* * * * *
BERLIN, Feb. 27, 1833.
DEAR MRS. MOSCHELES,--Although I can send you but a few lines to-day, I
want to offer you my congratulations, and tell you that I enter heart
and soul into your joy at the happy event. How pleased I am to think I
shall soon see the little stranger, and that he will bear my name! Do
wait till I come, that I may accept your first invitation, and be
present in person at the christening. I shall certainly hurry as much as
I can, and arrive as soon as possible. I am glad, too, that the new
arrival is a boy. He must become a musician; and may all such things as
we wish to do and cannot attain be reserved for him! Or if not, it
matters little, for he will become a good man, and that is the main
point. To be sure, I see already how his two grown-up sisters, Misses
Emily and Serena, will tyrannize over him when he is about fourteen
years old. He will have to put up with a good deal,--his arms will be
voted too long, his coat too short, and his voice wretched. But
presently he will become a man and patronize them, doing them many a
good turn, making himself generally useful, and submitting to the
boredom of many an evening party as their chaperon. I dare say you have
somewhat (or should I say greatly) resented my epistolary shortcomings;
but do pardon me this once, and I promise to improve, particularly in
London, where I can be my own postman and improvise my questions and
answers; but I will reform, anyhow.
Kindest messages from my sisters and parents. We all rejoice at the
birth of the son.
I must now begin the last movement of my Symphony;[17] it gets into my
fingers, spoils my letters, and takes up my time. Excuse, therefore,
these hasty lines; how they are meant, you know.
Yours,