“She was barely twenty, this Miss Smithson, and, without knowing it, she was a poem, a passion, a revolution--By her absolute truth she conquered. “She it was who gave the lead to Dorval, Malibran, Victor Hugo and Berlioz. To her Delacroix owed his conception of sweet Ophelia. “Now she is dead and her dream of glory--that glory which passes so rapidly--is over and done. “In my young days they used to sing a funeral dirge to Juliet, wherein recurred, like an old Greek chorus, the heart-breaking refrain, ‘Throw flowers! Throw flowers!’ “‘Juliet is dead. Throw flowers! Death lies upon her, softly as frost on April grass. Throw flowers! Her love song is a funeral knell. Throw flowers! Her marriage feast the feast of Death. Throw flowers! Her marriage blossoms deck her tomb. Throw flowers!’” Liszt wrote from Weimar as only he can write: “She inspired you, you loved and sang of her. Her work is done!” _To_ LOUIS BERLIOZ. “_6th March 1854._--My poor dear Louis,--You know all. I am alone and writing to you in the large sitting-room next to her deserted bedroom. I have just been to the cemetery where I laid two wreaths upon her grave--one for you and one for myself. The servants are still here and are arranging things for the sale; I want to realise as much as possible for you. “I have kept her hair. “You will never know how much we made each other suffer; our very suffering bound us one to the other. I could neither live with her nor without her. “Alexis and I talked much of you yesterday. How I wish you were more rational! It would make me so happy to feel that you were sure of yourself. “I shall be able to do more for you now than has hitherto been possible, but I shall take every precaution to prevent your squandering money. Alexis agrees that I am right. “At present I am penniless and shall be for at least six months; I must pay the doctor and the sale will bring in but little. The King of Saxony’s director wishes me to be in Dresden next month and I shall have to borrow money for my journey.” * * * * * “_23rd March._--Your letter is an unexpected pleasure, dear boy. With seventy francs a month you can easily save, if you give up your habit of squandering money. Tell me whether you can get back the watch you pawned at Havre. My father gave it to you. If you cannot, I will buy you another. I have had a watch chain made for you of your mother’s hair; keep it carefully. I also had a bracelet made for my sister, the rest of the hair I shall keep. “Did you see Jules Janin’s touching words on your poor mother and his exquisite reference to my _Romeo_ ‘Throw flowers?’ I hope for another letter from you before Saturday.