piano fantasia, a string quartet, and a quintet-overture,--to mention only those that have survived. Doubtless many writings of that early time were neglected and lost. Schubert seldom showed much interest in a work of his own after it was finished, for his attention was absorbed in fresh composition. But he had a methodical habit of dating his works and signing them "Frz. Schubert, _mpia_," i.e. _manu propria_; and this habit has been helpful to his biographers in studying the progress of his artistic labors. The list for 1812 is remarkable for this half-starved boy of fifteen, containing as it does an overture for full orchestra, two string quartets, and a sonata for piano, violin, and viola, besides other works for piano and strings. But the list for 1813 begins to seem portentous. Here comes the first symphony (in D; four movements), an octet for wind instruments, three string quartets, a third piano fantasia, thirty-four minuets, a cantata for his father's birthday, and about thirty other vocal pieces, including canons, terzets, and songs for a single voice. Besides all this he began to set to music Kotzebue's opera "Des Teufels Lustschloss," which he completed in the following year. In looking over the vocal pieces, one observes an almost unbroken succession of about a dozen with words by Schiller; and this illustrates one of Schubert's ways of doing things. When he happened to turn over the leaves of a volume of poetry, verses that pleased him would become straightway clothed in melody; they would sing themselves in his mind, often in all their concrete fullness, with superb accompaniments, noble in rhythm and rich in wondrous harmonies. If paper happened to be within reach the song would at once be written down, and the inspired youth would turn to some other poem, with like results. What in the ordinary reader fond of poetry is simply an emotional reaction of keen indescribable pleasure was in his case a sudden thrill of musical creation. Thus we are told that on a July evening in 1826, after a long walk, the thirsty Schubert strolled into a beer-garden and found a friend sitting at one of the tables with a volume of Shakespeare. After he had laid down the book Schubert picked it up and alighted upon the song in Cymbeline, "Hark, hark, the lark!" The beautiful melody with its accompaniment, as we now have it, instantly flashed upon him and was written down upon some staves hastily drawn across the back of a bill of fare. In like manner, in the course of the same evening, he set to music the drinking song in Antony and Cleopatra, and clothed with fresh immortality the verses "Who is Sylvia" in the Two Gentlemen of Verona. In its matchless perfection the Sylvia song would of itself suffice for a composer's reputation. In such wise would Schubert often look through a book, and come from its hasty perusal with a dozen or more new songs. [Illustration: SCHUBERT'S BIRTHPLACE IN VIENNA.--From a photograph.]