my Creation. But let us begin--let us begin!"

He rapidly walked toward his desk, but stopped suddenly. "Hold on!"
said he; "I really forgot the most important thing--my ring. While
looking at the precious ribbon of my beautiful English friend, I did
not think of the ring of my great king--and still it is the talisman
without which I cannot work at all."

Returning once, more to the bureau, he opened a small case and took
from it a ring which he put on his finger. He contemplated the large
and brilliant diamonds of the ring with undisguised admiration.

"Yes," he exclaimed--"yes, thou art my talisman, and when I look at
thee, it seems to me as if I saw the eyes of the great king beaming
down upon me, and pouring courage and enthusiasm into my heart. That
is the reason, too, why I cannot work unless I have the ring on my
finger. [Footnote: Haydn had dedicated six quartets to Frederick the
Great, who acknowledged the compliment by sending him a valuable
diamond ring. Haydn wore this ring whenever he composed a new work,
and it seemed to him as though inspiration failed him unless he wore
the ring. He stated this on many occasions.] But now I am ready and
adorned like a bridegroom who is going to his young bride. Yes, yes,
it is just so with me. I am going to my bride--to St. Cecilia!"

When he now returned to his desk, his features assumed a grave and
solemn expression. He sat down once more at the piano and played an
anthem, then he resumed his seat at the desk, took a sheet of music-
paper and commenced writing. He wielded his pen with the utmost
rapidity, and covered page after page with the queer little dots and
dashes which we call notes.