FATHER.

[Footnote 1:  I have arranged the following notes to his nephew in their probable succession as to time.  Schindler has given some of these in his Biography, but quite at random, and disjointed, without any reliable chronological order.]

[Footnote 2:  Reisser was Vice-Director of the Polytechnic Institution, where the nephew had been placed for some time.  Reisser had also undertaken the office of his co-guardian.  Beethoven sometimes writes Reissig.]

412.

TO DR. BRAUNHOFER.

Baden, May 13, 1825.

MY ESTEEMED FRIEND,—­

Doctor. “How does our patient get on?”

Patient. “Still in a bad way, feeling weak and irritable, and I think that at last we must have recourse to stronger medicines, and yet not too violent; surely I might now drink white wine with water, for that deleterious beer is quite detestable.  My catarrhal condition is indicated by the following symptoms.  I spit a good deal of blood, though probably only from the windpipe.  I have constant bleeding from the nose, which has been often the case this winter.  There can be no doubt that my digestion is terribly weakened, and in fact my whole system, and, so far as I know my own constitution, my strength will never be recruited by its natural powers.”

Doctor. “I will prescribe for you, and soon, very soon, shall your health be restored.”

Patient. “How glad I should be to sit down at my writing-table, with some cheerful companions.  Reflect on this proposal.” Finis.

P.S.  I will call on you as soon as I come to town, only tell Carl at what hour I am likely to see you.  It would be a good plan to give Carl directions what I am to do. (I took the medicine only once, and have lost it.)

I am, with esteem and gratitude,

Your friend,

BEETHOVEN.

[Music:  Treble clef, C major, 2/2 time. 
Doctor sperrt das Thor dem Todt: 
Rote hilft auch aus der Roth. 
Doctor sperrt das Thor dem Todt: 
Rote hilft auch aus der Roth.]

Written on May 11th, 1825, in Baden, Helenenthal, second floor,
Anton’s-Bruecke, near Siechenfeld.

413.

TO HIS NEPHEW.

Baden, May 17.

MY DEAR SON,—­

The weather here is abominable, and the cold greater even than yesterday; so much so that I have scarcely the use of my fingers to write; this is the case, however, only in the mountains, and more especially in Baden.  I forgot the chocolate to-day, and am sorry to be obliged to trouble you about it, but all will go better soon.  I enclose you 2 florins, to which you must add 15 kreutzers; send it if possible with the post in the afternoon; otherwise I shall have none the day after to-morrow; the people of the house will assist you in this.  May God bless you!  I begin to write again very tolerably; still, in this most dreary, cold stormy weather, it is almost impossible to have any clear conceptions.  Now as ever,