Do not send any more such flimsy notes, for the housekeeper can see through them in the light.  I have just received this letter from Leipzig, but I don’t mean to send the Quartet yet; we can talk of this on Sunday.  Three years ago I only asked 40 ducats for a quartet; we must therefore refer to the exact words you have written.

Farewell!  He who, though he did not give you life, has certainly provided for it, and above all striven to perfect your mental culture, and been more than a father to you, earnestly implores you to pursue steadily the only true path to all that is good and right.  Farewell!

Bring back the letter with you on Sunday.

Your attached and kind

FATHER.

445.

TO HERR VON SCHLESINGER.

Vienna, September 26, 1825.

[Music:  Tenor clef, F major, 4/4 time.  Si non per Por-tus, per mu-ros, per mu-ros, per mu-ros.]

My worthy friend, I wish you the loveliest bride!  And I take this opportunity of asking you to present my compliments to Herr Marx, in Berlin, and beg him not to be too hard on me, and sometimes to allow me to slip out at the backdoor.

Yours,

BEETHOVEN.

446.

TO HIS NEPHEW.

Baden, October 4.

MY DEAR SON,—­

Like the sage Odysseus, I know the best course to take; if you come on Saturday, you need not fear the cold, for a portion of the old window-shutters is still here, with which we can protect ourselves.  I hope also to get rid of my cold and catarrh here; at the same time this place is a great risk in my rheumatic condition, for wind, or rather hurricanes, still prevail here.  As to Biedermann, you must inquire whether Schlesinger gave him a commission; for if this be not the case, we ought to write at once to Peters.  You could scarcely write to me to-day, but I hope to hear from you to-morrow, and to see you positively on Saturday.  I wish you never may have cause to feel ashamed of your want of love for me; if I alone suffer, what matters it?  I wish and hope that all the pretexts you made here to go into Vienna may prove true.

Rest assured that you may at all times expect every possible kindness from me, but can I hope for the same from you?  When you see me irritable, ascribe it solely to my great anxiety on your account, for you are exposed to many dangers.  I hope at all events to get a letter from you to-morrow; do not cause me uneasiness, but think of my sufferings.  I ought not, properly, to have any such apprehensions, but what sorrow have I not already experienced?!

As ever, your attached

FATHER.

Remember that I am all alone here, and subject to sudden illness. [On the outside:] N’oubliez pas de demander des quittances, et donnez-moi aussi vite que possible des nouvelles.

447.

TO HIS NEPHEW.

MY DEAR SON,—­