m till I can procure some suitable
situation. My compositions are very profitable, and I may really say
that I have almost more commissions than it is possible for me to
execute. I can have six or seven publishers or more for every piece if I
choose: they no longer bargain with me--I demand, and they pay--so you
see this is a very good thing. For instance, I have a friend in
distress, and my purse does not admit of my assisting him at once, but I
have only to sit down and write, and in a short time he is relieved. I
am also become more economical than formerly....

To give you some idea of my extraordinary deafness, I must tell you that
in the theatre I am obliged to lean close up against the orchestra in
order to understand the actors, and when a little way off I hear none of
the high notes of instruments or singers. It is most astonishing that in
conversation some people never seem to observe this; as I am subject to
fits of absence, they attribute it to that cause. Often I can scarcely
hear a person if he speaks low; I can distinguish the tones but not the
words, and yet I feel it intolerable if any one shouts to me. Heaven
alone knows how it is to end! Vering declares that I shall certainly
improve, even if I be not entirely restored. How often have I cursed my
existence! Plutarch led me to resignation. I shall strive if possible to
set Fate at defiance, although there must be moments in my life when I
cannot fail to be the most unhappy of God's creatures. I entreat you to
say nothing of my affliction to any one, not even to Lorchen. I confide
the secret to you alone, and entreat you some day to correspond with
Vering on the subject. If I continue in the same state, I shall come to
you in the ensuing spring, when you must engage a house for me somewhere
in the country, amid beautiful scenery, and I shall then become a rustic
for a year, which may perhaps effect a change. Resignation!--what a
miserable refuge! and yet it is my sole remaining one. You will forgive
my thus appealing to your kindly sympathies at a time when your own
position is sad enough.

Farewell, my kind, faithful Wegeler! Rest assured of the love and
friendship of your

BEETHOVEN.

FROM THE LETTERS TO BETTINA BRENTANO

Never was there a lovelier spring than this year; I say so, and feel it
too, because it was then I first knew you. You have yourself seen that
in society I am like a fish on the sand, which writhes and writhes, but
cannot get