The story of the relations between these two artists is touching. It seems singular enough that Schubert and Beethoven should have lived in the same city for thirty years without meeting more than once until the very end. By his twentieth year, if not before, the feeling of Schubert for the older composer had come to be little short of adoration. But Beethoven was absorbed in work, and stone deaf withal, and not always easy of approach, and his adorer was timid. Sometimes he came into the café where Schubert was dining and sat down at another table. For a man of the world to get up, step across the room, and open a conversation with the demigod, might seem no very difficult undertaking; for Schubert it was simply impossible. But in 1822 a meeting was at length brought about. His "Variations on a French Air" were published by Diabelli and dedicated to Beethoven, and Diabelli took Schubert with him to the master's house to present the offering in person. Beethoven received the visitors graciously, and paper and pencil for conversation were handed to them as usual, but Schubert was too confused to write a word. Most likely it was Diabelli who handed to Beethoven the Variations and called his attention to the tribute of admiration printed at their head. On looking over the music Beethoven stumbled upon some daring or questionable innovation of style, and in his most kindly manner turned to Schubert to inquire his reason for it, or perhaps to make some mild criticism quite proper from an artist of fifty-two years to one of twenty-five. At this the poor fellow simply lost his head, and with some incoherent exclamation fled into the street. Ah, what chagrin when once safely alone, and the very thing he ought to have said, so neat and telling, popped into his head! But to go back, or to speak to the great man again seemed more than ever impossible.