With forty years we've gained the mountain's summit, We stand awhile and look behind; There we behold the quiet years of childhood And there the joy of youth we find. Look once again, and then, with freshened vigour, Take up thy staff and onward wend! A mountain-ridge extendeth, broad, before thee, Not here, but there must thou descend. No longer, climbing, need'st thou struggle breathless, The level path will lead thee on; And then with thee a little downward tending, Before thou know'st, thy journey's done. With the knowledge we have gained of the master's habit of producing his large works in couples, we are prepared to find him employed this summer on the composition of a fourth symphony. Avoiding a long journey, he settled down to his work at Mürz Zuschlag in Styria, not far from the highest ridge of the Semmering. Hearing soon after his arrival there that his old friend Misi Reinthaler, now grown up into a young lady, was leaving home under her mother's care to go through a course of treatment under a famous Vienna specialist, he wrote to place his rooms in Carlsgasse at Frau Reinthaler's disposal. The offer was not accepted, but when the invalid was sufficiently convalescent, he insisted that the two ladies should come for a few days as his guests to Mürz Zuschlag, where he took rooms for them near his own lodgings. He went over to see them also at Vienna, and spent the greater part of a morning showing them his valuable collection of autographs and other treasures. 'Yes, these would have been something to give a wife!' was his answer to the ladies' expressions of delight. Amongst his collection of musical autographs were two written on different sides of the same sheet of paper--one of Beethoven, the song 'Ich liebe dich'; the other of Schubert, part of a pianoforte composition. These, with Brahms' autograph signature 'Joh. Brahms in April 1872,' written at the bottom of one of the pages, constitute a unique triplet. The sheet now belongs to the Gesellschaft library, and is framed within glass. The society of Hanslick, who came with his wife to stay near Mürz Zuschlag for part of the summer, was very acceptable to Brahms. The departure of his friends at the close of the season, in the company of some mutual Vienna acquaintances, incited the composer to an act of courtesy of a kind quite unusual with him, the sequel to which seems to have caused him almost comical annoyance that found expression in a couple of notes sent immediately afterwards to Hanslick. 'DEAREST FRIEND, 'Here I stand with roses and pansies; which means with a basket of fruit, liqueurs and cakes! You must have travelled through by the earlier Sunday extra train? I made a good and unusual impression for politeness at the station! The children are now rejoicing over the cakes....'