"Beethoven was dressed in a dark gray jacket and trousers of some long-haired material, which reminded me of the description of Robinson Crusoe I had just been reading. The jet-black hair stood upright on his head. A beard, unshaven for several days, made still darker his naturally swarthy face. I noticed also, with a child's quick perception, that he had cotton wool which seemed to have been dipped in some yellow fluid in both ears. His hands were covered with hair, and the fingers were very broad, especially at the tips." You know, of course, that when we think of music we think of _hearing_ it. We think how it _sounds_ to us. A lover of music loves to hear its _tones_ and to feel its _rhythm_. Like every other human being, Beethoven loved music in just this way. He loved its sounds as they fell on the ear. As colors delight our eyes, so tones fell with delight upon the ears of this man. Beethoven was once invited to play at the home of a nobleman, but upon being informed that he would be expected to go as a menial, he indignantly rejected the proposal. [Illustration: No. 11 THE ANGRY BEETHOVEN] Beethoven had many friends and was fond of them. They knew that he was a genius and were glad to forget some of the very strange things that he did when he got angry. Here is a picture of the great master seated among a group of his friends. Although Beethoven was odd, his friends loved him. [Illustration: No. 12 BEETHOVEN PLAYING FOR HIS FRIENDS] But a strange Fate touched him and took away his sense of hearing. From the time he was about thirty years old his hearing grew gradually worse. Indeed it was necessary for him to have a piano especially constructed with additional wires so that he could hear. [Illustration: No. 13 BEETHOVEN'S PIANO] Can you think of anything more cruel, more terrible, more depressing, more awful? [Illustration: No. 14 BEETHOVEN IN THE COUNTRY] And yet he went on day, after day, composing beautiful music as he walked the fields, or as he sat at his table. For we must remember that he could hear his own music in his thoughts. That is, the mind that made the music could hear it, though the ear itself was forever closed to the sound of it. Year after year he continued to write symphonies and concertos, sonatas, songs, choral and chamber music. And year after year the poor ears closed a little more and still a little more, until finally not even the loudest noises could penetrate them. And yet he worked bravely; writing every beautiful music thought that came to him, so that the world, and that means you and all of us, might have them. When Beethoven was dying in 1827, Schubert called upon him and remained with him for some time. [Illustration: No. 15