A circumstance that contributed to his success was his _power of abstraction_, which, in common with all deep thinkers, he possessed in a remarkable degree. With the first few bars of the given Thema, the scene before his eyes, the daylight, the bystanders, all vanished; and Beethoven was as fully immersed in the solitude of his own thoughts as though he had been suddenly transported to some desert island, with penguins and sea-gulls for listeners. Ries gives a curious instance of this utter disregard of all outward things, in the story of the great master's commencing one day, while giving him a lesson, to play with the left hand the first fugue from Graun's "Tod Jesu." Gradually the right hand was added, and regardless of his awkward position, the fugue developed in all conceivable manners for the space of half an hour, when he suddenly awoke to discover that his pupil was still in his place before the pianoforte. In 1800 a more formidable rival appeared at Vienna in the person of Steibelt. Having conceived a great idea of his own powers from the flattery of his Parisian admirers, Steibelt came to the capital sure of conquest, and did not even consider it necessary to visit the opponent so far beneath him. They met accidentally at the house of Count Fries, "where," says Ferdinand Ries, "Beethoven played for the first time[15] his Trio in B flat major for piano; clarionet, and 'cello, Op. 11, in which there is not much room for display. Steibelt heard it with a kind of condescension, paid Beethoven several compliments, and believed himself sure of victory. He played a quintet of his own composition, and then improvised, and produced a great sensation by his free use of _tremolo_, which was at that time something quite new. To ask Beethoven to play again was not to be thought of. Eight days after there was again a concert at Count Fries'. Steibelt played another quintet with great success; he had besides, as might be easily perceived, _studied_ a brilliant improvisation, and chosen for a subject the theme on which the finale of Beethoven's trio was built. This disgusted the admirers of Beethoven, and displeased the latter also. It was his turn to seat himself at the pianoforte and to improvises. He placed himself at the instrument with his ordinary air--I might say, rather ill-humouredly, and as if pushed there. In passing, he seized the violoncello part of Steibelt's quintet, placed it upside down on the desk (was this designedly?), and drummed out with one finger the theme of the first few bars. "Then, impelled by his insulted and excited feelings, he improvised in such a manner that Steibelt quitted the room before Beethoven had ceased. He would never meet him again, and, when invited anywhere, always stipulated that Beethoven should not be present."