Ludwig Van Beethoven – A Letter To My Friend Wegeler – June 1800
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Before we get started with episode 27, a quick note that while I always endeavor to read famous speeches, I also picked important people in history and for this episode I picked Ludwig von Beethoven, not a guy who is known for giving speeches. Of course. However, as I discovered he's written a couple of 100 letters. So this is a letter from Ludwig Van Beethoven to his friend Wigler, written On June 29, 1800 in Vienna Austria. My dear and valued Wigler, How much I thank you for your remembrance of me, Little as I deserve it, or have sought to deserve it. And yet you are so kind that you allow nothing, not even my unpardonable neglect to discourage you always remaining the same, true, good and faithful friend that I can ever forget. You or yours once so dear and precious to me, do not for a moment believe there are times when I find myself longing to see you again and wishing that I could go to stay with you. My fatherland, that lovely region where I first saw the light is still as distinct and beauteous in my eyes as when I quitted you. In short, I shall esteem the time when I once more see you. And again, agreed Father Ryan, as one of the happiest periods of my life when this be, I cannot yet tell. But at all events, I may say that you shall not see me again till I have become eminent, not only as an artist, but better and more perfect as a man. And if the condition of our fatherland then be more prosperous, my art shall be entirely devoted to the benefit of the poor. Oh, blissful moment! How happy do I esteem myself that I can expedite it and bring it to pass? You desire to know something of my position? Well, it is by no means bad, however incredible it may appear, I must tell you that Lichnovsky has been, and still is my warmest friend. Slight dissensions occurred occasionally between us, and yet they only served to strengthen our friendship. He settled on me last year the sum of 600 Florence, for which I am to draw on him until I can procure sub suitable situation. My compositions are very profitable, and I'm a really say that I have almost more commissions than it is possible for me to execute. I can have six or seven publishers or more for every piece, if I choose. They no longer bargain with me, I demand, and they pay. So you see this is a very good thing. For instance, I have a friend in distress, and my purse does not admit of my assisting him at once, but I have only to sit down and write, and in a short time he is relieved. I am also become more economical than formerly. If I finally settled here, I don't doubt I shall be able to secure a particular day every year for a concert of which I have already given several. That malicious demon. However bad health has been a stumbling block in my path. My hearing during the last three years has become gradually worse. The chief cause of this infirmity proceeds from the state of my digestive organs, which, as you know, were formerly bad enough, but have literally become much worse, and being constantly afflicted with diarrhea, has brought an extreme weakness frank, Director of the General Hospital strove to restore the tone of my digestion by tonics and my hearing by oil of almonds. But, alas! These did me no good, whatever. My hearing became worse, and my digestion continued in its former plight. This went on until the autumn of last year, when I was often reduced to utter despair than some medical assistance recommended me cold baths, but a more judicious doctor, the tepid ones of the Danube, which did wonders for me. My digestion improved, but my hearing remained the same, or in fact, rather got worse. I did indeed pass a miserable winter. I suffered from the most dreadful spasms, and sang back into my former condition. Thus it went on until about a month ago, when I consulted varying an army surgeon, under the belief that my maladies required surgical advice. Besides, I have every confidence in him. He succeeded in almost entirely checking the violent diarrhea, and ordered me the tepid baths of the Danube, into which I pour some strengthening mixture he gave me no medicine except some digestive pills four days ago, and a lotion for my ears. I certainly do feel better and stronger, but my ears are buzzing and ringing perpetually. Day and night. I can with truth say that my life is very wretched. For nearly two years past. I have avoided all society because I find it impossible to say to people. I am deaf in any other profession. This might be more tolerable, but in mind such a condition is truly frightful. Besides what my enemies say to this, and they are not few in number. To give you some idea of my extraordinary deafness, I must tell you that in the theater I am obliged to lean close up against the orchestra in order to understand the actors, and when a little way off I hear none of the high notes of the instruments or singers. It is most astonishing that in conversation, some people never seem to observe this being subject to fits of absence, they attributed to that. Cause I often can scare lee here a person if speaking alot, I can distinguish the tones, but not the words, and yet I feel it intolerable. If anyone shouts to me, heaven alone knows how it is to end. Varying declares that I shall certainly improve even if I be not entirely restored. How often have I cursed my existence? Plutarch led me to resignation. I shall strive, if possible, to set fate at defiance, although there must be moments in my life when I cannot fail to be the most happy of God's creatures. I entreat you to say nothing of my affliction to anyone, not even to Larkin. See numbers four and five, I can find the secret to you alone and entreat you someday to correspond with bearing on the subject. If I continue in the same state, I shall come to you in the ensuing spring, when you must engage a house for me somewhere in the country amid beautiful scenery. And I shall then become a rustic for a year which may perhaps effect a change, resignation! What a miserable refuge! And yet it is my sole remaining one. You will forgive my thus appealing to your kindly sympathies at a time when your own position is enough. Stephan bruning is here, and we are together almost every day. It does me so much good to revive old feelings. He has really become a capital goodfellow, not devoid of talent, and his heart like that of us all, pretty much in the right place. See number 13. I have very charming rooms at present, joining the best I the ramparts, and particularly valuable to me, on account of my health at Barrett pass qualities. I do really think I shall be able to arrange that bruning shall come to me. You shall have your antic ius a picture, and plenty of my music. Besides, if indeed it will not cost you too much your love of art does honestly rejoice me. Only say how it is to be done. And I will send you all my works, which now amount to a considerable number, and our daily increasing. I beg you will let me have my grandfather's portrait as soon as possible by the post, in return for which I send you that of his grandson. Your loving and attached Beethoven. It has been brought out here by artery. A who, as well as many other publishers, has often urged this on me. I intend to write soon to Stefan christoph von Breuning, and plainly admonish him about his surly humor. I mean to sound in his ears our old friendship, and to insist on his promising me not to annoy you further in your sad circumstances. I will also write to the amiable Larkin. Never have I forgotten one of you, my kind friends, though you did not hear from me. But you know well, that writing never was my forte. Even my best friends, having received no letters for me for years. I live holy in my music, and scarcely is one work finished when another has begun. Indeed, I am now often at work on three or 4 things at the same time. Do write to me frequently, and I will strive to find time to write to you. Also give my remembrances to all, especially to the kind frau Huffington von Breuning, and say to her that I am still subject to an occasional wrapped us. As for K I am not at all surprised to the change in her fortune rolls like a ball and does not always stop before the best and mobilised as to res kurt musician and bond to whom pray cordially Remember me, I must say one word I will write to you more particularly about his son Ferdinand, although I believe that he would be more likely to succeed in paris than in Vienna, which is already overstocked, and where even those of the highest merit find it a hard matter to maintain themselves by next autumn or winter. I shall be able to see what can be done for him, because then all the world returns to town, farewell by kind, faithful Wigler, rest assured of the love and friendship of your faithful and truly attached. L. V. Beethoven.