Such incidents as the quarrels with Breuning, his dismissal of Schindler, Schuppanzich, and Count Lichnowsky during the preliminary work of the testimonial concert, his suspicions of his friends at the second concert when he invited them to a dinner, and then charged them with an attempt to defraud him,—­these at first glance, especially if considered apart, lead to the conclusion that Beethoven was not intended for friendship.  This was not the case however.  His deafness and preoccupation with his work, led him to keep aloof to some extent from others, but it is undeniable that he greatly valued this sentiment and actively fostered it.  Perhaps, like Thoreau, he expected too much from it, and could find no one to respond to the measure of his anticipations.  He was probably disappointed one way or another, with every friend that came to him, but to the end kept alive his faith in humankind, and managed always to maintain intimate and friendly relations with one or more persons.  There is no interval from his twentieth year up to his death, of which this cannot be said.  He was essentially gregarious and recognized the need of friendship.  That he was unlike his fellow human beings—­essentially different—­he knew.  He often sought to bridge these differences, in order to make friendly intercourse with others possible.

Among the friends of this period may be mentioned Huettenbrenner, Schubert’s friend.  Schubert himself would have prized Beethoven’s friendship in the highest degree, but he was too modest to bring it about.  The junior by twenty years, and in Beethoven’s lifetime unknown to fame, it devolved on him to take the initiative in this matter.  A meeting could easily have been arranged as both dined at the same restaurant, and Huettenbrenner could have managed to bring them together.  Beethoven was generally approachable when not at work, and was always well disposed toward young musicians of talent, but the habitually modest estimate which Schubert placed on himself, coupled with the regard amounting to reverence which he entertained for Beethoven, was sufficient to deter the younger man.  He indeed attempted a meeting in 1822, but the result was a fiasco owing to his extreme diffidence.  Having composed some variations on a French air (opus 10) he desired to dedicate them to Beethoven and prevailed on Diabelli to arrange a meeting, as well as call with him on the master, since he feared to go alone.  Beethoven’s demeanor toward him was genial and friendly.  When Schubert attempted conversation the master handed him a pencil and paper.  He was too nervous to write in reply, but managed to produce his composition, which Beethoven examined with some appearance of interest.  The master finally came upon some incorrect harmonization (Schubert had never received a proper technical training) and in mild terms called the young composer’s attention to it.  This so disconcerted him that he fled to the street, regardless of consequences.  The incident is related by Schindler, but is called into question by Kreissle, who wrote an exhaustive biography of Schubert.  Kreissle says that Beethoven was not at home when Schubert called.