Agreeable to your desire, we made an arrangemant, by which the forty volumes of Handel's works, which you consigned to us as a present to L. von Beethoven, were delivered to him free of any expense whatever,¹ and it will be highly gratifying to you to learn that your present gave poor Beethoven, miserably as he is confined to his sick-bed, the greatest joy, and made him forget his melancholy situation. A book from an acquaintance of his in London was delivered to him at the same time with your Handel;² he took it into his hand, and laid it aside without uttering a syllable. He then pointed with his finger to Handel's works, and said, with feeling and emphasis, 'Das ist das Wahre!' Beethoven is laid up with a dropsy in the abdomen, and though the operation of tapping has been performed,³ his physicians have pronounced him to be in extreme danger. Under these circumstances, you will find it excusable that he does not thank you in writing;⁴ but he requested me to do it for him, and I have acquitted myself, I hope to your satisfaction, of that commission.

To Mr. Stumpff.