortunate blank in his studies which caused him later on to undertake the theoretical inquiries into the formation of chords that are the subject of his admirable treatises on harmony? Before he had thoroughly learned the laws of harmony, Rameau, as yet a beardless youth, yielded to the law laid down by the little winged god whose name is Cupid. He fell madly in love with a widow who was his neighbor. Everybody knows that nothing exercises a more unfortunate or more beneficial influence over the mind of a young lover than the advice given him by the woman he loves. Happily the widow gave good advice to her adorer. She went so far one day as to reproach him with his ignorance of the French language. “You spell like a scullion!” she told him. Rameau did not die on the spot in consequence of this outrage, for he was a strong-minded youth; but his face became scarlet, and he promised to study—a promise he kept. Rameau’s father, however, who desired to put an end to the intrigue carried on by his son—who was as precocious in passionate gallantry as he was talented on the harpsichord—broke off the liaison by sending him to travel in Italy. Rameau did not tear himself away from his fair neighbor without great emotion, his heart beating _prestissimo appassionato_; but he was bound to obey the paternal behest. The future author of “Castor and Pollux” was not yet eighteen years of age when he arrived in Milan. The works of the Italian composers then in vogue did not at all modify his taste, which was entirely the outcome of his own peculiar character. He heard the music of Scarlatti, Lotti, Duni, Caldara, Leo, and it caused him surprise rather than satisfaction. He remained but a short time in the capital of Lombardy, and did not continue his Italian excursion further than that point. He had but one desire, and that was to return to France. Chance having brought him into contact with a theatrical manager, who had come to Milan to get together an orchestra and an operatic troupe for a tour in the south of France, Rameau accepted an engagement as violinist. It was several years later when he returned to Dijon. Whether or not he sought the widow for whom he had felt such an affection history does not say. We are rather inclined to think that he did not see her again, as he remained at Dijon but a very short time. Henceforth, he patiently awaited the moment when he should be able to go to Paris, to sit at the feet of eminent masters who would perfect him in the art of composition.