When the great choral symphony was first performed he attempted to conduct, but in reality another conductor was stationed near him to give the right time to the band. After the majestic instrumental movements had been played came the final one, concluding with Schiller's "Hymn to Joy." The chorus breaks forth, thundering out in concert with all the instruments. At the words "Seid umschlunger, Millionen," the audience could no longer restrain their excited delight, and burst into tremendous applause, drowning the voices of singers and the sounds of strings and brass. The last notes are heard, but still Beethoven stands there absorbed in thought--he does not know that the music is ended. This was the first time that the people realized the full deprivation of hearing from which he suffered. Fraulein Unger, the soprano, gently takes his arm and turns him round to front the acclaiming multitude. There are few in that crowd who, while they cheer, do not feel the tears stealing down their cheeks at the sight of the poor lonely man who, from the prison-house of his affliction, has brought to them the gladness of thought so divine. Unmoved, he bowed his acknowledgment, and quietly left the building. His later years were embittered with troubles about his nephew Carl, a youth to whom he was fondly attached, but who shamefully repaid the love of the desolate old man. Letters like the following, to the teacher in whose house the boy lived, show the constant thought and affection given to this boy: "Your estimable lady is politely requested to let the undersigned know as soon as possible (that I may not be obliged to keep it all in my head) how many pairs of stockings, trousers, shoes, and drawers are required, and how many yards of kerseymere to make a pair of black trousers for my tall nephew." His death was the result of a cold which produced inflammation of the lungs. On the morning of March 24, 1827, he took the sacrament and when the clergyman was gone and his friends stood round his bed, he muttered. "_Plaudite amici, comedia finita est._" He then fell into an agony so intense that he could no longer articulate, and thus continued until the evening of the 26th. A violent thunder-storm arose; one of his friends, watching by his bedside when the thunder was rolling and a vivid flash of lightning lit up the room, saw him suddenly open his eyes, lift his right hand upward for some seconds--as if in defiance of the powers of evil--with clenched fist and a stern, solemn expression on his face; and then he sank back and died. PAGANINI (1784-1840) [Illustration: Paganini.]