ps I may get better, perhaps not. I am prepared
for either. Constrained to become a philosopher in my twenty-eighth
year![3] This is no slight trial, and more severe on an artist than on any
one else. God looks into my heart, He searches it, and knows that love for
man and feelings of benevolence have their abode there! Oh! ye who may one
day read this, think that you have done me injustice, and let any one
similarly afflicted be consoled, by finding one like himself, who, in
defiance of all the obstacles of Nature, has done all in his power to be
included in the ranks of estimable artists and men. My brothers Carl and
Johann, as soon as I am no more, if Professor Schmidt [see Nos. 18 and 23]
be still alive, beg him in my name to describe my malady, and to add these
pages to the analysis of my disease, 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 small fortune (if so it may be called). Share it fairly,
agree together and assist each other. You know that anything you did to
give me pain has been long forgiven. I thank you, my brother Carl in
particular, for the attachment you have shown me of late. My wish is that
you may enjoy a happier life, and one more free from care, than mine has
been. Recommend _Virtue_ to your children; that alone, and not wealth, can
ensure happiness. I speak from experience. It was _Virtue_ alone which
sustained me in my misery; I have to thank her and Art for not having ended
my life by suicide. Farewell! Love each other. I gratefully thank all my
friends, especially Prince Lichnowsky and Professor Schmidt. I wish one of
you to keep Prince L----'s instruments; but I trust this will give rise to
no dissension between you. If you think it more beneficial, however, you
have only to dispose of them. How much I shall rejoice if I can serve you
even in the grave! So be it then! I joyfully hasten to meet Death. If he
comes before I have had the opportunity of developing all my artistic
powers, then, notwithstanding my cruel fate, he will come too early for me,
and I should wish for him at a more distant period; but even then I shall
be content, for his advent will release me from a state of endless
suffering. Come when he may, I shall meet him with courage. Farewell! Do
not quite forget me, even in death; I deserve this from you, because during
my life I so often thought of you, and wished to make you happy. Amen!

LUDWI