These verses are truly beautiful, with the exception of one fault that we often find in poets, which is, their being misled by Fancy to believe that they really do see and hear _what they wish to see and hear_, and yet even this is far below their ideal. You may well believe that I wish to become acquainted with the poet or poetess; pray receive also yourself my thanks for the kindly feeling you show towards your sincere friend,
L. V. BEETHOVEN.
[Footnote 1: Nothing has. .h.i.therto been ascertained respecting either the date of this note, or the lady to whom it is addressed.]
63.
TO ZMESKALL.[1]
January 23, 1810.
What are you about? My gayety yesterday, though only a.s.sumed, has not only vexed but offended you. The _uninvited guests_ seemed so little to deserve your ill-humor, that I endeavored to use all my friendly influence to prevent your giving way to it, by my pretended flow of spirits. I am still suffering from indigestion. Say whether you can meet me at the "Swan"
to-day.
Your true friend,
BEETHOVEN.
[Footnote 1: The cause that gave rise to this note is not known.]
64.
TO WEGELER.
Vienna, May 2, 1810.
MY DEAR OLD FRIEND,--
These lines may very possibly cause you some surprise, and yet, though you have no written proof of it, I always retain the most lively remembrance of you. Among my MSS. is one that has long been destined for you, and which you shall certainly receive this summer. For the last two years my secluded and quiet life has been at an end, and I have been forcibly drawn into the vortex of the world; though as yet I have attained no good result from this,--nay, perhaps rather the reverse,--but who has not been affected by the storms around us? Still I should not only be happy, but the happiest of men, if a demon had not taken up his settled abode in my ears. Had I not somewhere read that man must not voluntarily put an end to his life while he can still perform even one good deed, I should long since have been no more, and by my own hand too! Ah! how fair is life; but for me it is forever poisoned!
You will not refuse me one friendly service, which is to procure me my baptismal certificate. As Steffen Breuning has an account with you, he can pay any expenses you may incur, and I will repay him here. If you think it worth while to make the inquiry in person, and choose to make a journey from Coblenz to Bonn, you have only to charge it all to me. I must, however, warn you that I had an _elder brother_ whose name was also Ludwig, with the second name of _Maria_, who died. In order to know my precise age, the date of my birth must be first ascertained, this circ.u.mstance having already led others into error, and caused me to be thought older than I really am. Unluckily, I lived for some time without myself knowing my age [see Nos. 26 and 51]. I had a book containing all family incidents, but it has been lost, Heaven knows how! So pardon my urgently requesting you to try to discover _Ludwig Maria"s_ birth, as well as that of the present Ludwig. The sooner you can send me the certificate of baptism the more obliged shall I be.[1] I am told that you sing one of my songs in your Freemason Lodge, probably the one in E major, which I have not myself got; send it to me, and I promise to compensate you threefold and fourfold.[2]
Think of me with kindness, little as I apparently deserve it. Embrace your dear wife and children, and all whom you love, in the name of your friend,
BEETHOVEN.
[Footnote 1: Wegeler says:--"I discovered the solution of the enigma (why the baptismal certificate was so eagerly sought) from a letter written to me three months afterwards by my brother-in-law, Stephan von Breuning, in which he said: "Beethoven tells me at least once a week that he means to write to you; but I believe his _intended marriage is broken off_; he therefore feels no ardent inclination to thank you for having procured his baptismal certificate.""]
[Footnote 2: Beethoven was mistaken; Wegeler had only supplied other music to the words of Matthisson"s _Opfer Lied_.]
65.
TO ZMESKALL.
July 9, 1810.
DEAR Z.,--
You are about to travel, and so am I on account of my health. In the mean time all goes topsy-turvy with me. The _Herr_[1] wants to have me with him, and Art is not less urgent in her claims. I am partly in Schonbrunn and partly here; every day a.s.sailed by messages from strangers and new acquaintances, and even as regards art I am often driven nearly distracted by my undeserved fame. Fortune seeks me, and for that very reason I almost dread some new calamity. As for your "Iphigenie," the facts are these. I have not seen it for the last two years and a half, and have no doubt lent it to some one; but to whom?--that is the question. I have sent in all directions, and have not yet discovered it, but hope still to find it. If lost, you shall be indemnified. Farewell, my dear Z. I trust that when we meet again you will find that my art has made some progress in the interim.
Ever remain my friend, as much as I am yours,
BEETHOVEN.
[Footnote 1: The "Herr" is his pupil, the Archduke Rudolph.]
66.
TO BETTINA BRENTANO.[1]
Vienna, August 11, 1810.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,--
Never was there a lovelier spring than this year; I say so, and feel it too, because it was then I first knew you. You have yourself seen that in society I am like a fish on the sand, which writhes and writhes, but cannot get away till some benevolent Galatea casts it back into the mighty ocean.
I was indeed fairly stranded, dearest friend, when surprised by you at a moment in which moroseness had entirely mastered me; but how quickly it vanished at your aspect! I was at once conscious that you came from another sphere than this absurd world, where, with the best inclinations, I cannot open my ears. I am a wretched creature, and yet I complain of others!! You will forgive this from the goodness of heart that beams in your eyes, and the good sense manifested by your ears; at least they understand how to flatter, by the mode in which they listen. My ears are, alas! a part.i.tion-wall, through which I can with difficulty hold any intercourse with my fellow-creatures. Otherwise, perhaps, I might have felt more a.s.sured with you; but I was only conscious of the full, intelligent glance from your eyes, which affected me so deeply that never can I forget it. My dear friend! dearest girl!--Art! who comprehends it? with whom can I discuss this mighty G.o.ddess? How precious to me were the few days when we talked together, or, I should rather say, corresponded! I have carefully preserved the little notes with your clever, charming, most charming answers; so I have to thank my defective hearing for the greater part of our fugitive intercourse being written down. Since you left this I have had some unhappy hours,--hours of the deepest gloom, when I could do nothing.
I wandered for three hours in the Schonbrunn Allee after you left us, but no _angel_ met me there to take possession of me as you did. Pray forgive, my dear friend, this deviation from the original key, but I must have such intervals as a relief to my heart. You have no doubt written to Goethe about me? I would gladly bury my head in a sack, so that I might neither see nor hear what goes on in the world, because I shall meet you there no more; but I shall get a letter from you? Hope sustains me, as it does half the world; through life she has been my close companion, or what would have become of me? I send you "Kennst Du das Land," written with my own hand, as a remembrance of the hour when I first knew you; I send you also another that I composed since I bade you farewell, my dearest, fairest sweetheart!
Herz, mein Herz, was soll das geben, Was bedranget dich so sehr; Welch ein neues fremdes Leben, Ich erkenne dich nicht mehr.
Now answer me, my dearest friend, and say what is to become of me since my heart has turned such a rebel. Write to your most faithful friend,
BEETHOVEN.
[Footnote 1: The celebrated letters to Bettina are given here exactly as published in her book, _Ilius Pamphilius und die Ambrosia_ (Berlin, Arnim, 1857) in two volumes. I never myself had any doubts of their being genuine (with the exception of perhaps some words in the middle of the third letter), nor can any one now distrust them, especially after the publication of _Beethoven"s Letters_. But for the sake of those for whom the weight of innate conviction is not sufficient proof, I may here mention that in December, 1864, Professor Moritz Carriere, in Munich, when conversing with me about _Beethoven"s Letters_, expressly a.s.sured me that these three letters were genuine, and that he had seen them in Berlin at Bettina v. Arnim"s in 1839, and read them most attentively and with the deepest interest. From their important contents, he urged their immediate publication; and when this shortly after ensued, no change whatever struck him as having been made in the original text; on the contrary, he still perfectly remembered that the much-disputed phraseology (and especially the incident with Goethe) was precisely the same as in the originals. This testimony seems to me the more weighty, as M. Carriere must not in such matters be looked on as a novice, but as a competent judge, who has carefully studied all that concerns our literary heroes, and who would not permit anything to be falsely imputed to Beethoven any more than to Goethe.
Beethoven"s biography is, however, the proper place to discuss more closely such things, especially his character and his conduct in this particular case. At present we only refer in general terms to the first chapter of _Beethoven"s Jugend_, which gives all the facts connected with these letters to Bettina and the following ones--a characteristic likeness of Beethoven thus impressed itself on the mind of the biographer, and was reproduced in a few bold outlines in his _Biography_. These letters could not, however, possibly be given _in extenso_ in a general introduction to a comprehensive biography.]
67.
TO BETTINA BRENTANO.
Vienna, Feb. 10, 1811.
DEAR AND BELOVED FRIEND,--
I have now received two letters from you, while those to Tonie show that you still remember me, and even too kindly. I carried your letter about with me the whole summer, and it often made me feel very happy; though I do not frequently write to you, and you never see me, still I write you letters by thousands in my thoughts. I can easily imagine what you feel at Berlin in witnessing all the noxious frivolity of the world"s rabble,[1]
even had you not written it to me yourself. Such prating about art, and yet no results!!! The best description of this is to be found in Schiller"s poem "Die Flusse," where the river Spree is supposed to speak. You are going to be married, my dear friend, or are already so, and I have had no chance of seeing you even once previously. May all the felicity that marriage ever bestowed on husband and wife attend you both! What can I say to you of myself? I can only exclaim with Johanna, "Compa.s.sionate my fate!"
If I am spared for some years to come, I will thank the Omniscient, the Omnipotent, for the boon, as I do for all other weal and woe. If you mention me when you write to Goethe, strive to find words expressive of my deep reverence and admiration. I am about to write to him myself with regard to "Egmont," for which I have written some music solely from my love for his poetry, which always delights me. Who can be sufficiently grateful to a great poet,--the most precious jewel of a nation! Now no more, my dear sweet friend! I only came home this morning at four o"clock from an orgy, where I laughed heartily, but to-day I feel as if I could weep as sadly; turbulent pleasures always violently recoil on my spirits. As for Clemens [Brentano, her brother], pray thank him for his complaisance; with regard to the Cantata, the subject is not important enough for us here--it is very different in Berlin; and as for my affection, the sister engrosses so large a share, that little remains for the brother. Will he be content with this?
Now farewell, my dear, dear friend; I imprint a sorrowful kiss on your forehead, thus impressing my thoughts on it as with a seal. Write soon, very soon, to your brother,
BEETHOVEN.
[Footnote 1: An expression which, as well as many others, he no doubt borrowed from Bettina, and introduced to please her.]