from Piero Weiss (ed.), Letters of Composers Through Six Centuries (Philadelphia: Chilton Books, 1967), 167-69.
For my brothers Carl and [Johan] Beethoven.
O ye men who think or declare that I am hostile stubborn or Misanthropic, how you wrong me you do not know the secret motive of what seems thus to you, from Childhood my Heart and Mind were inclined to the Gentle Feeling of goodwill, indeed I was ever disposed to accomplish great Feats, but only reflect that for the last six years an incurable condition has seized me, worsened by senseless physicians, cheated from year to year in the Hope of improvement, finally compelled to the prospect of a lasting Ailment (whose Curing may perhaps take years or indeed be impossible). Born with a fiery Lively Temperament susceptible even to Diversions of Society, I soon had to keep to myself, pass my life in solitude, if I attempted from time to time to rise above all this, o how harshly then was I repulsed by the doubly sad Experience of my bad Hearing, yet I could not say to People: speak louder, shout, for I am deaf, alas how could I then acknowledge the Weakness of a Faculty which ought to be more perfect in me than in others, a Faculty I once had to the highest degree of Perfection, such Perfection as only few of my Calling surely have or have had - o I cannot do it. Therefore forgive me if you see me withdrawing when I should gladly join you. My misfortune afflicts me doubly, since it causes me to be misunderstood. Diversion in Human Society, civilized Conversation, mutual Effusions cannot take place for me. All but alone, I enter society no more than is required by the most urgent Necessity. I must live like a Banished man; if I approach a company, a hot anxiety invades me, because I am afraid of being exposed to the Danger of letting my Condition be noticed - and thus has it been this half-year too, which I have spent in the country, my wise Physician having ordered me to spare my Hearing as much as possible. He nearly met my present Disposition, even though I have sometimes let myself be led astray by an Urge for Society. But what Mortification if someone stood beside me and heard a flute from afar and I heard nothing; or someone heard a Shepherd Singing, and I heard nothing. Such Happenings brought me close to Despair; I was not far from ending my own life - only Art, only art held me back. Ah, it seemed impossible to me that I should leave the world before I had produced all that I felt I might, and so I spared this wretched life - truly wretched; a body so susceptible that a somewhat rapid change can take me from the Best Condition to the worst. Patience - so now I must choose Her for my guide, I have done so - I hope that my decision to persevere may endure until it please the inexorable Fates to break the Thread; perhaps I will improve, perhaps not. I am resigned - to be forced already in my 28th year to become a Philosopher is not easy, and harder for an Artist than for anyone else. Deity, thou lookest down into my innermost being; thou knowest it, thou seest that charity and benevolence dwell with in, - o Men, when you read this some day, think then that you have wronged me, and let any unhappy man console himself by finding another one like himself, one who, despite Nature’s Impediments, yet did what was in his Power to do to be admitted to the Ranks of worthy Artists and Men. And so it is done - I hasten with joy towards my Death - should it come before I have had the Opportunity to disclose all my Artistic Capacities, then it shall still have come too soon despite my Hard Destiny, and I should indeed wish it came later - yet even then am I content. Does it not free me from an endless Suffering State? Come when you will, I’ll meet you bravely - farewell and do not wholly forget me in Death. I have deserved it of you, for in Life I thought of you often, in order to make you happy, so may you be -
Ludwig van Beethoven
Heiligenstadt
6th October
1802
Heiligenstadt 10th October 1802 and so I bid you farewell - and sadly too - yes the cherished Hope - which I brought here with me, that I might be cured at least up to a Point - it must abandon me completely now, as Autumn Leaves fall away, wither; so has - it too wilted for me, I go from here - as much as I came - even the High Courage - that often inspired me during the Lovely Days of Summer - has vanished - o Providence - grant me one day of pure Joy - the inner reverberation of true Joy has so long been a stranger to me - o when - o when, o Deity - may I feel it once more in the Temple of Nature and Mankind, - Never? - -no o it would be too hard.