Duport and _Beethoven_; received by him with great cordiality. Dined with him, his nephew and Eckschlager at the Sauerhof. Very cheerful. Back again at 5 o’clock.” On the next day (though the letter is dated “October 5”) Weber wrote an account to his wife as follows: I was right tired but had to get up yesterday at 6 o’clock because the excursion to Baden had been appointed for half-past 7 o’clock. This took place with Hasslinger, Piringer and Benedict; but unfortunately the weather was atrocious. The main purpose was to see Beethoven. He received me with an affection which was touching; he embraced me most heartily at least six or seven times and finally exclaimed enthusiastically: “Indeed, you’re a devil of a fellow!--a good fellow!” We spent the afternoon very merrily and contentedly. This rough, repellant man actually paid court to me, served me at table as if I had been his lady. In short, this day will always remain remarkable in my memory as well as of those present. It was uplifting for me to be overwhelmed with such loving attention by this great genius. How saddening is his deafness! Everything must be written down for him. We inspected the baths, drank the waters, and at 5 o’clock drove back to Vienna. Max Maria von Weber in his account of the incident says that Beethoven, in the conversation which followed his greeting of the “devil of a fellow,” railed at the management of the theatre, the concert impresarios, the public, the Italians, the taste of the people, and particularly at the ingratitude of his nephew. Weber, who was deeply moved, advised him to tear himself away from his discouraging environment and make an artistic tour through Germany, which would show him what the world thought of him. “Too late!” exclaimed Beethoven, shaking his head and going through the motions of playing the pianoforte. “Then go to England, where you are admired,” wrote Weber. “Too late!” cried Beethoven, drew Weber’s arm into his and dragged him along to the Sauerhof, where they dined. At parting, Beethoven embraced and kissed him several times and cried: “Good luck to the new opera; if I can I’ll come to the first performance.” [Sidenote: SIR JULIUS BENEDICT’S RECORD] A generation later Sir Julius Benedict, who had also put his memory of those Vienna days at the service of Weber’s son, wrote down his recollections for his work in these words: I endeavor, as I promised you, to recall the impressions I received of Beethoven when I first met him in Vienna in October, 1823. He then lived at Baden; but regularly, once a week, he came to the city and he never failed to call on his old friends Steiner and Haslinger, whose music-store was then in the Paternostergässchen, a little street, no longer in existence, between the Graben and the Kohlmarkt.