proceeded to hand to him the bundle of paper and the
carpenter's pencil which, owing to his deafness, he kept in readiness
for his visitors, Schubert's shyness prevented him writing a single
word. The production of the Variations afforded a welcome relief to
his confusion, and as Beethoven was in an uncommonly good humour the
dedication pleased him very much. The effect of the diversion,
however, was only momentary, for Beethoven, looking through the
composition, lighted upon something to which he took exception, and
forthwith proceeded to point it out to his visitor. This was the last
straw, and Schubert, losing his presence of mind altogether, fled from
the room. On reaching the street his courage returned, and too late he
thought of all that he might have said. Let us complete the anecdote
by relating that Schubert derived some consolation from the knowledge
that Beethoven not only retained the Variations, but was very pleased
with them, and often played them over with his nephew.

[Illustration: '_Schubert fled from the room._']

It was not until five years after this event that Beethoven realised
how great a singer had been uttering his sweet notes within the span
of the city in which he lived, and then the master lay upon his
death-bed. Into his hands had been placed a collection of Schubert's
songs, some sixty in all, and as he turned them over his attention was
arrested by their beauty, and he uttered frequent expressions of
surprise and delight. But even greater was his astonishment when he
learned that there were more than five hundred of such songs extant.
'How can he have found time,' he asked, 'for the setting of such long
poems, many of them containing ten others?' (by which he meant to
convey that they were as long as ten ordinary poems). For several
days the collection occupied his attention. 'Ah, if I had had this
poem I would have set it myself!' he would exclaim. 'Truly, Schubert
has the Divine fire in him!' He made frequent references to Schubert,
expressing his regret that he had not sooner known him for the
composer he was, and prophesying a great future for him in the world
of music. Schubert himself longed to pay his respects to the master he
revered so highly, and one day, in company with his friends Anselm
Huettenbrenner and Schindler (both of whom were well known to
Beethoven), he presented himself at the door of the sick man's
chamber. Schindler informed Beethoven of their arrival, and