Beethoven was through and through a religious man, though not in the
confessional sense. Reared in the Catholic faith he early attained to an
independent opinion on religious things. It must be borne in mind that
his youth fell in the period of enlightenment and rationalism. When at
a later date he composed the grand Mass in honor of his esteemed pupil
Archduke Rudolph,--he hoped to obtain from him a chapelmastership when
the Archduke became Archbishop of Olmutz, but in vain,--he gave it forms
and dimensions which deviated from the ritual.
In all things liberty was the fundamental principle of Beethoven’s life.
His favorite book was Sturm’s “Observations Concerning God’s Works in
Nature” (Betrachtungen uber die Werke Gottes in der Natur), which he
recommended to the priests for wide distribution among the people. He
saw the hand of God in even the most insignificant natural phenomenon.
God was to him the Supreme Being whom he had jubilantly hymned in
the choral portion of the Ninth Symphony in the words of Schiller:
“Brothers, beyond you starry canopy there must dwell a loving Father!”
Beethoven’s relationship to God was that of a child toward his loving
father to whom he confides all his joys as well as sorrows.
It is said that once he narrowly escaped excommunication for having said
that Jesus was only a poor human being and a Jew. Haydn, ingenuously
pious, is reported to have called Beethoven an atheist.
He consented to the calling in of a priest on his death-bed.
Eye-witnesses testify that the customary function was performed most
impressively and edifyingly and that Beethoven expressed his thanks
to the officiating priest with heartiness. After he had left the room
Beethoven said to his friends: “Plaudite, amici, comoedia finita est,”
the phrase with which antique dramas were concluded. From this fact
the statement has been made that Beethoven wished to characterize the
sacrament of extreme unction as a comedy. This is contradicted, however,
by his conduct during its administration. It is more probable that he
wished to designate his life as a drama; in this sense, at any rate, the
words were accepted by his friends. Schindler says emphatically: “The
last days were in all respects remarkable, and he looked forward to
death with truly Socratic wisdom and peace of mind.”
[I append a description of the death scene as I found it in the
notebooks of A. W. Thayer which were placed in my hands for examination
after the death of Beethoven’s greatest biographer in 1897:
“June 5, 1860, I was in Graz and saw Huttenbrenner (Anselm) who gave me
the following particulars: ...In the winter of 1826-27 his friends wrote
him from Vienna, that if he wished to see Beethoven again alive he must
hurry thither from Graz. He hastened to Vienna, arriving a few
days before Beethoven’s death. Early in the afternoon of March 26,
Huttenbrenner went into the dying man’s room. He mentioned as persons
whom he saw there, Stephen v. Breuning and Gerhard, Schindler, Telscher
and Carl’s mother (this seems to be a mistake, i.e. if Mrs. v. Beethoven
is right). Beethoven had then long been senseless. Telscher began
drawing the dying face of Beethoven. This grated on Breuning’s feelings,
and he remonstrated with him, and he put up his papers and left (?).
“Then Breuning and Schindler left to go out to Wohring to select a grave.
(Just after the five--I got this from Breuning himself--when it grew
dark with the sudden storm Gerhard, who had been standing at the window,
ran home to his teacher.)
“Afterward Gerhard v. B. went home, and there remained in the room only
Huttenbrenner and Mrs. van Beethoven. The storm passed over, covering
the Glacis with snow and sleet. As it passed away a flash of lightning
lighted up everything. This was followed by an awful clap of thunder.
Huttenbrenner had been sitting on the side of the bed sustaining
Beethoven’s head--holding it up with his right arm His breathing was
already very much impeded, and he had been for hours dying. At this
startling, awful peal of thunder, the dying man suddenly raised his
head from Huttenbrenner’s arm, stretched out his own right arm
majestically--like a general giving orders to an army. This was but for
an instant; the arm sunk back; he fell back. Beethoven was dead.
“Another talk with Huttenbrenner. It seems that Beethoven was at his
last gasp, one eye already closed. At the stroke of lightning and the
thunder peal he raised his arm with a doubled-up fist; the expression of
his eyes and face was that of one defying death,--a look of defiance and
power of resistance.
“He must have had his arm under the pillow. I must ask him.
“I did ask him; he had his arm around B.’s neck.” H. E. K.]
311. “I am that which is. I am all that was, that is, and that shall be.
No mortal man has ever lifted the veil of me. He is solely of himself,
and to this Only One all things owe their existence.”
(Beethoven’s creed. He had found it in Champollion’s “The Paintings
of Egypt,” where it is set down as an inscription on a temple to the
goddess Neith. Beethoven had his copy framed and kept it constantly
before him on his writing desk. “The relic was a great treasure in his
eyes”--Schindler.)
312. “Wrapped in the shadows of eternal solitude, in the impenetrable
darkness of the thicket, impenetrable, immeasurable, unapproachable,
formlessly extended. Before spirit was breathed (into things) his
spirit was, and his only. As mortal eyes (to compare finite and infinite
things) look into a shining mirror.”
(Copied, evidently, from an unidentified work, by Beethoven; though
possibly original with him.)
313. “It was not the fortuitous meeting of the chordal atoms that made
the world; if order and beauty are reflected in the constitution of the
universe, then there is a God.”
(Diary, 1816.)