hatred of the woman and his disappointment with the son. Such intensity of malevolence, though it may have had its origin in the profoundest conviction of virtuous purpose, could not fail to be prejudicial to his own moral character. So, also, his solicitude for his ward’s material welfare, which extended to a time when he should no longer be able to make provision for him, seems to have warped his nature. It weakened his pride; distorted his moral view; subjected him, not always unjustly, to accusation of dishonesty in his dealings with his patrons and publishers; made him parsimonious, and at the last brought upon him the reproach of having begged alms of his English friends, though possessed of property which might easily and quickly have been converted into money to supply his last needs more than generously. To protect him against indictment for these moral flaws, many of Beethoven’s biographers thought, and still think, it necessary or justifiable to veil the truth and magnify the transgressions of his kindred and friends. His earliest apologists may have had other reasons besides these for so doing; his present biographers have none. By his own decree the world is entitled to know the truth. Schindler was embittered against Holz; Holz against Schindler; both against Johann van Beethoven, the brother; Beethoven himself taught his nephew to despise his uncle Johann as well as Schindler; and all three--Schindler, Holz and Johann--commissioned to that end, reported their observations of the lad’s shortcomings to his guardian. He accepted everything they said against the boy as he did everything they said against each other; indeed, his suspicious nature made him prone to believe evil of everyone near to him; and we do not know of a certainty that their reports were always within the bounds of strict veracity. After the tragedy they were unanimous in condemnation of the misguided, wayward, wicked youth and in praise of Beethoven’s magnanimity and self-sacrifice; but the evidence of helpful advice, warning and admonition to the mariner who was sailing a craft on a sea full of dangers to which nature had made him blind is not plentiful. Holz was young. He had scarcely finished sowing his own wild oats, and he seems to have been more lenient in his judgment than his elders, though just as convinced of the dangers into which the young man was running during the fateful last two years; but the few practical suggestions which we find him making do not seem to have been accepted. He was himself, like everybody else, under suspicion in Beethoven’s mind.