Part 10 (1/2)
This spot--this _consecrated town_--must always be an object of veneration to those who cherish the name of Beethoven, for here it was that he wrote his remarkable will, or promemoria, a doc.u.ment which excites our warmest sympathy, revealing, as it does, the depths of that great heart.
”TO MY BROTHERS, CARL AND ---- BEETHOVEN.[28]--O ye who consider or represent me as unfriendly, morose, and misanthropical, how unjust are you to me! you know not the secret cause of what appears thus to you.
”My heart and mind have been from childhood given up to the tender feeling of benevolence, and I have ever been disposed to accomplish something great. But only consider that for six years I have been afflicted by a wretched calamity, which was aggravated by unskilful physicians--deceived from year to year by the hope of amendment--now forced, at length, to the contemplation of a _lingering disease_ (the cure of which will, perhaps, last for years, if indeed it be not an impossibility).
”Born with a pa.s.sionate, lively temperament, keenly susceptible to the pleasures of society, I was obliged at an early age to isolate myself, and to pa.s.s my life in loneliness.
”When I at times endeavoured to surmount all this, oh, how rudely was I thrust back again by the experience--the doubly painful experience--of my defective hearing! and yet it was impossible for me to say to people, Speak louder, shout; for I am deaf! Alas! how could I proclaim the weakness of a sense which ought to have been with me in a higher degree than with others--a sense which I once possessed in the greatest perfection--and to an extent which few of my profession enjoy, or ever have enjoyed! Oh, this I cannot do! Forgive me, therefore, when you see me turn away where I would gladly mingle with you. My misfortune is doubly painful to me, inasmuch as it causes me to be misunderstood. For me there can be no relaxation in human society, no refined conversations, no mutual outpourings of thought.
Like an exile must I live. Whenever I come near strangers, I am seized with a feverish anxiety from my dread of being exposed to the risk of betraying my condition.
”Thus it has been with me during these last six months which I have spent in the country. The orders of my sensible physician, to spare my hearing as much as possible, were quite in accordance with my present disposition; although often, overcome by my longing for society, I have been tempted into it. But what humiliation, when any one by my side heard from afar a flute, and I heard _nothing_, or when any one heard _the shepherd singing_, and I again heard _nothing_!
”Such occurrences brought me nigh to despair; but little was wanting, and I should myself have put an end to my existence.
_Art_--art alone--held me back! Ah! it seemed impossible for me to quit the world before I had done all that I felt myself destined to accomplish. And so I prolonged this miserable life; a life so truly wretched that a sudden change is sufficient to throw me from the happiest condition into the worst.
”_Patience!_ it would seem that I must now choose her for my guide! I have done so. I trust that my resolve to persevere will remain firm, until it shall please the inexorable Fates to cut the thread of life.
Perhaps I may get better; perhaps not. I am prepared. Compelled to be a philosopher in my twenty-eighth year![29] This is not easy--for the artist harder than for any one else. O G.o.d! Thou lookest down upon my heart, Thou seest that love to man and beneficent feelings have their abode in it!
”O ye who may one day read this, reflect that you did me injustice, and let the unhappy be consoled by finding one like himself, who, in defiance of all natural obstacles, has done all that lay in his power to be received into the ranks of worthy artists and men.
”My brothers, Carl and----, as soon as I am dead, if Professor Schmidt be still alive, beg him in my name to describe my disease, and then add these pages to the history of my malady, that at least, so far as possible, the world may be reconciled to me after my death.
”I also hereby declare you both heirs of my little fortune (if so it may be called). Divide it honestly, bear with and help one another.
What you did against me I have, as you know, long since forgiven. I thank you in particular, brother Carl, for the attachment which you have shown me of late. My wish is, that your life may be happier, and more free from care, than mine has been. Recommend _Virtue_ to your children; it is she alone, and not money, that can confer happiness. I speak from experience; for it was Virtue who raised me when in distress. I have to thank her, in addition to my art, that I did not put an end to my life through suicide. Farewell, and love one another!
I thank all my friends, especially Prince Lichnowski and Professor Schmidt. I should like the instruments of Prince L. to be preserved by one of you; but let no dispute arise between you on this account. As soon as you perceive that it will be more to your advantage, you have only to sell them. How shall I rejoice, if even in the grave I can serve you!
”Thus has it happened:--with joy I hasten to meet Death. Should he come before I have had opportunity to develop all my artistic powers, he will have come too soon, notwithstanding my hard fate, and I shall wish that he had tarried a little longer; but even then I shall be content, for he will set me free from a state of endless suffering.
Come when thou wilt--I go courageously to meet thee!
”Farewell, and do not quite forget me even in death. I have deserved this of you, since in my life I often thought of you, and wished to make you happy.
”So be it!
”LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN.”
_Heiligenstadt, 6th October, 1802._”
”_Heiligenstadt, 10th October, 1802._
”Thus I bid farewell to thee, mournfully enough. Even the dearest hope that I brought hither with me, the hope of being to a certain degree restored, has utterly forsaken me. As the leaves of autumn fall and wither, so has my hope faded. Almost as I came do I depart; even the lofty courage which inspired me during the lovely days of summer has vanished. Oh, Providence! vouchsafe to me one more day of pure happiness! The responsive echo of pure joy has been so long a stranger to my heart. When, when, O G.o.d! shall I again feel it in the temple of nature and man? Never? Ah! that would be too hard!”
(On the outside.)
”For my brothers Carl and----, to be read and fulfilled after my death.”
Several writers have maintained that the consequences of Beethoven's deafness are plainly discernible in his compositions; that he lost all idea of harmonic relations, that his later works are mere incongruous, erratic fancies, devoid of form and melody, and, in short, compared to his former productions, what the second part of ”Faust” is to the first.