My dear Beethoven

Nothing has ever given me more pain than your letter to Sir George Smart.¹ I confess that I deserve your censure, that I am greatly in fault, but must say also, that I think you have judged too hastily, and harshly, of my conduct. The letter I wrote you,² some time since, was written at a moment when, I was in such a state of mind and spirits, that I am sure had you seen me, or known my sufferings, you would have excused every unsatisfactory passage in it. Thank God! it is now all over! I have attained the object, I was then in search of; I am married to that same girl³ of whom you speak and who I assure you is quite worthy of the sufferings I have experienced. I was only married on the second of this month and was just on the point of writing to you, to informe you of the event, when Sir George called with your letter. I do not know how to begin an answer to it, I have never been called upon in my life to justify myself, because it is the first time that I ever stood accused of dishonor, and what makes it the more painful is, "that I should stand accused by the man who of all in the world, I most admire and esteem, and one also, whom I have never ceased to think of, and wish for his welfare, since I made his acqu [a] intance" [.] But as the appearence of my conduct has been so unfavorable in your eyes, I must tell you again, of the situation I was in, previous to my marriage. The family of my Wife objected to me only on account of my profession. I had all my future happiness at statue – I therefore did (for a time) not appear professionally until the question was quite decided, whether or not, it might be over-ruled. It now is so, and I remain in my profession and with no abatement of my love of Beethoven! during this period I could not myself do anything publicly, nor would I trust any other, to do that for you, which I was so anxious to do myself, and consequently, all your music, remained in my draw, unseen and unheared. I however did make a very considerable attempt with the Philharmonic to acquire for you, what I thought you fully entitled to. I offer'd all your Music to them, upon condition that they made you a very handsome present, this, they said they cou'd not afford, but proposed to see and hear, your music, and then offer a price for it;⁴ I objected, and replied, "that I should be asham'd that your music should be put up, by auction, and bid for! – that your name, and reputation were too dear to me, ["] and I quitted the meeting with a determination to give a Concert, and take all the trouble myself – rather than that your feelings should be wounded by the chance of their disapproving of your works. I was the more apprehensive of their disapproval, from the unfortunate circumstance of your overtures⁵ , not being well received – they said they had no more to hope for, from your other works – I was not a director last season but I am for the next, and then I shall have a voice which I shall take care to exert! I have offered your Sonatas⁶ to a printer, but they say they are too difficult and would not be saleable, and consequently make offers, such as I cannot accept, but when I shall have played them to a few professors, their reputation will naturally, be encreased by their merits, and I hope to have better offers. The Symp [h] ony you read of in the Mor'g Cronicle, I believe to be, the one in C Minor it certainly was not, the one in A – for it has not been played at a Concert.⁷ I shall insist upon it's being played at the next season, and most probably the first night. I am exceedingly glad, that you have chosen Sir George Smart, to make your complaints of me to, as he is a man of strict honor, and very much your friend, had it been to anybody else, your complaint might have been listened to, and I injured all the rest of my life. But I trust I am too respectable, to be thought unfavourably of, by those who know me. I am however, quite willing to give up every sheet I have of yours, if you again desire it. Sir George will write by the next post, and will confirm this. I am sorry you say, that I did not even acknowledge my obligation to you, because I talked of nothing else in Vienna, as every one there who knew me, can testify. I even offer'd my purse, which you generously, always declined: I must indeed be a Scoundrel, if I am capable of what you suspect me!

Pray my dear friend believe me to remain ever yours most sincerely