Tenderness and reproach alternate in the letters written from Baden in the summer of 1825. With the young man’s habits of extravagance he has no patience whatever. He insists on a strict accounting for every florin which he allows him and is enraged when he hears that Karl has not forgotten his boyish trick of borrowing from the servants. He contrasts his own habits of thrift with the prodigence of his ward: “I should have gotten along two years with the walking-coat. True, I have the bad habit of always wearing an old coat at home, but Mr. Karl--O, what a shame! And why? The money-bag Mr. L. v. B-n is here only for this purpose.” The thought of laying down the guardianship occupies his mind over and over again and his friends without exception urge him to do it; but he clings to the office, hoping against hope for his nephew’s reclamation. Crises of apprehension and foreboding produce tender appeals and piteous expostulations like these: If you find me violent, ascribe it to my great concern for yourself, beset as you are by many dangers. I hope at least to receive a letter from you to-morrow. Do not make me fear. O, think of my sufferings! By good right I ought to have no cares of this kind; but what have I not experienced! Reflect that I am sitting here and might easily fall ill. God is my witness, I dreamed only of being rid of you and of this miserable brother and the hideous family which he foisted upon me. God hear my prayer for I can _never_ trust you again. Unfortunately your father--or rather, not your father. In the beginning of October, 1825, Karl absented himself from his lodgings for several days. Where he went and what he did is a secret held by the dead; but repentance of some sort, or consideration of the fact that he was dependent upon his uncle, seems to have persuaded him to write to Beethoven and beg his forgiveness. On the 5th of the month Beethoven wrote from Baden: Precious, dear son! I have just received your letter. Already filled with anxiety I had to-day determined to hurry to Vienna. God be thanked, it is not necessary. Do but obey me and love and happiness of the soul paired with human happiness will be at our side and you will consort an intensive existence with the external, but it were better that the _former_ dominate the _latter_.--_il fait trop froid_--I am to see you on Saturday, then, write whether you are coming in the morning or evening so that I may hasten to meet you.--I embrace you and kiss you a thousand times not my _lost_ (prodigal) _but my new-born son_. I wrote to Schlemmer--do not think harshly on that account--I am still so full of fear.