od,
he made but little progress in composition, and was more ambitious to
become a brilliant performer. Hence by the periodicals of that day, he
is not allowed to possess the ability of composition; harshness of
modulation, melodies more singular than pleasing, and a constant
struggle to be original, are among the principal faults of which he was
accused. As to the latter charge it may be remarked, that it is the
besetting sin which has adhered to Beethoven through life; and who can
help wishing that with it, he had also possessed the power of spreading
the vice among his contemporaries, and of bequeathing it to his
successors. But if this indefatigable search after originality be a sin,
to what new and extraordinary effects, to what wonders, has it not given
birth? To whom so justly than to this author can these lines be
applied--

"Great wits may sometimes gloriously offend,
And rise to faults true critics dare not mend?"

Beethoven never defended himself against criticisms or attacks, he never
suffered them to have more than a superficial effect upon him. Not
indifferent to the opinions of the good, he took no notice of the
attacks of the malicious, and allowed them to go on unchecked, even when
they proceeded so far as to assign him a place, sometimes in one
madhouse, sometimes in another. "If it _amuses_ people to say or to
write such stuff concerning me, let them continue so to do as long as
they please."

(This may remind you of an anecdote of the Earl of Derby; being once
attacked in the House of Lords by the Duke of Argyle, the Earl in his
reply said, "A certain navvy, who happened to be married to a very
violent woman, a regular virago, was asked why he allowed his wife to
abuse him, or use such intemperate language. 'Poor creature,' said the
navvy, 'it amuses her, and does not hurt me.' So say I, the attack of
the noble duke may amuse him but cannot injure me.")

As in that classic period of musical activity, Beethoven was the sun
which all strove to approach, and rejoiced if they could but catch a
glance of his brilliant eyes, it was natural that he should converse
much with ladies, several of whom were always contending for his
affections at once, as it is well known, and he more than once found
himself like Hercules in a dilemma. Dr. Wegeler, in his life of
Beethoven says, "He was never without an attachment, and that mostly he
was very deeply smitten." This is quite true. How could any rationa