haracteristic of this master.

* * * * *

BEETHOVEN'S LETTERS[66]

TRANSLATED BY J.S. SHEDLOCK

NO. 8

TO DR. FRANZ WEGELER IN VIENNA

(Between 1794-1796)

My dearest, my best one!

What a horrid picture you have drawn to me of myself. I recognize it; I
do not deserve your friendship. You are so noble, so kindly disposed,
and now for the first time I do not dare to compare myself with you; I
have fallen far below you. Alas! for weeks I have given pain to my best,
my noblest friends. You believe I have ceased to be kind-hearted, but,
thank heaven, 'tis not so! It was not intentional, thought-out malice on
my part, which caused me to act thus; but my unpardonable
thoughtlessness, which prevented me from seeing the matter in the right
light. I am thoroughly ashamed for your sake, also for mine. I scarcely
venture to beg you to restore your friendship. Ah, Wegeler! _My only
consolation is that you knew me almost from my childhood_, and--oh! let
me say it myself--I was really always of good disposition, and in my
dealings always strove to be upright and honest; how, otherwise, could
you have loved me! Could I, then, in so short a time have suddenly
changed so terribly, so greatly to my disadvantage? Impossible that
these feelings for what is great and good should all of a sudden become
extinct! My Wegeler, dear and best one, venture once again to come to
the arms of your B. Trust to the good qualities which you formerly found
in him. I will vouch for it that the pure temple of holy friendship
which you will erect on them will forever stand firm; no chance event,
no storm will be able to shake its foundations--firm--eternal--our
friendship--forgiveness--forgetting--revival of dying, sinking
friendship. Oh, Wegeler! do not cast off this hand of reconciliation;
place your hand in mine--O God!--but no more! I myself come to you and
throw myself in your arms, and sue for the lost friend, and you will
give yourself to me full of contrition, who loves and ever will be
mindful of you.

BEETHOVEN.

I have just received your letter on my return home.

NO. 27

TO THE COMPOSER J.N. HUMMEL

(Vienna, circa 1799)

Do not come any more to me. You are a false fellow, and the hangman take
all such!

BEETHOVEN.

NO. 28

TO THE SAME

(The next day)

Good Friend Nazerl:

You are an honorable fellow, and I see you were right. So come this
afternoon to me. You will