fare, and on
the back of it scribbled a few staves, and then, upon the spot, 'amid
the hubbub of the beer-garden, that beautiful song, so perfectly
fitting the words, so skilful and so happy in its accompaniment, came
into perfect existence.' Later on in the evening of the same day he
added to this creation two more songs from Shakespeare--the
drinking-song from 'Antony and Cleopatra,' and the well-known 'Who is
Sylvia?' In the instances just given Schubert's choice could not have
been more happily made; but this does not render it less difficult for
us to understand why in so many cases he should have elected to
immortalise by his music poems devoid of merit both in feeling and
expression.

We have seen something of Schubert's veneration for Beethoven as a
grand personality, even before the latter's music had begun to take
hold of him. At first there is no doubt that the music of Mozart had
the greatest fascination for him; there is evidence of this in
Schubert's early instrumental works, and in the following passage from
his diary, penned after he had heard one of Mozart's quintets played
in 1816: 'Gently, as if out of the distance, did the magic tones of
Mozart's music strike my ears. With what inconceivable, alternate
force and tenderness did Schlesinger's masterly playing impress it
deep, deep into my heart! Such lovely impressions remain on the soul,
there to work for good, past all power of time or circumstance. In the
darkness of this life they reveal a clear, bright, beautiful prospect,
inspiring confidence and hope. O Mozart, immortal Mozart! what
countless consolatory images of a bright better world hast thou
stamped on our souls,' Beethoven was a great personality then, but as
time went on the influence of his music grew ever stronger. So far,
however, Schubert had been content to worship his hero at a distance,
for which purpose he would haunt the restaurant at which Beethoven
usually dined. But in 1822 he published a set of Variations on a
French Air, which he dedicated to Beethoven 'as his admirer and
worshipper,' and his longing to present these in person to the
composer was so great as to overcome his natural timidity.
Accordingly, accompanied by the publisher, Diabelli, he called at
Beethoven's house; they found the composer at home, and a courteous
but somewhat formal welcome was accorded them. This in itself was bad
enough for poor Schubert, whose courage straightway forsook him; but
when Beethoven