Many anecdotes have been recorded of his musical pursuits, his behaviour on the occasion of the performance of Graun’s _Te Deum_, after the termination of the Seven Years’ War, in 1763, being specially noteworthy. The orchestra and singers, who had assembled in the royal palace at Charlottenburg at the time commanded, found to their surprise that there was no audience assembling. But after having waited some time, wondering whether the performance of the _Te Deum_ was to take place, or whether there had been some mistake in the hour, they observed a side door being opened at the end of the hall opposite them, through which the King entered alone, and, sitting down in a corner, bade them commence. At some of the full choruses he held his hands before his eyes to conceal his tears, and, at the close of the performance, having thanked them by a slight inclination of his head, he retired through the side door by which he had entered. It is said that the Emperor was so prepossessed by the compositions of Graun, that hardly any other composer had a chance of finding favour with him. The Emperor’s sister, the Princess Amelia, was a good musician and a sharp critic, as may be gathered from the following letter which she wrote to the Kapellmeister Schulz, in Rheinsberg, after he had sent her the manuscript of his choruses to “Athalia,” with the humble request for permission to dedicate them to her, or, as he expressed himself, “to preface the work with the adorable name of so illustrious a connoisseur”:-- “I surmise, Mr. Schulz, that by an oversight you have sent me, instead of your own work, the musical bungling of a child, since I cannot discover in it the least musical art; on the contrary, it is throughout faulty from beginning to end in the expression, sentiment, and meaning of the language, as well as in the rhythm. The _motus contrarius_ has been entirely neglected: there is no proper harmony, no impressive melody; the key is never clearly indicated, so that one has to guess in what key the music is meant to move. There are no canonic imitations, not the least trace of counterpoint, but plenty of consecutive fifths and octaves! And this is to be called music! May Heaven open the eyes of those who possess such a high conceit of themselves, and enlighten their understanding to make them comprehend that they are but bunglers and fumblers. I have heard it said that the work ought to praise the master; nowadays everything is reversed and confused, the masters are the only ones who praise themselves, even if their works are offensive.” Schulz, mentioning the contents of this letter to a friend, added, “All this may be true, but why tell it me so rudely?”