The attraction of Beethoven’s personal character for young persons of more than ordinary genius and culture has been already noted. Another illustration of this was Julius Franz Borgias Schneller, born (1777) at Strasburg, educated at Freiberg in the Breisgau, and just now (1805) professor of history in the Lyceum at Linz on the Danube. Driven into exile because of his active resistance to the French, he had made his way to Vienna, where his fine qualities of head and heart made him a welcome guest in literary circles and gained him the affection of the young writers of the capital. In 1803, he received his appointment at Linz, whence, three years later, he was advanced to the same position in the new university at Gratz. Perhaps the most beloved of his friends was Gleichenstein. [Sidenote: BEETHOVEN AND HIS PREDECESSORS] We pass to the notices of Ries, Czerny and others, which record divers characteristic anecdotes and personal traits of the master, not susceptible of exact chronological arrangement but which belong to this period. “Of all composers,” says Ries (“Notizen,” p. 84), “Beethoven valued most highly Mozart and Handel, then S. Bach. Whenever I found him with music in his hand or lying on his desk it was surely compositions of these heroes. Haydn seldom escaped without a few sly thrusts.” Compare this with what Jahn heard from Czerny: “Once Beethoven saw at my house the scores of six quartets by Mozart. He opened the fifth, in A, and said: ‘That’s a work! that’s where Mozart said to the world: Behold what I might have done for you if the time were here!‘” And, touching Handel: “Graun’s ‘Tod Jesu’ was unknown to Beethoven. My father brought the score to him, which he played through ~a vista~ in a masterly manner. When he came to a place where Graun had written a twofold ending to be left to the choice of the performer, he said: ‘The man must have had the gripes not to be able to say which ending is the better!’ At the end he said that the fugues were passable, the rest ordinary. Then he picked up Handel’s ‘Messiah’ with the words: ‘Here is a different fellow!’ and played the most interesting numbers and called our attention to several resemblances to Haydn’s ‘Creation,’ etc.” “Once,” says Ries (p. 100), “when after a lesson we were talking about fugue themes, I sitting at the pianoforte and he beside me, I played the first fugue theme from Graun’s ‘Tod Jesu’; he began to play it after me with his left hand, then brought in the right and developed it for perhaps half an hour. I am still unable to understand how he could have endured the uncomfortable position so long. His enthusiasm made him insensible to external impressions.” In another place (p. 87) he relates: “During a walk I mentioned to Beethoven two pure fifth progressions which sound striking and beautiful in his C minor Quartet (Op. 18). He did not know them and denied that they were fifths. It being his habit always to