diplomas, souvenirs, and other mementoes,
which had been presented to him by his royal and noble patrons.

Perhaps no more touching example could be given of the affectionate
esteem in which Haydn was held by all classes of music-lovers than
that afforded by the last occasion on which he appeared in public. He
had been for a long time living in retirement in the house which he
purchased on the outskirts of Vienna, but having expressed a wish to
be present at a performance of the 'Creation' at the University on
March 27, 1808, he was carried to the hall in his arm-chair. The
enthusiasm evoked by the spectacle of the aged composer being borne
into the arena was in itself a convincing proof that his popularity
had not lessened. But the emotions of the audience were more deeply
stirred when, at the passage 'And there was light,' Haydn lifted his
hand and, pointing upwards, exclaimed, 'It came from thence!' At this
point his agitation was so great that it was deemed prudent to remove
him to his home; and as the carriers lifted him up and bore him
towards the door, the people flocked about his chair to touch his hand
and bid him farewell. At the door itself the crowd was denser than
ever, and pressing through the throng came Beethoven, who, bending
over his old master, kissed him fervently on the hand and forehead. As
he passed through the exit Haydn turned to take a last look at those
who were standing and waving their farewells, and as he did so he
raised his hands as if in the act of blessing them. The next moment
the heavy portiere fell, and Haydn passed for ever from the public
sight.

A year later the old musician lay stretched upon his bed listening to
the booming of the French cannon, which were bombarding the city.
Presently the crash of a ball which fell close to his house caused the
servants to utter a cry of fear, whereupon their master called out to
them, 'Children, don't be frightened. No harm can happen to you while
Haydn is by.'

One day, shortly after this event, when Vienna was in the occupation
of the French, the faithful Elssler reported that a French officer
desired to pay his respects to the composer whom France held in such
veneration. The interview was granted, and the officer, before taking
his leave, sang 'In Native Worth,' from the 'Creation,' with so much
feeling and expression that Haydn's eyes filled with tears, and he
embraced the singer with warmth and tenderness.

[Illustration: '_Hay