eye for business and disposed of the remaining shutters to other summer visitors. Beethoven had arrived in Baden on August 13 with the help of Schindler, towards whom he was filled with as much gratitude as can be read in the following remarks from two letters to his nephew dated August 16 and 23: My ruined belly must be restored by medicine and diet, and this I owe to the _faithful messenger_! You can imagine how I am racing about, for only to-day did I really begin my service to the muses; I _must_, though that is not noticeable, for the baths invite me at least to the enjoyment of beautiful nature, but _nous sommes trop pauvre et il faut écrire ou de n’avoir pas de quoi_. He (Schindler) was with me only a day here to take a lodging, as you know; slept in Hetzendorf, and as he said, went back to Josephstadt in the morning. Do not get to gossipping against him. It might work him injury, and is he not already sufficiently punished? Being what he is, it is necessary plainly to tell him the truth, for his evil character which is prone to trickery needs to be handled seriously. Beethoven’s unamiable mood, which finds copious expression in abuse of Schindler at this juncture, has some explanation (also extenuation, if that is necessary) in the rage and humiliation with which contemplation of his brother’s domestic affairs filled him. Johann was convalescing and wrote a letter to the composer which occasioned the following outburst under date of August 13: Dear Brother: I am rejoiced at your better health. As regards myself, my eyes are not entirely recovered and I came here with a disordered stomach and a frightful catarrh, the first due to the arch-pig of a housekeeper, the second to a beast of a kitchen-maid whom I have once driven away but whom the other took back. _You ought not to have gone to Steiner_; I will see what can be done. It will be difficult to do anything with the songs _in puris_ as their texts are German; more likely with the overture.