tones of military instruments accompanying the agonizing appeal for mercy sent up by the voices. The device is purely dramatic and it was not an entirely novel conceit of Beethoven’s. When the French invaded Styria in 1796, Haydn wrote a mass “In tempore belli” in which a soft drum-roll entered immediately after the words “Agnus Dei” and was gradually reinforced by trumpets and other wind-instruments “as if the enemy were heard approaching in the distance.” Whence came the plan of postponing the publication of the mass for a period in order to sell manuscript copies of it by subscription to the sovereigns of Europe does not appear. Beethoven had it under consideration at the beginning of 1823, for the year was only a week old when he sent his brother Johann with a letter to Griesinger of the Saxon Legation asking him to give advice on the subject to the bearer of the letter, apologizing for not coming in person on the ground of indisposition. Whether or not Griesinger came to his assistance we do not know, but within a fortnight work on the project had been energetically begun. Schindler was now called upon to write, fetch and carry as steadily and industriously as if he were, in fact, what he described himself to be--a private secretary. Among his papers in Berlin are found many billets and loose memoranda bearing on the subject, without date, but grouped as to periods by Schindler himself and provided with occasional glosses touching their contents. Beethoven took so much of his time in requisition, indeed, that he offered to pay him 50 florins after the collection of one of the subscription fees, but Schindler records that he never received them nor would he have accepted them. He was, as he informed the world for many years afterward on his visiting card, “L’Ami de Beethoven,” and his very considerable and entirely unselfish labors were “works of friendship” for which he wanted no remuneration; but he was very naturally rejoiced when Beethoven presented him with several autograph scores, and we have seen how, after the death of Beethoven, Breuning gave him many papers which seemed valueless then but are looked upon as invaluable now. Moreover, he disposed of his Beethoven _memorabilia_ to the Royal Library of Berlin for an annuity of 400 thalers--all of which, however, does not detract from the disinterestedness of his labors for Beethoven, alive, suffering and so frequently helpless. [Sidenote: ROYAL SUBSCRIPTIONS INVITED]