“My journey was terrible.  I did not arrive here till four o’clock yesterday morning, as no horses were to be had.  The drivers chose another route; but what a dreadful one it was!  At the last stage I was warned not to travel through the night, and to beware of a certain wood, but this only incited me to go forward, and I was wrong.  The carriage broke down, owing to the execrable roads, mere deep rough country lanes, and had it not been for the postilions I must have been left by the wayside.  Esterhazy, travelling the usual road, had the same fate with eight horses as I with four.  Still I felt a certain degree of pleasure, which I invariably do when I have happily surmounted any difficulty.  But I must now pass from the outer to the inner man.  We shall soon meet again; to-day I cannot impart to you all the reflections I have made, during the last few days, on my life; were our hearts closely united for ever, none of these would occur to me.

“My breast is overflowing with all I have to say to you.  Ah! there are moments when I find that speech is nothing at all.  Take courage!  Continue to be ever my true and only love, my all! as I am yours.  The rest the gods must ordain—­what must and shall become of us.

“Your faithful LUDWIG.”

“Monday Evening, July 6th.

“You grieve!  My dearest being!  I have just heard that the letters must be sent off very early.  Mondays and Thursdays are the only days when the post goes to K——­from here.

“You grieve!  Ah! where I am, there you are also with me; how earnestly shall I strive to pass my life with you, and what a life will it be!!!!  Now!!!! without you and persecuted by the kindness of people here and there, which I as little wish to deserve as they do deserve—­the servility of man towards his fellow man—­it pains me—­and when I regard myself as a part of the universe, what am I? what is he who is called the greatest?—­and yet herein is shown the godlike part of humanity!  I weep in thinking that you will receive no intelligence from me till probably Saturday.  However dearly you may love me, I love you more fondly still.  Never disguise yourself from me.  Good night!  As a patient at these baths, I must now go to rest.” [A few words are here effaced by Beethoven himself.] “Oh, God, so near! so far!  Is not our love a truly celestial mansion, but firm as the vault of heaven itself?”

“Good Morning, July 7th.

“Even in my bed, still my thoughts throng to you, my immortal Beloved!—­now and then full of joy, and yet again sad, waiting to see whether Fate will hear us.  I must live either wholly with you, or not at all.  Indeed, I have resolved to wander far from you till I can fly into your arms, and feel that they are my home, and send forth my soul in unison with yours into the realm of spirits.  Alas! it must be so!  You will take courage, for you know my fidelity.  Never can another possess my heart—­never, never!  Oh, God! why