Beethoven (Rolland)/To Carl Amenda
Letters
BEETHOVEN
AT THE AGE OF 44.
(From an Engraving by Blasius Hoefel after the
Drawing by Louis Letronne, 1814.)
Beethoven's Letters.[1]
I.
To Carl Amenda at Wirben in Courland.
(Vienna, June 1, 1800).
My dear, my good Amenda, my heartily beloved friend.
With deep emotion, with mixed pain and pleasure did I receive and read your last letter. To what can I compare your fidelity, your attachment to me. Oh! how pleasant it is that you have always remained so kind to me; yes, I also know that you, of all men, are the most trustworthy. You are no Viennese friend; no, you are one of those such as my native country produces. How often do I wish you were with me, your Beethoven is most unhappy, and at strife with nature and Creator. The latter I have often cursed for exposing His creatures to the smallest chance, so that frequently the richest buds are thereby crushed and destroyed. Only think that the noblest part of me, my sense of hearing has become very weak. Already, when you were with me I noticed traces of it, and I said nothing. Now it has become worse, and it remains to be seen whether it can ever be healed . . . . . I much fear that my hearing will not improve; maladies of that kind are the most difficult of all to cure. What a sad life I am now compelled to lead; I must avoid all that is near and dear to me, and then to be among such wretched egotistical beings such as . . . . . etc. I can say that among all, Lichnowski has best stood the test. Since last year he has settled on me 600 florins, which, together with the good sale of my works, enables me to live without anxiety. Everything I write I can sell immediately five times over, and also be well paid. I have composed a fair quantity, and as I hear you have ordered pianofortes from . . . I will send you many things in one of the packing cases so it will not cost you so very much. Now to my consolation, a man has come here with whom intercourse is a pleasure, and whose friendship is free from all selfishness. He is one of the friends of my youth. I have often spoken to him about you, and told him that since I left my native country, you are the one whom my heart has chosen. Even he does not like . . . . . the latter is and remains too weak for friendship. I consider him and . . . . . . mere instruments on which when it pleases me I play; but they can never become noble witnesses of my inner and outer activity, nor be in true sympathy with me; I value them according as they are useful to me. Oh! how happy should I now be if I had my perfect hearing, for I should then hasten to you. As it is, I must in all things be behind hand; my best years will slip away without bringing forth what, with my talent and my strength I ought to have accomplished. I must now have recourse to sad resignation. I have, it is true, resolved not to worry about all this but how is it possible? Yes, Amenda, if six months hence my malady is beyond cure, then I lay claim to your help. You must leave every thing and come to me. I will travel (my malady interferes least with my playing and composition, most only in conversation), and you must be my companion. I am convinced good fortune will not fail me. With whom need I be afraid of measuring my strength? Since you went away I have written music of all kinds except operas and sacred works.
Yes, do not refuse; help your friend to bear with his troubles, his infirmity. I have also greatly improved my pianoforte playing. I hope this journey may also turn to your advantage; afterwards you will always remain with me. I have duly received all your letters, and although I have only answered a few, you have been always in my mind, and my heart, as always, beats tenderly for you. Please keep as a great secret what I have told you about my hearing; trust no one, whoever it may be, with it. Do write frequently; your letters, however short they may be, console me, do me good. I expect soon to get another one from you, my dear friend. Don't lend out my Quartet any more, because I have made many changes in it. I have only just learnt how to write quartets properly, as you will see when you receive them. Now, my dear good friend, farewell! If, perchance, you believe that I can show you any kindness here, I need not of course, remind you to first address yourself to
Your faithful, truly loving,
L. v. Beethoven.
- ↑ For the Letter, I have been kindly allowed by Messrs. J. M. Dent & Con., to use Mr. J. S. Shedlock's splendid translation in his monumental, "Letters of Ludwig van Beethoven" (3 volumes, 1909), which contain no less than 7,220 documents.