It is said that he once went into a Viennese restaurant, and, instead of
giving an order, began to write a score on the back of the bill-of-fare,
absorbed and unconscious of time and place. At last he asked how much
he owed. "You owe nothing, sir," said the waiter. "What! do you think I
have not dined?" "Most assuredly." "Very well, then, give me something."
"What do you wish?" "Anything."

These infirmities do not belittle the man of genius, but set off his
greatness as with a foil. They illustrate the thought of Goethe: "It is
all the same whether one is great or small, he has to pay the reckoning
of humanity."

VI.

Yet beneath these eccentricities what wealth of tenderness, sympathy,
and kindliness existed! His affection for his graceless nephew Karl is a
touching picture. With the rest of his family he had never been on very
cordial terms. His feeling of contempt for snobbery and pretense is very
happily illustrated in his relations with his brother Johann. The latter
had acquired property, and he sent Ludwig his card, inscribed "Johann
van Beethoven, land-owner." The caustic reply was a card, on which
was written, "Ludwig van Beethoven, brain-owner." But on Karl all the
warmest feelings of a nature which had been starving to love and be
loved poured themselves out. He gave the scapegrace every luxury and
indulgence, and, self-absorbed as he was in an ideal sphere, felt the
deepest interest in all the most trivial things that concerned him. Much
to the uncle's sorrow, Karl cared nothing for music; but, worst of
all, he was an idle, selfish, heartless fellow, who sneered at his
benefactor, and valued him only for what he could get from him. At last
Beethoven became fully aware of the lying ingratitude of his nephew, and
he exclaims: "I know now you have no pleasure in coming to see me, which
is only natural, for my atmosphere is too pure for you. God has never
yet forsaken me, and no doubt some one will be found to close my eyes."
Yet the generous old man forgave him, for he says in the codicil of his
will, "I appoint my nephew Karl my sole heir."

Frequently, glimpses of the true vein showed themselves in such little
episodes as that which occurred when Moscheles, accompanied by his
brother, visited the great musician for the first time.

"Arrived at the door of the house," writes Moscheles, "I had some
misgivings, knowing Beethoven's strong aversion to strangers. I
therefore told my brother to wait below