ed precincts of Leipsic, Germany, where he preserved his
incognito, though he was not long in winning the grace, and other
considerations due enlarged intellect, from those not lacking that
invaluable commodity themselves. Herr Beethoven--the new title of our
Italian "mi lord"--conceived the project of convincing the mighty
Emperor--the hero of the sword--that so little a javelin as the pen
could puncture the _sac_ containing all _his_ great pretensions, and let
the vapor out; in short, to show the conqueror, that the pen _was_
mightier than his magic sword. Beethoven purposed writing a pamphlet
_memorial_, involving the bombastic pretensions, the gigantic
extravagance and arrogant ambition of Bonaparte. The man of letters well
knew the ground upon which he was to tread, the danger of ambushed foes,
involving such a _brochure_, and the caution necessary with which he was
to produce his work. But Beethoven felt the necessity of the production;
he possessed the power to execute a great benefit to his fellow man, and
he determined to wield it and take the chances. Though scarcely giving
breath to his project--guarding each page of his writing as vigilantly
as though they were each blessed with the enchantment of a
_Koh-i-Noor_--a mysterious agency discovered the fact--Napoleon shook
in his royal boots, and swore in good round French, when the following
missive reached his royal eye:--

_Sire(!)_--A plot is brewing against your peace; the safety of your
throne is menaced by a villainous scribe. My informant, who has
read the manuscripts, informs me that he has never seen any thing
better or more imposing, and ingenious in argument and force, than
the fellow's appeal to all the crowned heads and people of Europe.
It is calculated to carry an irresistible conviction of the wrongs
they suffer from your imperial majesty to every breast. These
manuscripts are fraught with more danger to your Imperial Majesty's
Empire, than all the hostile bayonets in the world combined against
you, Sire.

Leipsic, 1808. Baron De----.

Here was a hot shot dangling over the magazines of the mighty man, and
the "little corporal" jumped into his boots, and began to set the wheels
of his great "expediency" in motion. A message flew here, and another
there; a dispatch to this one, and a royal order to that one. A dozen
secretaries, and a score of _amanuensises_ were instantly at work, and
the a